Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 14:05:48 -0800
From: Rick Beck <bjwalkerjr@37.com>
Subject: Billie Joes Journal Chapter 6

Chapter 6
Hope To See You Again

	When you first come out of deep sleep, you hang suspended between
the depths of darkness and the harsh realities of waking and light.  That
wasn't the case for me the second morning I woke up in the motel room with
Carl.  The first thing I could notice or feel was the warmth.  The warmth
concentrated itself where I prodded Carl as we curled together in the
position we always found during sleep. This time my hips didn't thrust
forward because it wasn't necessary.  I could feel the warmth into the
depth of him.  The most marvelous delicious exciting warmth I could have
imagined.  I'd never before awakened as part of someone else, but this
morning Carl and I were united.

	My hand held him, as it always seemed to be doing, but this, too,
was different as he was at rest.  There were no raging needs or endless
desires that usually accented my contact with him there.  He was completely
and totally relaxed.  I could feel his back next to my chest, and my arm
under and around him to hold his chest.

	The feel of his skin can't be described.  It wasn't the feel of it;
it was also the fact that it was his skin.  My face snuggled between his
huge shoulder blades.  It was a lot like what I imagine the sensation would
be to be drifting on an oversize, billowy cloud.  My body was not held by
gravity physics or any earthly constraints.  It floated free, and yet I
existed as part of the person I was connected to.  Feeling his heart
beating at the point of our connection thrilled me.

	It's funny what you can feel and hear when you are first returning
from sleep.  It wasn't the street noises or the buses that passed close by.
It wasn't the horns or the elevator or the oppressions of life.  It was
Carl's body's life signs that I melded into in total harmony.  Matching his
heart beat with my own by thinking it, timing my breath with his breath,
and matching my body's temperature to his through the expanses of skin we
shared.  In perfect harmony I held him, felt him, studied him, loved him.

	Oh, god, how I loved him!

	It wasn't my intention to disturb him, but as usual I was the one
demanding relief.  Was this my immaturity showing through?  Carl seemed
able to let it pass, and perhaps I'd learn to have his self control.  For
me, every time was a desperate need to remember he was my love.  When you
are devoid of that element for the whole of your life, there is something
especially needy about your passion and desire.  Once you rise to the
occasion, it is hard to go away with out completing the thought and
satisfying the need, and so that afternoon in Seattle I drove myself back
into the clouds on Carl's back.  Never knowing if I had awakened him or
not, and not being capable of thinking about it past the instant it took to
cross my mind.

	Once you are on your way back to the skies, you fail to consider
the sweat, the urgency, and the dependency of what you do.  You just soar
and do, and I did.  And this time it didn't take hours, perhaps only
seconds.  Time stands still when you truly love, and that's how I knew I
truly loved Carl.  There was always a timelessness about my time with
him. It all took place in a single second before he was leaving me. In that
second, we lived a lifetime.

The troubles and pain and viciousness of the world never entered or
interfered when I rode Carl amongst the clouds and between the stars.  The
heavens opened up to us and allowed an escape from the things that seem
angry and harsh.  Then there was the falling, the dizziness, the struggle
to keep myself alive as every part of me prepared to explode, and then the
drifting, drifting back to earth like feathers on a gentle wind.

	Now my sweat ran on his back, joining us in yet another way.  My
face felt ten degrees hotter than the coolness of his skin.  Carl!
Unmoved, still there in my arms with that soft skin stretched across the
hard sinew that was his body.  He seemed to sleep on until he too joined me
back in a bed in downtown Seattle.

	"You ever stop?"

	"You got me started."

	"I was sleeping nice and peaceful like, and then you are at it
again.  I didn't start it."

	"Sorry!  As long as you are here it's going to be like this I
guess."

"Sorry?  Sorry?  Can you imagine what it's like waking up being loved by
you?  I thought I was dreaming until I felt you inside.  Then I knew where
I was and you were holding me in your arms."

	"Can't help myself."

	"Don't.  I'm yours."

	"Should we go eat?"

	"I don't even know what time it is.  We were still at it when it
was getting daylight.  That's when we laid ourselves down to sleep. That's
the third time you've finished since then."

	"You need anything?  Are you all right? I don't mean to keep
bothering you. I can't help myself."

	"You've drained me dry. I'm not sure I can keep up with you. I
don't know if I'll ever get it back up again.  It died after that last one
this morning.  Never even bent until then though."

	"You're telling me!  We're going to have to wash that wall.  You've
got that shot down pretty good."

	"Not my fault.  You're the one forces it out of me.  I ain't never
done nothing like that before."

	"Right!  You are sooo innocent."

	"I am sooo happy."

	"Me too. Should we go back to sleep?"

	"Not much time left, Billie."

	"I don't want to talk about it."

	"Time's going to pass whether we talk about it or not."

	"I know.  I drew my head back and stretched my body taught against
his.  "Don't go, my love."

	"We've been through this."

	"I know.  I can always hope. I never want you to leave me."

	We lay there in silence for a few minutes with that reality ringing
around inside my brain.  It became piercingly necessary for me to hold him
tighter to make sure he was really there, and it wasn't all some mad man's
dream.  My insecurity was something I couldn't control.  Like my lust, it
had a life of its own.  I merely observed it in action.

	"We're going to have to break this up, Billie."

	"What's wrong?"

	"I've got to go."

	"Where are you going?"

	"The toilet, shithead.  I've had to go since last night, but I
couldn't bear the thought of separating from you.  I've managed to hold on,
but in a few minutes you're going to be real sorry if I don't take care of
business."

	It took awhile to give him up.  Becoming my own person again had a
certain cooling effect.  He had finally found something he had to do alone.
I dressed while he did it.  He came out and stood with his hands on his
hips staring at me.

	"You don't want to...."

	"No. Let's go out and get some air.  I am hungry.  The room's
closing in on me."

	"Thank god!  I'm drained.  I thought you might want to stay in
bed."

	"The thought crossed my mind.  That's why I got up.  I don't want
the last couple of days to be just a memory of bed time.  I want to do
something we can have fun with.  Enjoy ourselves."

	"You seem to enjoy yourself pretty good in bed."

	"It's new to me.  I can't get enough of you, but I know I'm going
to have to get used to not having you with me."

	"Only for awhile."

	"I've only been alive sixteen years.  A year is a long long long
long long time to me."

	"Me too."

	He walked across the room and leaned down until his face was close
to mine.  I finally looked up at him and he pressed his lips on my lips,
and gave me one of those gentle kisses I loved so much.

	It was bright when we went out. We roamed long into the night.
Carl took his green suit to the cleaners to be picked up for his travels.
We had gotten it pretty wrinkled up on the bus, half a lifetime ago.  He
wanted to look "sharp," and I couldn't imagine there being a sharper marine
alive.

	We went to the arcade, bowled, ran up and down 1st Street.  Rode
the ferry out into Peugeot Sound, and back, of course.  We kissed out at
the very tip of the ferry.  There weren't many people around, but I don't
think we cared much because of being in love and all.

Loving was too good to hide. I'd hidden too long already.  We held hands
and walked and talked long after midnight.  It rained.  We walked.  A car
passed and some guys yelled out of it, "Faggots."  Carl's hand shot up in
the air with a salute he thought they should have.  He turned and kissed me
passionately before they were out of sight.  Even in his civvies he was
massive looking to me.  Noises were all anyone was going to make around
Carl. He was one squared away marine.

	It made me wonder.  He was such a man's man.  How could he feel
like I felt?  How could he choose to be like me?  It made no sense.  No one
liked being yelled at or called names.  Why would someone like Carl be gay?
That confused me the more I thought about it, and I didn't like being
confused or yelled at.

	My brother took us to the airport and Carl stood so proud and tall
in that green suit.  He was sharp.  We didn't say anything but stayed
close.  I held his hand on the way down Route 5.  My brother saw it but
said nothing.  Carl saw him seeing it.  He looked at me like he didn't know
why I was doing that there.

I wasn't hiding any longer.  I was me and if someone didn't like me, that
was their problem.  I was "out" and I wasn't ever going back in.  John
dropped us at the entrance so Carl didn't have to carry his big green bag
too far.  He parked and said he'd come to the gate.

	My stomach was empty and my heart was starting to break.  Carl's
large hand stayed planted in the middle of my back all the way through the
airport until we stood beside the gate where his plane would depart.  He
cried first.  I didn't start it.  We still didn't talk.  We just looked at
each other and cried.

	"You're going to be here when I come back?" he sobbed.

	"Right on this spot," I said.  "I'll be standing right here when
you come back to me."

	"I love you," he said, and hugged me to his chest and he sobbed "I
don't want to leave you."

	"Don't."

	"You aren't going to make this easy!"  Tears ran down his cheeks.

	"No."

	He hugged me again and a middle age man who was walking by paused
and said, "Disgrace to the uniform!  You should be shot!"

	Carl broke away from me and his face turned crimson with rage.  I
felt the muscles in his arms tense like a cobra readying for a strike.

	"Carl," I shouted, "Don't."

	"Why don't you fuck off, asshole," I heard in John's voice.  "This
kid'll break you in half you don't get out of his face. You best walk
away... NOW!"

	The man faded into the rush of people coming and going.  Carl held
me again and didn't sob any longer, but tears continued to run down his red
face.  I hugged his waist and kept my face in his chest as I shook and
soaked his tie and shirt.

	"I love you," I said, looking up at his face.

	"I love you."

	I stood at the window watching the plane move back away from the
terminal.  The tears ran, but it wasn't like I was crying.  They just did
it on their own. I felt my brother's arm around my shoulder when I stopped
spacing out on the plane that was stealing my love away.

	John and I walked in silence to the car.  I reached into the back
seat and pulled out my gym bag that contained my clothes.  I set it in the
middle of my lap as brother John drove away from the terminal.

	"You've got it bad, kiddo."

	"Good," I clarified.  "I've got it good, John."

	"You're buying into a lot of trouble at a pretty young age you
know."

	"Old enough."

	"I didn't say you weren't old enough.  That's not what I said.
It's just that you're going up a rough road. You've got some growing to do
before you can handle it, kiddo.  That's what I'm saying."

	"Drop me on Route 5."

	"What?" he shouted, slamming on the brakes and sliding the car to
the shoulder.

	"I'm going to California.  Drop me off at Route 5.  That's what I
said."

	"Not going to happen, kiddo!  Even if you were older, the old man
would skin me."

	"You and the old man don't have any thing to do with it, John.  I'm
going to California.  You can drop me off on Route 5, or you can take me
back with you, and the first time you turn your back I'll be out on Route 5
in the middle of downtown and probably get my ass run down.  I don't care
what you do.  I'm going to California."

	"Even if I let you, mom and dad'll shit themselves."

	"I'm sorry about that.  I'm sorry about being a fag, but that's
what I am, John, and I ain't going back to stupid Minnesota to get my
brains bashed in by some ignorant redneck.  I'm going to where people will
let me find out who I am."

	"Does Carl know you're doing this?"

	"Yes, he had the same reaction you did.  Said exactly the same
thing.  Carl's gone."

	"If you loved him, really I mean, you'd wait for him."

	"You see, that's it right there.  That's why I'm going.  I do love
Carl.  You want to watch my lips.  We've been holed up in a motel room
since we left your place.  We found each other and we somehow fell in love.
I can't go back to Minnesota.  I can't go back to being mom and pop's
little boy.  I'm not a little boy, John.  I know what I am, and I know what
I want.I can't be what I am or get what I want in Minnesota.  Not going to
happen.  Now I'm taking this summer for myself. I'm going to try to screw
my head on tight, and then I'll go home to Minnesota and wait for Carl.
That's the only deal there is.  There is nothing you, mom, pop, or any one
else can do about it. I've made up my mind."

	"What happened to my little brother, kiddo?  You were always so
damn smart. This is pretty damn dumb."

	"You don't know what it's like feeling what I feel, John.  Don't
tell me I'm stupid for feeling something.  I watch people all around me
every day, feelin' nothin'.  I felt nothing all my life.  I've finally
found a way to feel. Now I've got to live with it.  I'd die in Minnesota.
Faggot's don't flourish in Minnesota, John.  They sometimes don't even
survive."

	The car screeched off the shoulder and another car slammed on the
brakes and swerved around us giving us a one finger salute.  My brother's
face turned as red as Carl's had been.  We passed the car that passed us
just as he was trying to move in front of us.  John leaned on the horn and
saluted back and we were doing eighty miles an hour on that access road.

	John screeched the car to a halt at the Route 5 overpass.  One ramp
went north and back to Seattle and his apartment, and one ramp went south
into the unknown.

	"Get the fuck out of my car," John growled, not looking at me.

	"I'm sorry, John.  I've got to go.  I can't stay.  I've got to find
out who I am."

	"You better call me every night.  Collect.  Just call and I might
accept the call and I might not.  Depends on whether or not I'm pissed at
you at that moment for doing this.  At least I'll know you are alive.  What
do I tell mom and dad, Billie Joe?  What do I tell your parents?  You're
putting me up against the wall here and I don't like it. I don't like it at
all."

	"I'm sorry, John.  You think of something.  You do what you have to
do.  I'll call. I promise."

	Before I slid out, John pressed a twenty dollar bill into my hand.

	"It's all I got, kiddo.  Don't buy soft drinks or junk.  Get the
jumbo burgers.  No fries.  Drink water. You might survive a few days on
that."

	"Thanks, John.  I'll be back before school starts.  Tell them that.
Whatever you want.  I can't go home.  I can't. Tell them.  Thanks."

	John stayed there on the edge of the road as I walked down through
the dirt and grit on the ramp.  I put his twenty in my jacket pocket and
found an envelope with a note from my lover.

	I stood at the bottom of the ramp and stuffed the twenty in my
pocket and found a crisp new hundred dollar bill folded in the note.

	"I'll worry about you, Billie Joe," the note said.  "I wish you
luck.  Don't worry about me.  Do what you got to do.  Carl.  P.S.  In case
you haven't figured it out yet, I'm crazy about you.  I knew you wouldn't
take the money, but I've got to know you are eating okay."

	I wiped the tears from my eyes and swallowed some bad air.  I heard
the air brakes from a truck swish and puff as the longest truck I'd ever
seen up close slid off onto the shoulder and a horn tooted two short
bursts.  As I climbed up into the cab I saw John's car slowly moving across
the bridge.  I stuck my hand up and waved.

I slid in beside a red-haired boy who seemed a little older than me.  The
driver smiled and the truck was immediately moving forward and sliding
right back out on the merge lane as he shifted more gears than I knew
existed in one vehicle.

	"Where you headed, son?"

	"California," I said.

	"Me too," the red headed kid smiled and reached for my hand.  "I'm
Raymond."

	The truck cut through the cloudy cool day.  I was on my way...
somewhere.

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bjwalkerjr@37.com

If you ARE enjoying this, try my other story, DISCOVERING GREGORY,
/nifty/gay/highschool/discovering-gregory/