Date: Sat, 19 Oct 2002 11:27:38 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: Tommy Series (Returning Home) Chapter 7 Gay A/Y, Y/F, Camping Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ The Paratwa Partnership, Inc. is a publication and marketing agency and is not responsible for the content of the Tom Cup Library, TomCup.com or its affiliate sites, or stories written by Mr. Cup or his associates. ************************************************************************ Tommy Series By Tom Cup Returning Home Chapter 7 Life is Queer It's strange how life can spend on a dime. One day you are moving in a clear direction, single minded and with purpose. The next moment you are hurdling into the dark and void of abyss. It would be that kind of the summer for Brian and me. We started the summer much as we had the previous, riding into town together on my motorcycle. As we rode pass Lou's diner, I heard a whistle behind us, and a voice shouting to Brian and me. I circled back to find Lou huffing and puffing on the edge of the parking lot of the diner. "Jesus," he weased, "Let me catch my breath." Brian and I stared at each other. Lou had always been civil to us, even when Lucy had not, but neither of us could fathom why he had flagged us down. "Where you been boy," Lou questioned, bent over with his hands on his knees and staring up at Brian. Between the end of school and the opening of the campgrounds, Brian and I had three free weeks. James wanted to head west, before the summer was in full heat, to camp and fish. It worked well that Brian stayed with me after school ended and rode with me back to the campground. Lucy had always -- mean bitch that she was -- complained about headaches. I remember Brian saying that she got headaches because she always had her head up her ass. I'm sure that the comment passed through his mind, as surely as it passed through mine, as Lou told us that an inoperable tumor had been discovered in her brain and had wrapped around her brain stem. "You know she always had those headaches. Never did nothing about them except pop more pills. That was the tumor. She got dizzy in here. Had her sit for a while. Next thing I know she's saying she can't feel her legs. I ask if they fell asleep. She says, `Lou,' I mean in such a tender voice that I knew something was wrong, `I can't see.'" I looked at Brian. I couldn't read what he was thinking, or feeling. He wasn't pale from shock, or shaking in fear. He registered nothing. Like he was watching a television show that he had seen so many times that it neither thrilled nor amused anymore. "She's at Bethesda now. Critical but stable. I don't know how long she'll last. They say it's the size of a grapefruit, the tumor. She must've been in unbelievable pain." Both Lou and I waited for Brian to say something, anything. Lou and I stared at each other and at Brian and back again. When Brian finally acknowledged our presence it was to stare unbelievingly at us as to ask, "Am I suppose to feel sorry for her?" But we did feel sorry for her. She was a miserable bitch but at least we now had a reason to hang on her misery: pain. She had endured, what we thought were migraine headaches from over dependency to alcohol and painkillers, for years. How many years? Who could say? We learned that the alcohol and painkillers didn't produce the headaches. Lucy had started using them to alleviate the pain caused by the malignant cancer growing in her brain. "You should go and see her," I whispered after a false start at lovemaking. Neither of us was really in the mood. We laid nude together, holding hands, uncovered, both staring up at the ceiling as if waiting for a secret message to materialize there. "I mean, she is your mom." I felt him nodded. Then he squeezed my hand and I felt his body tremble. The bed shook and Brian mourned his mother. ************ On August 9th, Lucy died; thirteen days before I was to start college, eighteen days before Brian was to enter eighth grade. As we left her grave -- Mom walking beside me on my right, Brian on my left holding my hand tight enough to cut my circulation and James on the far left with his arm around Brian's shoulder -- I heard James whisper to Brian that he would never be alone or homeless. James didn't want Brian to worry about that. James had convinced Lucy to sign legal custody of Brian over to himself in the event of her death. I suppose, if anyone wanted to contest the documents they would have been tossed out since Lucy was in so much pain and heavily medicated when she signed the papers. No one contested. James took care of all the funeral and burial expenses. Lou sent food to James' house, where Brian received condolences from Lucy's friends -- to our surprise she seemed to have a great many. Lou organized a memorial fund for Brian. Enough was raised so that, even without what James set aside for him, Brian could afford to go to college. Lucy gave Brian in death what she could never give him in life: a loving father and a chance to make a better future for himself. Life is queer some times. ************ In November of my junior year, we lost James to an automobile accident -- he hit a telephone poll when his car skidded out of control on a patch of ice while he tried to avoid hitting some kid that darted out between some parked cars. Brian was devastated; he lost the only father he had ever known. The accident sent me spinning into memories of my loss of Ron and, I too, felt like I had lost a father, for the second time. Brian was not the same after James' passing. He moved in with Mom until I graduated and he went off to Wyoming to college. The time he lived with James gave him a love for the west he had never seen. I planned to join him but he said that he wanted to be on his own his freshmen year. I agreed and took a student teaching position at Shadyside Elementary School. I expected Brian to return home the summer between his freshmen and sophomore year. We had planned on expanding the campground by joining it with James' property. When I visited Brian during spring break, it became clear that he would not be coming back and that our time as lovers was coming to an end. "I can't go back right now," he whispered, "It's too hard." "What about us?" I asked, "You still want me to move here?" "You're the only boyfriend I've ever had. I just...." I nodded. I understood. He was ready to move on. I was ready to settle down. We were in two different places. ************ Life is so queer. Brian graduated with a degree in forestry. He sold the farm to me shortly after he graduated and he and his new partner, Ian, moved to Utah -- God only knows why. They have a cabin back in the woods and are very happy together. I talk to Brian at least once a month to this day. Keith reappeared in my life not long after Brian moved to Utah -- at our tenth anniversary class reunion. Quite a few people stared at us as we greeted each other. If not confirmed in their suspicions, certainly realizing for the first time that we were the first gay males they had ever known. Keith had moved to California with his mother while I was in Germany. He never went to college, for that matter he didn't finish high school, but makes a nice living with his significant other building and remodeling houses. His mother decided to move back to Prince George County to be near to her remaining family so I see Keith once or twice a year. It is always like we are young again when we are together. Now, I spend most of my time teaching English to high schoolers, during the day at Suitland High; and creative writing in the evenings at the community college, twice a week. During the school year, I live with Mom. She's never remarried and I don't think she is inclined to -- I think she is afraid that she might meet, and fall for, someone that doesn't approve of my being gay. That bothers her more than it does me. She has become highly sensitive to gay issues. My summers are still spent at the campgrounds, where I swim, hike and write. I suppose I am surprised that I am not crazily hunting for a life partner -- that next great lover, but I'm not. I remember what James said to me, that one day I would want a life partner, but that day hasn't arrived. Oddly, I feel complete. I have loved deeply in my life, and I have been deeply loved. That's satisfying. My life has been gay and queer in so many senses of the words. I often wonder if my life could have been different, if there were some point in my life where I could have chosen not to be attracted to other males. If there is such a point, I can't find it. But I also realize that I am guarded with my young pupils. Sometimes I am fearful that one of them may get too close, become too friendly. I wonder; could I fall for a twelve year old the way Mr. Steel fell for me? I wonder if there were any other boys out there like I was or if there was something unique about my genetic make up that made me unusually ready for sex at a young age? Then I wonder if it matters at all. I'm happy. My lovers were happy. No one got hurt. ************************************************************************ Thanks to all that read this series. I appreciate all the comments on the story. Until we meet again, Tom