Date: Sat, 18 Sep 1999 03:27:41 EDT
From: ncduffer@hotmail.com
Subject: Love on the Links-Chapter 5

Are we starting to see a pattern here?? I mean, every time I say
I'm gonna try to do better with the updates, life always seems to
get in the way! LOL!  Well, here's chapter 5, along with a link
to my new and improved (thanks eggy!) homepage.  Go check it out
when you're finished with this chapter.  (who knows, you might
find a surprise or two there waitin on ya!!)

http://members.tripod.com/ncduffer

As usual, here's the disclaimer that saves me from the lawyers:
This story is completely fiction, as in, none of it's true.  This
story is about 2 boys finding each other and making LOVE,
therefore, If the laws where you live say you can't read this,
don't read it.  Well, if you do read it, don't get caught.  That
being said, enjoy :)		ncduffer@hotmail.com
*****************************************************************

Jack held me so tenderly, wrapping his strong arms around me. I
pushed back into him, trying to completely envelop myself in him.
I laid my head back on his shoulder as I sat on his lap. We were
lying naked on a blanket in the middle of a grassy field, looking
up at the peaceful blue sky. It was scattered with puffy cotton
clouds, casting a light shadow on the pastoral field below.

"I love you, Jack, with all my heart," I said.

"Will, you mean everything to me," Jack answered. "You paint the
colors of my sky, you shape the contours of my dreams. I see you
in everything I do. God, I love you so much."

He sweetly kissed my cheek, and held me tighter. I felt safe, I
was at home. I wanted to stay wrapped in his essence forever. I
felt my love, passion, and desire starting to surge. I could
sense that Jack felt the same way. I readjusted myself so that I
could embrace his manhood with my soft cheeks. We fit together so
naturally, like two unique puzzle pieces that had only one
matching piece.

"Jack, I'm ready," I said...

~BZZT		BZZT		BZZT		BZZT~

As I was rudely shaken from my dream world and the pleasant
events that were transpiring in it, reality came crashing back
down on me. For the first time since I had met Jack, I was alone.
Truly alone. I had shattered his faith and confidence in me; I
had shared something about him so intensely personal without his
permission that there was no way he could trust me ever again.
The tears were coming back, even though I thought I had shed them
all. It had been 4 days since Jack had spoken to me, and it felt
like it had been 4 years. I had quit eating about the second day;
I was not handling this well at all. I laid in my bed, staring up
at the ceiling fan and wondered how this all got so screwed up.
Sure, I had no right to tell Robert about Jack and me being
together. On the other hand, it was killing me to keep it all
bottled up inside. I saw it as a necessary evil. Jack on the
other hand seemed to see it as the one unforgivable
transgression.

I turned on my stereo, of course I had the CD tray loaded with
depressing music. Let's see, The Cure, Radiohead, Alice In
Chains, Nirvana, and Soundgarden. Somebody call a professional,
I've seen those commercials, I think I may have a problem and
need help! I just couldn't help it; Jack had become my raison
d'être, my whole purpose in life. When you take him out of the
equation, life just seems broken. The only thing that can fix me
is to get Jack back in to my life, I decided.

My mission is now clear, I thought, I'm gonna win that boy back.
If I have to lie, cheat, and steal, I'm gonna do whatever it
takes to make that boy mine again. I've never been one to just
sit back and take shit. One of my good friends once told me, 'you
either deal, or get dealt to.' Well, I've got my cards, I'm ready
to start dealing. I took all my CD's out of the changer, and
replaced them with Pearl Jam's "Ten" album. I cranked it up and
scanned over to "Alive." I put that one on repeat, turned up the
volume, grabbed my shower shit, and took my first steps towards
making my life the way I knew it had to be.

I ate a big breakfast that morning, mom was really happy to see
me eating again. I was wearing a phat pair of Abercrombie shorts
and a Gap navy tee shirt, grabbed my doc martin sandals and my
bookbag, and hopped in the car. I asked mom if I could drive, and
she said sure. I think she was just so glad to have me back to
normal, I could have asked for anything and gotten it. Everything
was going my way, every song that came on the radio on the way to
school was one of my favorites, and the day was just going to be
great. I could feel it. My cosmic energies were at an all time
high, the universe was smiling on me. I could just feel it.

When I walked into school, everyone was milling about in the
courtyard before the bell rang to start classes. I had tunnel
vision, though, no one could distract me on my mission to find
Jack. One thing did stop me though. I noticed Stacey sitting on
some guy's lap. Ok, good, I thought, that solves that problem and
no hard feelings. See, I KNEW this was gonna be a good day. That
was until the wrecking ball that is reality came crashing through
my precarious house of cards. It was almost like in a movie,
Stacey became fuzzily out of focus as the camera sharpened up on
the face of the person whose lap she was sitting in. It was Jack.
She was sitting on HIS lap. no No NO! This wasn't happening, this
was my worst fucking nightmare. I was sure the alarm was gonna go
off any minute, and I'd be in my bed again, laughing at how
absurd this all was. Jack couldn't have Stacey in his lap, that
was MY lap. That spot belonged to ME. Silent salty tears glided
down my cheeks without my even noticing it. The scornful smile
they were both wearing seared into my heart like a red-hot poker.
Suddenly, that big breakfast was rocketing back towards the
surface, and I made a sprint to the bathroom.

After depositing the contents of my stomach into the toilet, I
was sure that along with it, my heart had also been violently
ejected. I was hurt. No, I was beyond hurt. I was in a category
that hurt couldn't even imagine. I felt like my entire nervous
system had been lighted on fire, then ripped out of my body.
Everything was so painfully numb. I couldn't feel anything, and
worse than that, I didn't want to feel anything. The one thing
that I had valued above all else, love, had turned out to be the
cruelest joke ever imagined. To say that my heart was broken was
an understatement; I had given myself to him only to be thrown
out and disregarded like old trash. I cleaned myself up and went
to the office to call my mom to come pick me up. I'd had enough
for today.

I stayed in bed for the rest of the week. My mom would come in to
check on me every now and then, and try to make me feel better.
She told me that she had called a doctor and he had advised her
to change my scenery. She had packed a picnic basket, and took me
out to a state park outside town in the country. The spot we
picked was near a creek, and it was so pretty and peaceful.

"William," my mom started. She was the only one who called me by
my full name. "Your father and I are very concerned about you.
What's gotten into you lately, son? Are you into drugs?"
I nodded my head no and managed a weak laugh. "No, son," she
said, "please don't laugh at me. It just breaks my heart to see
you like this. Your father and I want to do anything we can to
help, you just have to let us."

I really wanted to share everything with my mom right then and
there, but something held me back. "Mom, let's just say I am so
completely hopelessly in love with somebody that doesn't love me
back. Even though I thought they did, and they TOLD me they did,
I saw them with someone else, a good friend of mine the other
day, and it just hurts so much, and oh mom, and I just ache, oh
God it hurts..." I rambled before bursting out in tears.

"Aww, baby, shhh," my mom soothed, hugging me to her, "it's ok,
honey, I know it hurts. It's ok, let it out, sugar." I sobbed
into my mom's arms for nearly half an hour before draining myself
completely of emotion.

When I had regained normal breathing and tried to piece together
some bit of composure, my mom said, "Well, don't worry, honey,
your dad and I have already found you somebody. Do you remember
Dr. and Mrs. Trudeau from Charleston? He was one of your father's
fraternity brothers at Carolina. Well, they have a daughter
that's your age named Hillary. It's always been both sets of
parents' hopes that you two would one day fall in love and get
married. We've both raised you two to be matches for each other.
It's been our plan all along for you to marry Hillary, so don't
even worry about this thoughtless person who has hurt you. You've
got a gorgeous blue-blooded debutante waiting for you when ya'll
are old enough to get married to each other."

I was completely floored, too shocked for a response. My whole
world had been turned upside down in just a few days. My whole
life had been turned into a photo-negative of what it once was.
Black was turned white and vice versa. Not only did I not have my
best friend and boyfriend, I apparently was already pre-engaged
to a girl...a GIRL. CAN things get much worse?? Right then I just
didn't think so. I thanked my mother for bringing me out here,
but said I was ready to leave and go home. We packed up and
headed back to the house. The events of the day had been
completely emotionally draining, and I was mentally exhausted
from all the thinking and soul searching I had done that day.

I decided to go out and do something that had once given me so
much enjoyment and relaxation; I was gonna go play golf. I played
that day with a passion and vigor that was never before in my
game. I was playing for more than just a low score, I was playing
to recapture my soul. Somehow, somewhere, I had lost myself, my
identity. I had defined myself by my relationship with Jack, and
with that now apparently over, I had to reclaim myself for me. I
shot a personal best that day. With the Carolina sun setting and
as I was finishing up on 18, I felt eyes were on me. I scanned
around, and saw Jack sitting in a cart watching me. As soon as he
was busted, he stomped on the gas and whipped the cart around.
That was it, I decided, this shit is gonna either be resolved
through kisses or fists. I threw down my bag and started on an
all out sprint. I wasn't fast enough, however, and when I reached
the clubhouse, I could see him riding off into the distance.

"COME BACK HERE!" I shouted to no one. I shuffled back to pick up
my clubs and headed home.

*****************************************************************

A few weeks ago, Jack and I had signed us and our dads up for the
Club's annual father/son golf tournament. I had completely
forgotten about it until Saturday morning when my dad woke me up.
"Come on, son, get up," he said, "we've got to go show those
people how to play golf today."

I groaned out loud when I looked at the clock. It was 6:30 am on
a Saturday morning. Now that school had started back, Saturdays
were sacred for sleeping in. Add that with the fact that I was
going to spend the entire day with Jack, and I seriously
contemplated hiding under my sheets for the rest of the day. My
dad kept at me, and finally got me up and out of bed. I staggered
to the shower, feeling exhausted and ill rested. I hadn't slept
well since Jack and I had fallen out, and the bags under my eyes
told the whole story. I relished the hot water as it massaged my
skin to life, and soon felt at least a little better. I got
dressed and went downstairs where my mom had a golfer's breakfast
made for dad and me. There were eggs, bacon, short stacks,
omelets, french toast, sausage links, and toast. Good Lord, mom,
what are you trying to do, kill us? I picked at a little food,
and obligingly ate enough to satisfy my mom.

Dad and I loaded up our clubs, and set off for the clubhouse.
When we got there, Jack and his dad were putting their clubs on
the back of their cart. Jack offered a small nod of
acknowledgement, which I returned to be polite. I didn't really
feel like seeing him right now, I was trying to focus and put my
game face on. But like always, he had this way of just
captivating all my attention. My dad and I were in the last
flight, along with Jack and his dad, who teed off immediately
before us. This meant I was going to have the distinct misfortune
of being subjected to watch Jack all day. Don't get me wrong, I
could watch him all day every day, it just ripped my heart out
anew to see him and be so close to him, yet not be WITH him.

I was determined that I was not going to let Jack playing in
front of me distract me in my game. That was easier said than
done, though, because every time I saw his fluid swing, his
slender hips flexing, his strong arms powering through a shot, my
heart sank once again. How could he? I thought what we had was
special, "something people look for their whole lives and never
find," he had once told me. So why was he giving up so easily on
me? I guess I could ask him, but that meant talking to him, and I
just don't think I could handle that right now. No, I'm just
content to sit back and watch him from a distance, I sighed to
myself.

Dad teed off first, powering a drive right around 300 yards.
Everyone that was watching started clapping. I just looked over
at him and he winked at me. Man, I am so proud of my dad
sometimes. I want to be just like him. Who knows, I mean, his
parents arranged for he and my mom to get married, maybe that
system works better than I thought it would. Oh, who was I
kidding? Jack was my one and only, for now and for all time, even
if he couldn't see that right now. I would make him see it,
though, my life depended on it.

Dad and I were really playing well together, we were one stroke
ahead of everyone else, including Jack and his dad. I found it
really easy to lose myself in the game, just letting my instincts
take over, and get my damned heart out of the way. I still
sneaked furtive glances over at Jack, only to see him doing the
same to me. Then both of us would just look away as if nothing
had even happened. Why was this so uncomfortable, I wondered. I
never had a problem talking to Jack about anything and
everything, so why now was there this wall between us? My pride
kept me from seriously answering truthfully to that question,
though, and I found it much easier to blame Jack. I was sure he
already blamed me for all this, and he would be correct; I did
start this chain of events in motion.

But I was sorry, man oh man, was I sorry, and I would tell him
that if he would only talk to me. And then there was the whole
Stacey thing. I didn't even want to THINK about that, it hurt me
to know that someone else was basking in the warmth of his hugs,
the tenderness of his kisses. OK, must stop thinking, must stop
thinking, I silently commanded myself. Aim, Swing, Follow-
through. God, golf was so simple it was beautiful, I thought as I
drilled another sweet shot with a 7 iron. Why couldn't life have
a formula like that to follow?

At the turn, dad and I were 2 strokes under par, with still a one
stroke lead over Jack and his dad who were in second. When we all
went into the clubhouse for a quick drink and a snack, dad and
Jim were talking like they were old buddies. Jack and I just
stood there and we both suddenly became interested in the
intricate details of the carpet we were standing on. One of us
was going to have to make the first move, but neither of us
wanted to be the initiator. It was soon time to head back out
onto the course, and dammit, I was gonna win this thing. Screw
Jack. Man, all I ever wanted to do was love him. If he was gonna
be a little bitch about this, screw him. I'm gonna show him I'm
not just somebody to fuck and leave. His ass is grass, and I'm
the lawnmower...

As the red haze settled in over my eyes, I pounded the ball as
hard as I could. I sent my drive crashing through a thicket of
woods off to the left of the tee on 10. My dad just looked at me
puzzled and teed off. Of course, he hit a beautiful drive, right
on the mark. My anger continued to destroy my game, which only
fueled my anger even further. Pretty soon, my dad pulled me
aside.

"Ok, son," dad said, "what's up? I know something's eating your
guts out, because I've never seen you tank a match like this
before."

"Please dad," I begged, "let's not get into it here. It's
nothing, I promise. I'm just super pissed right now."

"Jack, huh?" dad asked, "you guys fighting over a girl or
something?"

"Yeah, something like that," I replied. Hey, I wasn't exactly
telling a lie.

"Well, let me tell you," dad replied, "I once almost lost my best
friend over a girl. Take it from me, girls come and go, but best
friends are a rare commodity. Guard them with everything you
have, because they can be more precious than gold."

"Thanks dad," I said. While he didn't really say anything that
applied to my situation, just the fact that dad could relate to
the anguish I was feeling really made me settle inside.
Unfortunately, during my little tantrum, Jack and his dad had
managed to climb one stroke ahead of Team Parker. Not for long,
though, not if I could help it.

I instantly started playing much smarter. I couldn't match dad's
massive strength with the drive, but I could finesse a shot with
a much tighter approach. That's how we'd play it; he'd drive, I'd
arrive. My short game started to tighten us in on Jack, and as
the hole numbers grew higher, the score became closer, and the
tension became thick and palpable. Jack could feel me breathing
down his neck, and I enjoyed the feeling. For once, I was in the
driver seat. The game was his to lose, and he knew it. I was full
throttle with no thought of hitting the breaks.

Jack and his dad parred with a 4 on hole 18, scoring 7 under for
the day. Dad and I started 18 at 7 under par also; we needed to
birdie this hole to win and a par to force sudden death. As
always, dad crushed the drive, and the crowd erupted as the ball
hurtled through the air. I brought us on the green in two, but my
approach was a little short. I was on the complete opposite side
of the green from where I needed to be. I looked at dad, and he
read my thoughts. This next shot was for all the marbles. This
next shot decides if we take it to sudden death, or if Team
Parker wins the day. My eyes pleaded for dad to take it, but he
just shook his head no and handed me the Ping putter I bought him
for his birthday. The same putter that was in my hands the first
day I met Jack. I gripped it and silently prayed for it to give
me the luck I needed to sink this shot. I closed my eyes, took a
deep breath, and visualized the ball going into the hole.

When I opened my eyes, the sight I saw before me was something
out of a dream. Jack was standing there, his eyes two lasers
burrowing holes inside my chest as the intensity of his stare
seared through me. Was it his interest in the match? Was it his
interest in me? Regardless, it wasn't gonna keep me from sinking
this next putt. I steadied myself in my stance, eyed my target,
took another breath, and gently sent the ball on its way. The
next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion, as the ball
arched on a predetermined path towards the hole. The next sound I
heard was the one I love so much, the one of the ball falling
into the cup. As the crowd that had gathered erupted, I felt many
congratulatory pats on my back. My dad gave me a big high-five,
and Mr. Stewart came over and stuck out his hand.

"Congratulations on that great putt, Will!" he said. "It's funny,
even though I didn't win, I still feel like my son won today."

"Thanks Mr. Stewart," I said, my eyes focused on Jack's baby
blues the whole time I said this, "You have no idea how much that
means to me."

At the trophy presentation, Jack and I were pretty much forced to
stand beside each other. The thought that kept running through my
mind was 'why is this so fucking weird now?' On the way out to
the car, Mom and James ran up and hugged dad and me. They were so
happy with our performance, and told us how proud they were of
us. Then mom dropped the bombshell. She and Mrs. Stewart had been
working all day on a big barbeque at our house. Jack and his dad
were to get dressed, and then come over to our house ASAP.

Needless to say, I felt like I was going to jump for joy, yet
weep out of sadness at the same time. This was absolute torture,
to be there with him with such tangible tension between us. I
decided to play this one by ear, and be the gracious host.

 As soon as I got home, I jumped into the shower. I had played my
guts out today, and the hot water felt like heaven on my tired
muscles. I sat down in the floor of the tub and just let the
steamy water cascade over my aching body. A few stray tears added
to the water swirling around the drain as I thought of the
precious treasure I had found and then lost. He was such a gentle
beauty, strong but vulnerable at the same time. As I silently
prayed for the strength to make it through this night, I wept. I
wept for him; I wept for what we could have been.

*****************************************************************

Ok, well, devoted readers, that unfortunately, is all for this
installment.  Point your browser on over to my site, though, and
give it a look.  Till next time, Duffer

http://members.tripod.com/ncduffer

ncduffer@hotmail.com