Date: Fri, 16 Nov 2001 04:58:26 -0800 (PST) From: "Michael Davidson, II" Subject: "Larry's Love" Chapter 03 "Larry's Love" Part 03 By "Michael Davidson, II" Ageismfree@yahoo.com DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of erotic and romantic fiction involving males of various ages. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this, then don't continue, or at least try not to be caught. COPYRIGHT NOTICE: This story is copyrighted November 2001 by the author, who retains all rights. You may distribute or copy this story however you like PROVIDED that this copyright notice remains intact and that you do NOT change the story in any way. I give it freely to all, please continue on that way. DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to everyone whose love is condemned by society, for whatever reason. There are closets within closets, and even the gay community condemns what it does not understand. NOTE: I write this series as a tribute to the only actual Michael Davidson. A British journalist and author who died in the 1960's, he blazed the trail for men who love males from other generations than their own. His book, "Some Boys" and his amazing autobiography called, "The World, the Flesh, and Myself" are must reads for anybody interested in this topic. His legacy of self-awareness and proud honesty should never be forgotten. ANOTHER NOTE: Thanks very much to all those who didn't give up on me or forget the story after more than a year! Real life tripped me up, and made me sideline my writing for a while. I hope to be back now without the long gaps between chapters. Constructive criticism, comments, suggestions, and questions are all gladly---no---EAGERLY accepted! I answer all emails. I might even answer flames, if they're interesting enough. Please send to me at ageismfree@yahoo.com I also write other stories using another pen name. Ask me and I might tell you who else I am! But here's a hint. You can also write to me at alienist_hk@yahoo.com I answer all my mail from either address. Surprise! "Karl Gardner. You have been brought before this Court for grievous sins, darker than death. How do you plead?" I was in a cavernous chamber; its details were indistinct and murky. The air was musty and dank. I don't know how I got here. I answered, "Where am I? Who are you? What have I done?" The Voice boomed forth, "The prisoner will keep silent except for answering questions from the Court. You know the darkness of your sins. How do you plead?" I searched my memories. I could find nothing in them that warranted these ominous proceedings. And so I answered, "Not guilty." The Voice seemed to call forth lightning and thunder. "HOW DARE YOU! All men stand guilty before this Court!" "Then Sir, why do you bother to ask me what I plead? This is no true Court, not if judgement has already been rendered..." I was amazed at my own words. And I felt so calm, so sure of myself. How could this be? "There is but One Judge. You stand condemned by your own words. You do not even know the nature of your crimes. Pitiful creature, will you submit of your own free will to the Judgement of this Court? It is the only path to avoid damnation, complete and eternal!" I spoke quietly but with great assurance. "No. No, I will not. My destiny has always been in my own hands. I am the only one who may truly judge my own actions. You cannot judge me. I do NOT submit myself to your will. I never shall." I stood proudly in the dim light. "THEN YOUR DOOM IS CERTAIN AND YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE DIRE. SO BE IT." The thunderous booming of that Voice out of the darkness seemed to increase in intensity and gather itself. I could feel some deadly force being hurled at me. I felt no fear, only a terrible sadness that my life's mission would not be fulfilled. Just as the hammerblows of deadly spite from that hateful Voice were about to fall upon me, I suddenly noticed another voice whispering in my ear. I felt a feather-light touch on my cheek, as a still small voice murmured, "Fear not. Your love has saved you and will set you free. Trust your love. I will protect you. You will never be forsaken. I will be with you forever and a day. Do you love me?" My heart leapt in my breast, and my answer was swift and sure. "Yes. Yes, I love you. I have always loved you. No harm may befall us as long as we are together and our love is strong." Suddenly, in the blink of my mind's eye, I was on a mountaintop, the clouds below me obscuring everything beneath. The air was crystal clear. Everything my eye beheld seemed pristine and perfect. And then I realized I was not alone. Larry was by my side, holding my hand. He smiled at me and said, "Isn't it beautiful here?" My consciousness spun away from me, and I sank into oblivion. +++++++++++++++++ I woke up at my usual time of the morning, about 5:30, like I told Karl I always did. But I was in Karl's bed. Naked. With a hard on like I couldn't believe! Well, not really. I mean, I wake up stiff as a board pretty much every morning. Same as always the past couple of years. But I'm trying to make this sound like a hot X-rated story or something. Pretty sexy, huh? Not that anybody will ever see it. I hope. It all began to come back to me, like a fog was lifting from my muzzy mind. My brain is always like this in the morning. I blinked my eyes open and tried to see where everything and everybody was. It was still pretty dark, with just a bit of light beginning to come in through the bay windows across the room. Jeez, he's got a good view of our house. And my room over there faces this room! Cool! I want to use those binoculars, too...Hey! Is that what Karl was wanting them for? To look into my windows from here? I'll have to be sure to give him a Really Good Show, that's for damn sure...Yup, Ed Sullivan and me. Really Good Show, get it? Then I saw the little pile of my clothes on the floor next to the windows. Yeah, I had really done that. Stripped off right in front of the Rev. Then jumped into bed with him. I wonder if he saw everything...Nah, it was pretty dark. I hope not, anyhow. There's sooo little down there to see, down in my dick department. At least compared to a full-grown man, I mean. He's hung like a horse. (I always wanted to say that, even if it's not strictly true...) And he let me feel it, too! God! And now I know he's hairy, too. I really like that a lot, even though I'm sure I'll never be that way myself, with my stupid blond goldilocks. Bummer! I hope that's ok with him. I hope that something else is ok with him, too. I hope it doesn't spook him like it did yesterday. Feeling him up, I mean. Cuz I felt him up again after he went to sleep. I know I wasn't supposed to, but I just had to, ya know? Now I have to decide if I want Karl to read this. We'll see. I don't want to keep any secrets from him, but I might need ta let off a little steam someplace. And writing like this might be all the space I have. I mean, I can't talk to anybody else about this, can I? Nope. Writing it down at all could get us both into soo much trouble. Shit. Where will I hide this thing? My fort, maybe? Nope, they could find it in my fort too easily if they really wanted to. Whoever "they" might be. I'll have ta think about this some more. I'm not used to all this thinking about everything. Fuckin' Karl's got me doing it now, too. Meanwhile, where was I? Oh, right. He's here, too! DUH! He's right here in the bed next to me, snoring. Good snorer, too. Must have waked me up! I never slept with anybody before. I love it that he was naked last night. I lightly brushed my hand between our two bodies, down his front. He was facing toward me; his rough-stubbled cheek tucked right into my shoulder, so I had to scrunch away from him a little bit. Yup... His hard-on is pushing into me. Never saw another one up this close before. Sure as shit never felt one other than my own. God, am I ever gay or what? Not that I ever really thought I might not be. Ohhh...another wicked thought right then...I opened my legs a little bit, and pushed his hard-on down between my thighs with my fingertips, so it nestled way up underneath my balls. Pretty cool, huh? I never thought about the specifics of sexy stuff before. Hell, I never thought anything about myself like this before. But now I can begin to see me from Karl's point of view. The mirror of love. Wasn't that in some book I read? Never understood what that meant. Anyhow, I like it that he's sexy, and that he thinks I'm sexy, too. I squeezed tight, and his dick throbbed hard in response. There was a little sweat down there from where I was sleeping so close to him, so it was nice and slippery. Another thing I never thought about before. The importance of "slippery". I must be crazy, giggling out loud to myself like this. Then I tried tightening my legs and moved a little bit backwards and forwards. We moved together, little thrusting shivers connecting us. Karl moaned in his sleep, mumbling something about not being guilty. He hugged me even tighter than before. Well, I don't know what he was dreaming about, but I now officially enjoy hugging more than anything else in the whole wide world. He better never feel guilty about us loving each other. I sure as shit never will! I could stay like this forever, all pretzeled together, our arms and legs and all our other parts rubbing together, safe and warm and quiet. I started to drift off to sleep again. NO, I can't just lie here like this with Karl! Paper delivery! Plus parent damage control too, since I snuck out late last night. Shit, I can't believe I'm grounded again already! But I couldn't tell them why I was so late last night, and why I hadn't called them to say where I was. So I had to use my usual excuse of, "I didn't know what time it was. I was at my fort..." Then I got slapped up side the head by my Dad, like always. And Mom was drunk, like always. And my brother Gary smirking at my misfortune, like always. And me trying to become invisible again, so they'd leave me alone. Just another evening at the Russ family homestead. Just like always... But it wasn't just like always any more, for sure! My new secrets. My new thoughts and feelings and dreams and hopes. My God! Karl loves me. I just know he does. I never talked about anything like this before, and neither has he! He's a grown-up with his own life and a job and a house and all, and he wants to talk to me. He likes to be with me. He likes what I like. He likes me. I love him. There. I said it inside my own head. And now I've written it down. It must be true then. My dick throbbed against his stomach. No, not just my dick. It's like every part of me throbbing against all of him. All of our skin touching like this, it's awesome. Shit, I never knew I had nerves that can make me tingle all over like this. It's like I'm all electrified or something. Whoa! Why wouldn't I love him? He's the best thing that ever happened to me so far in my life. He's the only person who ever completely SAW me. And I don't just mean naked, either. What I mean is, I'm not invisible to him. So what if he's a guy and not a girl? I never liked girls that way! So what if he's older than I am? I've always thought older guys are the sexiest. I don't mean REALLY old geezers, but older than me, for sure. College men, like that. Get it? I'm always watching TV and ads and movies for good-looking guys like Karl. He can't understand why I'd be turned on by him. Well, who wouldn't be? Aren't there loads of people turned on by older guys? I've been this way as long as I can remember. Why is that so hard to understand? I can only thank my lucky stars that he's turned on by somebody like me. He said that younger guys have always turned him on. I'm glad he is, because somebody who looks like me would NEVER turn me on. I like 'em bigger than me. Older than me. I can't get turned on by some kid! Yuck. What can a kid do for ya? Now, a man...A man can do all sorts of things for me. Makes me feel safe. There's no way some kid my own age could ever take care of me like Karl's gonna. I don't mean with money, I mean feelings. If I can convince him, that is. So that's why. That's why I love him, I mean. Plus, of course, I love it that he's sooo sexy I can hardly stand it! I love being naked in bed with him. I want to do everything with him. I want him to do everything to me. Everything! I'm not worried about it at all. I know what I want already. I don't have to think about it much, do I? He'll do enough worrying for the both of us, I'm sure. That's another good reason to love a man and not a boy. They know stuff about life. They do all the worrying for ya, right? It's his job. Makes me sound like Peter Pan singing about how he don't wanna grow up, but I'm trying to be totally honest, here, ok? But he said he isn't sure about all this. He might say no. He might decide not to love me, maybe not let me love him. Shit, shit, shit. I hugged him tighter to me in the bed, and tangled my legs around him again at that thought. I gotta convince him never to stop this. I gotta. I don't know what I'll do if he says no to me. He can't say no! It's impossible to think about trying to go back to the way everything was yesterday. Before I met him. Before I knew what it was like to love somebody this way. I'm just a kid. How can I get him to be what I want him to be? He says we have to be equal. He gave me keys to the house and my own room! Nobody ever did anything like that for me before. Taking me seriously and trusting me and all. But he doesn't really understand me yet! He doesn't know that I REALLY don't want my own room. I want to be here with him in his room. Always. Every night. From now on. Besides, what would people think if they saw that I was putting some of my stuff here in "a room of my own" in the Parsonage? I want this to be our room. Not him in his room, and me in mine. I don't wanna be equal to him. I want him to be mine. I want to belong to him. He can be more equal than me; I don't give a shit. Everybody is more equal than I am anyhow, always has been. Just so he doesn't say for me to leave. Doesn't he get it? I NEED him! Even if I have my own room and my own keys, it's still HIS house. And maybe not even his. It's really Church property. He's not even renting it like somebody else would if it was a real landlord or something. Christ, I'll bet he hasn't even thought of that. And I won't be the one to tell him, either. He already worries too much as it is. I started to drift off again, just feeling the strength of his hardness between my legs as I flexed my thigh muscles again and again, squeezing him in and out down there. And listening to the steady beating of his heart. So close. We're so close together. Connected, like. After only one night. All this feeling without actual sex? Huh. But I do know one thing. I have never felt this safe, this happy. Never even one time before in my puny little life. I wanna melt right into him and never be apart from him again. I want the world to stop right here, right now. Even without sex. I don't care. Well, not too much, anyhow. Oh, fuck. The paper route! God damn it! I gotta go deliver. It'll take more than an hour! Almost two hours away from Karl! Two hours away from this body and the sound of his heart right up next to me, and I gotta put clothes on. I hate wearing clothes even more now than I did before. Just like when I go naked in my fort all the time. Well, except in the winter, of course. And this doesn't feel pervy, either. It feels natural and kind of tingly all over. What if he goes all weird again like he did last night? What if I get weird too? Huh! More weird than this, right now? Fat chance! Hmmm, fat like him down there between my legs...I never want to let that go from down there, and I gotta go do something so superficial as delivering the papers... Well, ok. Past time to get up. Gotta piss like a racehorse anyhow. (Always wanted to say that, too...) Plus I have ta go get my bike, and to do that, I gotta make the approach to my house from the woods. Shit, it's like a half-mile hike from here to that house practically next door, since I have to be all secret like. Kind of cool, though. I never had this big a secret to keep before. Karl will hate it, but it's gonna be fun, sort of. Makes me feel like a good spy working inside an evil empire. Maybe Ray Bradbury or Isaac Asimov will write something about us. Some sort of gay Second Foundation agent working against the tyranny of The Mule. Cool! As I was thinking about Super Spy stuff, I was getting dressed. All sexy, like a strip show backward. And then I splashed some water on my face in his...our...bathroom. Cool! Ours! I smiled at myself in the bathroom mirror, and flashed my eyebrows up and down like Groucho. Only I betcha Karl never thought Groucho was sexy, like he does me. My grin in the mirror developed an evil smirk. But still cute, I hope. I wanna stay cute for Karl. Get me, staring at myself like this. Back in the bedroom, I covered Karl up with the sheet. Well, ok, I did look some more, and copped one more feel. Ok, ok...a couple more. A few. I really really had to, see? He just grunted and smacked his dry lips in whatever dream he was having. It better have been about me! Out the back door, down through his barn and out into the back field, into the woods. Good, not too many windows face the field from this angle. The morning mists were thick on the ground, and my Keds got all wet immediately. I kind of like the early morning; I get it mostly to myself. Which in this town is about all the privacy a body ever gets. Walked past my fort. Nodded good morning to it like the old friend it is. Checked the padlock, even though nobody's ever bothered to try and get in. Got to my own back door, and opened it as quietly as it ever would. Good, nobody up yet. Sneak up the stairs, just like always, and make a little deliberate noise inside my room. Just like I've never been gone. My father cracks open their bedroom door and barks at me to get a move on. YESSS! The Master Spy, successful again in the face of parental fascism! I grumble back at him through my door, pretending to be sleepy and resentful. Shit, they are sooo dumb. Thank God. Cocky little fucker, ain't I? Down the stairs again, not sneaky this time, and banging the back door accidentally on purpose. Rattling my old bike as I pump down the road to the pick-up point for the papers. Yup, they're here. Just like always, bundled up next to the General Store. I wondered for the five hundredth time why nobody ever just comes down here and grabs their own copies without paying for them. Yeah, yeah. I know, small town honor system. Boring, huh? Even when it works in my favor, it's more boring and predictable than whale shit. Nothing exciting about my life at all. Well, that just changed, didn't it? Yup. Much more than usual to think about as I go through the old routine. Bundle and toss. Grab another from the old canvas bag. Bundle it up so it doesn't spread out all over the lawn, and hike it overhand sort of like a football as far toward the front door as possible. Over and over again. Sometimes I pretend it's me being a Marine lobbing grenades at the gooks. Not that I have any reason to not like gooks. After all, they were tough fuckers, weren't they? They sure beat the shit out of our guys in Viet Nam. Glad that war's all but over with, wouldn't want to get drafted like my cousin Mark was. Bundle and toss. Bundle and toss. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that I am fantastic at riding with no hands on the handlebars? They tell me it's bad to toot my own horn like that, but it's MY journal, right? Fuckin' A! I saved the last paper for Karl, and made his house...our house sounds too strange...the last one instead of the first one on the route. I decided to toss it like usual, even though I wanted to just bring it to him in bed. And snuggle some more. That's another thing I never really thought about. Snuggling. I would have thought that would be boring, baby stuff or something. But it's not! Snuggling is awesome. But right at the moment I do have to be serious about my covert operations here. I mean, anybody at all sees my bike in front of his house already at this time of day will be sure to ask questions. Maybe I need to convince everybody that I'm fixing to get religion. That might work, I suppose. Who could argue with that? Larry's about to get SAVED and find Jesus! Good idea, Super Sleuth! If I can keep a straight face about it. Ewww. Straight. Ugh. Back home. My Pop is up. Too bad he doesn't get wicked hangovers like Mom and leave me alone. Gary's asleep, though, the shiftless slug. But better sleeping than slugging the snot out of me, I always say. Thank God. The usual morning inquiries from my dear old Dad (NOT...) about what I'm going to do today to make the air I breathe worth something to him. 'Fuck you AND the truck you came in on...' I thought. And then out loud, I ever so politely tell him that I have some work to do for the new minister. No visible reaction, other than a non-committal grunt. Which is as positive and cheerful as he ever gets. Good. He didn't say no, at least. After my usual cereal and toast and scarfing down some stale canned juice (hardly country fresh, for damned sure), I can go back to Karl's. Openly, right up the driveway, quick as you please. Just like I haven't been here since yesterday lunch. Cool. I can do this every day. This is so do-able! The paper's still here, he must be continuing to saw lumber upstairs. Can I just go in? Sure. Quick knock on the door, for public consumption. Then just go on in like you were invited but nobody else heard it. I put the paper on the table and started his coffee going. I know how to do that much in the kitchen. Smoothed the wrinkles out of the bundled paper and set the table. Two places just like yesterday lunch. Our usual places. Wonder what Karl usually eats for breakfast, anyhow? Loads more to find out about him, for sure. Do I mind having two breakfasts today? Does a bear shit in the woods? Now I get to go upstairs and wake him up. +++++++++++++ I was alone in the bed. Where's Larry? Was I just dreaming sleeping next to him last night? No, not a dream. My mind tried to come to grips with the fact that I had just spent my first night sleeping with somebody special and important. I had slept in the arms of a naked youth that said he loved me. Sure sounded like a fantasy out of some cheap romance novel. Is there a gay Barbara Cartland, I wondered? But my mind then recalled my fear and anxiety when he didn't come back like he said he was going to...that was no dream. And that scared shitless feeling was just as shocking and unfamiliar to my heart as the feelings of love and sexuality had been. I stretched and groaned, cracking and popping my joints in that delicious early morning manner. My erection throbbed. Just like when I was a teenager. I felt so good. Whatever it was I was dreaming about must have been good for me. Either that or this fresh country air. Was that coffee I could smell from downstairs? Almost good enough to make me want to open my eyes. "Hey Rev! Wake up! Daylight's burning!" "Is it? What time is it?" I peeked. Larry was grinning next to the bed, leaning over me with his hands behind his back. Dimple alert! I started to reach up for him with both my arms. "8:30 already, you slugabed!" And with that and a giggle, he started rubbing an honest to God ice cube everywhere he could reach. I shrieked like a banshee and grabbed him, and it was an immediate free for all. And me, not an early morning person. Sheesh. Isn't love a many splendored thing? Yeah, right. The only thing I could do under the circumstances was use superior force. So I grabbed him and pulled myself completely on top of him. He didn't even try for an appearance of attempting escape. On the contrary, he looked pleased as punch with himself lying there underneath me. His shorts-clad legs wrapped around my lower torso just like they had always belonged there. And my erection throbbed again. So hard that he could feel it too. He grinned like a cat, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me down even more on top of him. He didn't even seem to mind having to struggle a bit for breath, what with most of my weight on him. So I leaned down to kiss him. "Oh, gross. Morning breath or what? Jeez, Rev..." But he giggled and held onto me. "No kiss until I brush my teeth? Ok...bye!" And I started to heave myself up and off him with a fake pout. And he fell for it. "Ya aren't leaving me here all alone, are ya? Come back here and snuggle, you...!" "Nope. I wouldn't want you to suffer from my Dragon Breath, would I? Bye!" "Noooo..." Good. I'd made him whine. He deserves it after that ice cube. Eeesh, and then I got my foot all wet in the puddle the ice had left on the floor. Like a puppy had piddled or something. I looked down at him, trying to take in the treasure of immeasurable worth that had taken up residence in my bed. After all, I was pretty sure that he'd spent some time checking me out while I was sleeping. "Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are ya just glad to see me?" I asked. Larry flushed, but looked even more pleased with himself. Wriggling his butt, he said, "These gym shorts don't got no pockets, Rev. It's all me! Wanna see?" Did I ever. And that's when I remembered that I was completely naked myself. Talk about your full body blush. I must have looked as shocked as I felt, because a delightful giggle came out of the boy in my bed. "Nope, you ain't got nothin' on, Rev...I like it that way, too! Don't go covering it all up on my account." There was nothing for it but to beat as dignified a retreat as I could, toward my bureau and fresh undies and shorts. I struggled to get into them, and made a mess of it. Bouncing around on one foot, the other big toe caught in the elastic. The picture of undignified. After all, I had no experience being observed so closely as I dressed, did I? Kind of flustered me. "Nice buns there, Rev! Can we have breakfast up here and watch the morning show together?" That was it! The final straw! I had my shorts on, and he didn't see my attack coming. Before he could even squeal, I had him over my knee and gave his perfect bubble butt a single resounding thwack. He collapsed under my arms. I suddenly wondered if he was upset, but he'd just gone quiet. He started humming down low in his throat, sort of purring. His voice was a little muffled, as he was facedown in the mussed covers. "That didn't hurt at all! But go ahead... Kiss it and make it feel better, anyhow." And he flexed his cheeks at me. Oye vey, the pain! I couldn't help it. I sighed, and then just sat there with the essence of BOY draped all over my lap. As I gently caressed the smooth skin on his back and his buns, he started purring again. I could feel the bump of his crotch growing against the friction between us, too. And that's when the crunch of the gravel in the drive announced a car pulling up outside. You never saw two bodies move so fast, I swear. I had a shirt on and was down-stairs almost as quickly as Larry was. We managed to be sitting at the kitchen table appearing to be casually pouring coffee as a foghorn voice shouted, "Ahoy, the house! Everybody decent?" Larry muttered, "Shit, it's Miss Hyde again." I managed not to sound spooked or winded as I said, "Sure thing, come on in." And she sailed right in. She wasn't tall, but she was wide. And loud. I managed to hide my wince as she threw her shoulder bag on the porch chair outside, banged the door open and plonked herself down at the table with a big grin. "Hi, boys. Beautiful morning out there!" God, was she always this energetic? We managed a weak reply in unison. "Morning, Miss Hyde..." We must have sounded like one of her classes at school. "Larry Russ, you again? Have you been home at all since I saw the two of you together as thick as thieves yesterday down to the Food Town?" Larry tried not to look alarmed, as I gulped and replied, "Of course he has, Miss Hyde. He just got here and we were planning the day. Right, Larry?" "Ummm, right, Rev..." Helen Hyde's brows shot upwards at Larry's nickname for me, but she smiled. "So what DO you have planned for the day, boys?" Larry got up and found her a fresh mug, and poured her a cup of coffee. Her voice seemed not to boom quite so much when she was seated at a table inside like this. Thank God. "Umm, I was just asking Larry to, umm, show me around town and begin to give me the lay-out of these country roads and so on..." Larry grinned. He had trusted me to think of something. He wouldn't have worried even a little bit that I might flub my lines. He took it for granted that I'd be able to think quickly on my feet. Little did he know just how spooked I was at this innocent interruption of our not-so-innocent morning activities. "Good idea. There are more than 300 miles of roads in this little parish, aren't there, Larry?" "Yeah, I guess so. I never thought about it before, Miss Hyde." "Well, before you go, let me have a few minutes of the Pastor's time in the study, alright?" And with that, Larry started cleaning up the coffee things like he'd been doing it for ages. Miss Hyde looked surprised again, but said, "Good boy." And we went into the study. I showed her my outline of Sunday's bulletin so far, and she brought me up-to-date on how they'd always done things before. Asked me what changes I wanted to make in the regular line up. I told her that I didn't want to change anything until I had gotten a feel for what was already there. She smiled her appreciation. We chatted another 10 minutes or so, and I started to like her. She wasn't just an old foghorn. She had a heart as big as her wide body, I was sure. She warned me about a few of the worst cases in the choir, and I simply said that I was sure she'd keep things together while I learned the ropes. She didn't seem to mind my making her the unofficial assistant ringmaster of the Sunday morning ritual. One thing I had learned in my student pastorates was never to piss off the regulars. As she swept out the door, she turned and said, "It does my heart good to see you two boys together like this already! Larry Russ, you spend far too much time alone. Pastor Karl, you teach him the value of close friendships, you hear?" "I'll try, Helen. He's been really great so far, I wouldn't know what to do without him." I was surprised to hear myself come so close to the truth with her, but she seemed perceptive and good-natured. Larry just grinned, a tad embarrassed, but pleased as well. When Helen Hyde had left, the house seemed very quiet all of a sudden. Larry came over to me and hugged me around the waist, nestling his head in my chest. He seemed to be listening to my heartbeat for a lovely moment or two. His muffled voice then asked, "Wanna go fool around?" And he giggled. I forced his head up gently, and growled, "Is that the only thing you think about?" "Yup. When I'm around you..." "Well, it's not a good idea. I imagine lots of people will be dropping by to see me and check me out. And I really do need to have a guide around all the roads here. I wasn't kidding about that." "Tour guide again? How about we do that later, Rev?" And he reached up and tried to kiss me. Much as I loved the idea of that, it also made me nervous enough to wriggle out of his grip. I noticed that I wasn't as prone to give in to his advances when I was a bit more awake and aware. Good thing, too, I thought to myself. "Down cowboy! Let's talk!" And I led him into the living room, plopping us down in the sofa again. He snuggled close. I looked down at him, as he batted his violet eyes up at me. Puppies should have this expression, I swear. "Ok, Rev. Shoot! I'm all yours." And he started playing with the hairs on my arm. Gave me goose bumps. "Ya know, tiger, we could easily just go upstairs and get naked again and have sex." I looked down at him to gauge his reaction. His eyes flashed like blue neon. He started to leap off the couch, trying to drag me along with him. But I just sat there, smiling at him. He groaned theatrically and collapsed next to me once again. I continued, "But that would be just sex." "Whaddaya mean 'just sex'? That'd be great!" He squirmed inside his own skin, he was that excited. "Larry, I think it would be amazing, too. I've never really thought about how terrific sex was going to be. It was always pretty hazy and abstract to me before meeting you." "Huh?" That's my Larry, so quick with the snappy comebacks. "We could have sex right now. Or we could wait." "Wait? Why wait? Are you thinking about us getting in trouble again?" "Sure, I'm thinking about that. You should be, too. But it's more than that. I think I'd still want to wait even if we wouldn't get into trouble. It's about love, Larry." "But I love you already!" he protested. "I know. I think I'm in love with you, too. That's why we should wait." "Karl, I still don't get this." "You ever hear of dating before sex, Larry?" "Sure. Whaddaya mean?" "What I mean is that we just met yesterday, and we haven't even been out on a date. We don't know anything about each other at all." "But Karl! We already slept together naked." He grinned and looked pleased with his reposte. "But that's exactly what I mean, Larry. Maybe we shouldn't have." Larry's grin faded like a cloud covering the face of the sun. "But...we both liked it. Right?" "Yes, of course we both liked it. People are supposed to enjoy being sexual together. I never really thought about it before. I think I'm really going to like making love with you a lot." "So what's the problem?" He was really puzzled. It wasn't a puppy dog act now. "So don't you want to get to know me? Or do you only want me for my body?" I couldn't believe I was asking that. I mean, Marlena Dietrick could get away with a line like that, but me? God! Who'd have thought? "Ummm...I know the right answer to that, Karl. But can't I have both?" And he giggled again. "Let's keep talking about it, and I'll tell you when I'm ready. Ok?" "Sheesh. You were ready before coffee. I'll have ta remember to attack ya before ya really wake up next time, that's for damned sure!" I caressed his perfect cheek (the one on his face, that is...) and smiled at him. "That's my little horn dog." "So I'm still cute?" I didn't even blush anymore. What a difference a day makes, huh? "Yes, you're still incredibly cute." "Good. So are you! Can we count today's tour of the back roads as a date?" "Yeah, I guess so..." "Cool! This will be our second date, then, right? Yesterday counts too, don't it? What can we do after two dates?" "God, Larry, are you going to be keeping score or what?" "Damn straight! Pardon the expression..." He giggled again and continued, "You're the one so serious about dates and all. How many dates before we CAN fool around some more?" Ah, the young and relentless! Of course, I hadn't even asked myself that question before. So how could I give him a definitive answer, then? Instead, I just shook my head, swatted his bubble butt and hauled him out to the car. And Larry began to show me around my new parish. Helen Hyde had been right about the several hundred miles of narrow blacktop and dirt roads that spread out on three sides of Walden. On that first morning, we barely made a dent in all the lanes and by-ways criss-crossing each other. I was immediately pretty confused, and it all looked alike to me, but Larry pointed out the little road markers, the system of Rural Route mailbox numbers, and some of the names on the bigger farms. And we talked. He acted as DJ ("None of that Leonard Cohen crap, he's soo depressing!") as well as navigator. I asked him questions about himself, his habits, his likes and dislikes. He seemed oddly diffident when talking about himself. It was a noticeable contrast to his open pursuit of me sexually. I couldn't ask him any "yes" or "no" questions, because that was the only answer I got. The affirmative or negative response led nowhere else, conversationally. He just habitually held back, and asked me more about myself. He seemed to be content to just BE with me, and didn't feel the need to talk about everything. So I found myself telling him about my workaholic accountant father. Very successful, very well off financially, but never home, never involved much in the lives of his family. I told him about my depressed mother, who tried to fill the empty spaces in her life by perpetual volunteer activities in the Church and the classy Philadelphia suburb I was raised in. I told him about how Mother was much more emotionally involved in her dieting than in the lives of her children. I mentioned my older brother Michael, the flashy and successful amateur actor and football star. And how much of a contrast there was between his steady string of gorgeous girl friends and my own loner status, the avoidant good student with few friends. I tried to describe my hopes for finding some Universal Goodness and Truth in my calling to the ministry. As I spoke, I realized for the first time how empty much of my life had been. Not terrible, nothing awful, just empty, flat, boring, and intellectual. Nothing emotional or exciting in my life. Until now. Until I met Larry. All the time I was talking and driving, Larry sat nestled close to me, except for the few times we passed people or other vehicles. When that happened, he scooted over to the other side of the seat, so it would look normal. But even then, his hand remained on my leg or my shoulder. He needed the physical connection, I guess. I can't say that I minded. But it did begin to bug me that we had such a solid physical connection while he was so quiet about his own life and thoughts. It was difficult to connect with him emotionally. I realized that I had done most of the talking. And I needed him to talk too, and not just be a good listener. I asked him about his brother Gary. "He plays football like your brother. But he's no star. He's a bully and a jerk." "Does he bully you?" "Only when I'm around him. So I stay away from him." "But what about your folks? Don't they help you with Gary?" "Help me? How?" He was studying the road ahead, and planning the next twists and turns in the way ahead. "Well, don't they tell him to leave you alone?" "No. They don't see it. I'm the Invisible Boy, remember? My mother is sad and depressed like yours. Only my Mom doesn't go out and do anything much." Oh yeah, I sure remembered his extremely resentful tone when talking about his invisibility. Maybe that could be a hook to use to draw him out a bit. "You're doing a pretty good job of being invisible to me too, Larry! I'm not the only one that's used to being an island, I guess!" I was referring to the Simon and Garfunkel song Larry had played last night on my newly unpacked stereo. He'd asked me if I was a rock and an island like in the song, and he'd told me that he wanted me to be less isolated inside myself. Larry sighed, and said, "Yeah. I'm not used to talking about myself. It feels weird." "But you have to talk to me and tell me things about yourself if we're going to learn about each other." Larry grimaced and said, "Yeah, ok. Keep asking me questions..." And so I did. With Joan Biaz, The Hollies, and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band playing in the background, Larry slowly began to open up to me. I discovered that he liked sports that he could play on his own, like running and swimming. He loved reading, and lost himself for days at a time in fantasies and science fiction. His favorite subject in school was history, and he enjoyed placing himself in different historical time periods, imagining a better life for himself anywhere and any time away from here. His passion was planning how soon he could leave small town life and move to a big city. "Why is that, Larry?" "Ummm, more people there, and more private." "More private?" "Yeah, maybe I can be different in a big city. There aren't any people here in Walden that are like me, ya know?" "Larry, I had exactly the same feeling when I was living near a big city, too. I never found anybody that I felt was really like me way down deep. I don't think it's much different than being here in that department." "I hope you're wrong about that, Rev. I sure want to be somewhere else than here. Except that now, you're here. And maybe things will be ok..." He was looking at me pretty intently now. I reached over and touched his shoulder and told him I hoped the same thing. It was a quiet and tender moment. I'll remember it perfectly for the rest of my life. Then I asked him, "What's your biggest wish?" His eyes gleamed and the violet colors swirled as he looked over at me and whispered, "Sex with you..." I guess I knew that already. "What's your biggest secret?" "You know that one already, Karl. That I'm gay!" "No, not that, I mean, well, what's something else that I don't know about you...that nobody else knows about you?" He thought for a minute, then answered, "I like going naked. At my fort, swimming in the river or the pond when nobody's there. I rode my bike naked once, in the middle of the night. The seat chafed the crack of my ass something awful, but I loved it. Rode for a coupla miles like that." And he blushed. I laughed, and said, "I wish I could have been there to see it!" He looked over at me and said, "You can if you want to, Rev! Wanna make that our next date?" I thought he was joking, but he wasn't. He was making an invitation. Shit. Persistent little devil. At that moment, I searched for anything I could use as a distraction. And I found it! There was a tidy medium-sized farm house over to our right, and I saw the squat figure of a large woman singing something at the top of her lungs while pinning wet laundry to the huge clothesline that started at one side of the back porch. It was Helen Hyde. "Look! Isn't that Miss Hyde over there?" Larry looked in the direction of my pointing finger and grunted in surprise. "Yeah, sure is. I didn't know where she lived before. Never thought about it." She waved when she saw who we were. I guess a passing vehicle out here on these country roads always occasioned a look to see who was going by. So I pulled the car up the gravel drive that circled the front of the house, as Larry moved over to his side of the bench seat in preparation for meeting other people. "Let's not stay too long, ok, Karl?" "Come on, sport. I like her. She's ok, I think." All of a sudden I had a whining teenager on my hands. "Come on Karl, she's one of my teachers...and I want to be alone with you! This is a date, remember?" "Let's be sociable and make some friends. It'll be good for us, get us off our islands a little." Larry rolled his eyes toward the heavens but looked resigned to his fate as we pulled up the long drive to the pretty white clapboard house. The neatly trimmed hedges and carefully arranged groupings of lilac bushes and other flowering plants and shrubs impressed me. Helen Hyde beamed as she said, "Hello, again, boys! Fancy meeting you here! Come on out of that car and sit awhile!" As we did that, the matronly woman turned and shouted into the house, "Kitty, come out here and meet the new Pastor I was telling you about!" A tall and stately figure came out onto the porch and joined Helen Hyde. Although they both looked to be about 50 years old, Kitty was at least a foot taller than the friendly music teacher, and cut an imposing figure in a starched white uniform of some sort. Her upswept hair style suited its dark red coloring, and her confident and erect posture reminded me a bit of Kathryn Hepburn. "Kitty Pratt, meet Karl Gardner, our new Pastor. And this fine looking young man is Larry Russ." We all smiled our greetings to one another. Helen continued, "Kitty is Head Nurse in the Emergency Unit down at St. Johnsbury Hospital." Helen looked a little proud as she said that. Kitty smiled and said, "Yes, that's right, and I have to go to work on a beautiful day like today, worse luck for me." Her voice was deep, warm, and soothing, somehow. I imagined she must have a terrifically reassuring bedside manner. I liked her immediately. Helen invited us to sit around a big circular wicker table. The seatcovers on the chairs were all in floral prints matching the cotton tablecloth. The fresh flowers in the vase in the middle of the table all looked like they came from right out of their own garden. This was just what I'd imagined a country home should be like. Larry had been pretty subdued, and he sat as close to me as the wide arms of the wicker chairs allowed for. But both Helen and Kitty made sure to include him in the conversation at every turn. Larry seemed surprised when Helen told us, "Larry here is one of my favorite students." He blinked and asked, "Why? I'm not much good at music..." "Your voice isn't half-bad, young man. Besides, what's good got to do with anything? You try hard, you're a very nice guy, and you're cute, too!" Helen gushed. Larry blushed. Kitty smiled and said, "Don't embarrass him, dear. He'll never come back and visit with us again if you do that." And with that, Kitty gracefully moved all of us further down the conversational highway. We were friends in the first 30 minutes. The freshly made lemonade helped, of course. And the thing was, I didn't usually feel so relaxed around new people like this. Helen and Kitty made me want to stay right there, and come back soon. And neither of them seemed to think it was strange that my companion was a 14-year-old youth. Even Larry was enchanted by their hospitality, and forgot to worry about how long we stayed there. The short stop turned into lunch, and quite a spread it was, too. Homemade bread stuffed with tuna. An amazing garden salad that seemed to include every green leaf and vegetable available. Fruit and cheese. Eventually, Kitty apologized and excused herself to drive to St. J for her shift. Helen patted her arm as she left the porch. It seemed an easy, familiar, and intimate touch. "I wish she didn't have to go in today. It's been such fun having guests like you two handsome men!" We were both blushing. But I didn't want to out-stay our welcome, and so we also said our good-byes and followed Kitty's solid looking silver Volvo station wagon out the drive. I headed where Larry pointed, back to town, and Kitty's white uniformed arm waved out the window at us as she turned and drove the other way. It was the middle of the afternoon, so I told Larry we should head back to the parsonage. He lit up with a smile that was about 100,000 watts in strength. "Now you're talkin', Rev...!" His violet eyes began to smolder, and I started to fall into them. But then I forced myself to blink and draw back from the seductiveness of those beckoning velvet depths. "Hey, you! Don't you go starting about THAT again, kiddo!" "Awww, Karl..." "I haven't told you I'm ready yet, have I?" "Well, no, but...." "No buts! This has been one of the best days I ever had. Don't ruin it by becoming a pest about making out." "Jeez, Karl, you sound like one of those cheerleaders the guys on my brother's football team talk about. All tease and no action!" I was shocked. I suppose I DID sound something like that. Oh well, there is something to be said for holding out for a special person, and a special occasion. I tried to explain that to Larry. "I'll try not to tease you. The longer we wait, and the more we know each other, the better it'll be." "Ya mean, like a honeymoon or something?" "Yes, exactly." "So we have ta get married before we can do it?" And he giggled. I joined him, although I was trying to be serious. "Larry, I just want us both to be sure. I want it to be right. For the right reasons. At the right time. Not just because we're really horny for each other." And yes, my expression told him, I was just as horny right then as he was. He adjusted himself in his shorts, and I had to do the same in my khakis. That made us giggle at each other again, and he grabbed my hand and held it as we drove back toward the town Green. As we came around a long curve in the road, I realized that we were almost on top of the Green. I could see both of our houses. And as we drew even with Larry's house, we could see Bud Russ out in the yard. Larry pulled his hand out of mine as we slowed. "Hi, Pop..." "Hello, Mr. Russ" we said simultaneously out the open window. Bud Russ shuffled over to the car and leaned into Larry's window as he looked at me. "Afternoon, Pastor. I need him if you're finished with him." And not even a look in Larry's direction, or a reply to his greeting. I didn't like the looks of that. "Why sure, Mr. Russ, no problem. Larry was just beginning to show me around all the back roads in the parish. We're about finished for the day, I think. Right, Larry?" I tried to sound cheerful. "Yeah, I guess, if you say so. I'll just go get my bike and come right back, ok, Pop?" "No dawdling around." "Ok. Really, I'll be right back." He sounded small and tense all of a sudden. I had never seen him like that, except for when he was terrified about my possibly negative reaction to his coming out to me yesterday. It made clouds gather on this otherwise sunny day, for damn sure. I drove the couple hundred yards further to my own driveway, and pulled up in front of the house. We could both see that Bud Russ was standing right there in plain view, fists on his hips, waiting for Larry. We exited the car as slowly as we could, to give us a bit more time to talk. "Karl, I want to come back tonight, like before. Ok? I really need to. But I'll have to do a sneak, cuz I'm still grounded." "Larry, I don't like you taking any risks. I don't want you in trouble with your father over anything. Maybe you'd just better lay low tonight and stay in." He was fierce in his determination, even though he kept his body language casual and his voice low. "NO! I need you. I want to be here with you." "Larry, I won't tell you no, and you don't need my permission, really. I can't stop you, anyhow. You have to do what you think best. But PLEASE please think before you do anything rash." "I have my keys. Keep the outside lights off. Bye!" He looked close to tears as he picked up his bike and trudged toward his father. I re-entered my own new house. At first, every fiber of my being was thinking about Larry and what he might do to get himself or me into trouble that night. So, as an antidote to worry, I tried to focus on everything else I had to do. The sermon wasn't finished, and Sunday was only a few days off, and the unpacking wasn't done. I had a list of phone calls to make, continuing to introduce myself to my new congregation. Before I met Larry, I had worked out an organized plan to contact and meet every member of the parish in the first few months of my tenure. I wanted to get to know my people, and begin to have them get to know me. My agenda had just become more complicated. But believe it or not, the rest of the afternoon passed pretty quickly. I was able to concentrate on that long list of stuff that needed doing, and I worked my way through it item by item. I organized the books on my office shelves. Lots of them were reference works I used in sermon preparation and such, so I liked to know where everything was, and have them close to hand. I figured out the simple office machines: electric typewriter, mimeograph machine, how to type the stencil for the Sunday Bulletin, and how to correct mistakes on the damn blue paper-like material without ripping a hole in it. Then I picked out hymns from the list of suggestions that Miss Hyde had left me, and chose the readings and prayers from the worship book. I even ran off 200 copies of the bulletin, since I didn't want the stencil ruined somehow by waiting once I'd finished it. I was worried that I might fold it in half and make a crease, or even sit on the damn thing. So I got it out of the way. By then it was suppertime, so I began to put together a light summer meal. After that, I went around the house, closing curtains and turning on lights. Last night, while waiting for Larry, the house had seemed big and scary and empty and dark. Tonight, I realized that it was really quite a comfortable home. The light from the well-placed lamps warmed the interior of the rooms. Once I'd personalized the space a bit, I began to imagine becoming very much at home here. While I ate supper, I watched the local news on Channel 5 from Plattsburgh. And then, of course I tuned in on Walter Cronkite for the national doings on Channel 3. The reception wasn't too bad. I made a note to myself to subscribe to TV Guide so I'd know when my favorite shows were on. Not that I'd have much choice with only the four local channels to choose from, but what the heck, I wasn't used to anything more. Ah, the good old days. How times have changed in the years since then! After I cleared the supper things, I showered and dressed in my sweats and an old Harvard tee shirt, and even found the box that contained my favorite old slippers. And went back down to the study to work on my Sunday sermon. It took me a few minutes to locate my notes, tucked away as they were in files I had still not unpacked. But I did find them, and then put on that Leonard Cohen album Larry had so disapproved of earlier in the day. All through the afternoon, my mind was only about half focused on the tasks at hand. The other half was naturally enough thinking about Larry. I was very pleased with myself for having insisted on us "dating". I wasn't sure what the next "right things" were going to be as our relationship developed. I wasn't sure what relationship to even hope for, to be honest. Of course I was fascinated by the idea of making love with him. And I was developing strong feelings for him. Stronger than I had ever had for anybody else in my life. No previous friends, no school mates, no work colleagues, not even family members had made me feel so intensely as I did for Larry, almost from the moment I laid eyes on him. And so, in everything else I did that night, I thought and wondered about Larry. Larry and me. Us. I was sort of surprised that I wasn't worrying more, actually. Especially after my panic attack last night. My usual style is to worry and obsess about even little things. And this was no little thing! But maybe last night's state of mind had something to do with the fact that I had been just reacting to everything. I was bouncing off emotional walls without really knowing what I thought or felt about any of it. I'd had no time for reflection about anything that was going on. Tonight, I wasn't reacting. I was clear in my mind, and I was trying to do the right thing. I had nothing to feel badly about, in my own behavior, I mean. I wanted to be open to love from now on, and I hadn't realized how closed off I'd been, that's for damn sure. But as much as I wanted now to love and be loved, I wanted it to be clean and good loving. Especially since society was so disapproving of gay people in general, and the age thing thrown in would make for a real mess. I must have been working on the issues in the back of my mind since I went to sleep in the pit of anxiety last night. Because tonight, I wasn't as anxious. I wondered what Larry was doing, I definitely wondered if he was going to be able to come and sleep with me tonight. I worried a bit that he'd be all right, since he'd had so little good to say about his family. But I tried a little of my own medicine, I guess. I tried to think positively. If this friendship were to turn into something more, than I had to trust that it would do so in its own good time. I preached hope (literally, in my case, preached about the concept of hope!), and I was now trying to live my own advice. I had great hopes. I focused on the goodness and the Light in that hope, and tried not to let my thoughts linger on the dark possibilities. With all that running through my mind, I read over the several pages of notes I'd already made on the sermon I would preach this Sunday. This would be an important event for me. Hardly anybody in today's society (other than politicians) has the opportunity and the responsibility to make speeches to one's neighbors, and expect to be listened to. Teachers have the same responsibility, too. So I was trying very hard to think of something worthy of the listeners' attention and consideration. Worthy of their respect, their belief, their trust in the speaker. And these people would be mostly listening to me for the first time. If I messed up, they might not come back and give me another chance. And that would be awful. Not just professionally, but personally as well. I wanted to make a good impression of course, but I wanted to be liked and respected as well. And I wanted to say something that mattered, that would be worth their time. Something that might make a difference in their lives as well. So I was concentrating hard on those notes. I hadn't looked at them in a couple of weeks. Now I read my own thoughts and phrases as I'd written them back then, and they sounded strange to me. All of it was pretty intellectualized stuff. Dry, predictable, stilted, middle of the road, carefully orthodox, unsurprising, a little pompous. Jeez, was I usually this dull? Then I realized that I had written all of those notes before I met Larry. Before my emotions got connected to my head. Before I'd begun to feel things with my heart. It was as though the notes were from a previous time in my life, somehow. Black and white last week, this week all the colors of nature. Last week, I hadn't been falling in love. So I started re-writing. I began trying to write from my heart, and not just from my head and the books I'd been taught to use so well. Knowing Larry was already making me a better person, a more substantial man. Larry's love was helping me see myself more clearly. My confidence in myself was somehow not so shaky. About the job at hand, I mean. Whatever was happening between Larry and me was no less a mystery. And a scary one. But everything else felt better, somehow. The evening passed. Bedtime approached. I put my newly expanded notes away, and shut off the lights in the study. Stretching out on the sofa in the living room with a cup of Constant Comment Tea (my favorite), I thought about the rest of the night ahead. Would Larry come? I admitted to myself that I hoped so. Would he want to sleep with me? I chuckled to myself, as I knew immediately and certainly that he would want that. Would I allow it? My answer should have taken me longer, I suppose. If I was a stronger person, I suppose I might even have fought it. But yes, I would allow Larry to sleep with me again tonight. Not only allow it, I'd welcome it. But I was still going to insist on no sex. I still wasn't ready for that. My old habitual worrying began once again as I relaxed. What if he didn't come? What if he came and we didn't get it right between us? What if people found out about us? All the what ifs paraded through my mind. Until I forced it to stop again. Would laying there on the sofa worrying about Larry make any difference in either his coming or not coming? No, it would not. Could I do anything about what others might think or do? Nope. All I could do was try to love and be loved the best I could, and let the chips fall where they may. That shut up my worry machine for a while. So then I shut off the lights downstairs, made sure the outside lights were off as well, just in case Larry would need the darkness to perform The Big Sneak. And I went to bed. Wearing my sweats and tee shirt, I might add. Nudity might indicate an invitation that I wasn't issuing tonight. Since I had made that decision, I thought about my usual solitary sexual exercise at bedtime. But, for practically the first time since I was about 13, I decided not to do it. Sex with myself seemed suddenly not as exciting as what might be happening with Larry sometime in the future, so I didn't. And having decided that, I wondered to myself if I was really as decided about saying "No" to Larry's advances tonight, if he came. Maybe not, maybe I was fooling myself with a gigantic rationalization. But I hoped not. I intended not. That felt strong. Strong and good. I wondered if I'd have trouble sleeping. If Larry didn't make it tonight, then I wouldn't see him until the morning paper delivery. So just in case, I set the alarm for 7AM. Then I would be sure to be up by the time Larry usually delivered the papers. And then I drifted into the arms of Morpheus, wishing they were the arms of Larry Russ instead. I slept just fine. But he didn't come. He'd tried to. He had been prevented. I didn't know anything about his pain until the next day. (To be continued)