Date: Thu, 30 Oct 2014 18:54:12 -0700
From: Ben Ezra Jacobson <ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 3, The Moose Head Lake Kidnapping

THE MOOSE HEAD LAKE KIDNAPPING
by
Ben Ezra Jacobson

Chapter 3

FLYING HOME

     "Please select a seat after you stow your carry on luggage in a
compartment.  Seat belts must be fastened before we take off.  As soon as
we are in the air and the captain speaks to us...you will be free to move
about the cabin," our stewardess said.  She smiled and was very kindly
dispositioned to assist the fellow travelers.

     "Do you want to sit next to the window or next to the aisle," Sam
asked me?

     "Next to the aisle," I had replied.  "I am not sure that I want to
look out the window from the height we will be traveling."

     With my gear stowed safely over head...at least that which I was able
to carry on...the rest was in the cargo hold and would be retrievable when
we landed in Chicago, I sat back in my seat to relax.  When we boarded the
airliner...the sky was still sunny and clear...but the stewardess was
telling one of the other passengers that a storm was anticipated between
Maine and Illinois...and we might have to fly above it or around it.  I had
read about jet planes often dropping a few hundred feet and if the
information was correct, I prayed that it would not be on this flight.  I
also heard the stewardess say that there was some possible problem with the
air conditioning.  I wondered if that meant that it would not work or
perhaps it could not be shut off.  Surely the staff had everything under
control...but these little snippets of news kept me in a constant worry
over what might lie ahead.

     Sam squeezed my hand.  "It will be fine, Ron...don't worry.  I am here
with you."

     I squeezed his hand back and smiled...but I was anything but
reassured.

     Twenty minutes later we were taxiing down the run way.  My head began
to swirl as we became air born.  I gripped the arm rests with great fury.
Sam chuckled and put his left hand over my right hand as I gripped the arm
rest between us.

     "Breath deep Ron...it will help."

     I did so and surprisingly, it did help.  The plane began to level off
and I began to relax.  Thirty minutes after take off, I could see the rest
of our party beginning to move about the cabin as breakfast was being
served.  Sam and I had chosen the last seat at the tail of the plane for
two reasons: (1) It is said that in an emergency landing...the last row of
seats in the tail were the safest and (2) so I could hold his hand with out
a lot of on lookers.

      "Would you care for some breakfast now," our stewardess asked?

     She handed us each a short menu of selections.

     "What," Sam had said, "No trout and eggs, no moose meat gravy over
biscuits, no..."

     She laughed, " Right...another Maine camper, huh?  We can offer you
scrambled eggs and sausage or butter croissant filled with bacon and
cheese."

     "That sounds good to me," I interjected.  "Could I have a Coke with
it, please?"

     "Sure can sweetie.  What about you Algonquin...would you like the
same," She winked and smiled.

     "Yes, please," Sam had replied.

     "Didn't that just piss you off," I said...expecting him to be offended
by what appeared to me to be a slur?"

     "Not at all," Sam replied with a grin.  "She meant nothing of it."

     This was a revelation to me.  He was still grinning when I looked over
at him.  Our breakfast came shortly and the stewardess was still bantering
with Sam and he was dishing it right back at her.  I wished that all of the
nations citizens could be on such good terms.  People were becoming more
litigious over some of the most foolish comments and actions in these
modern days.


      By the time we had been in the air for 45 minutes, we had flown out
of sunshine and were experiencing some turbulence.  Rain was falling and in
the distance...we could see lightning.  The air had become quite cool.
When I asked about the temperature, I was told that the air conditioning
was not functioning properly and they had yet been unable to moderate the
temperature.

     "I can offer you a blanket sir...if that would help," she said.

     I thanked her and stated that I would like that very much.  She
returned with a tan wool blanket with the company insignia on it.  I
unfolded it and spread it over my legs, lap and shoulders.  It felt
wonderful.  It was large enough for two...so I offered the other half to
Sam who graciously accepted it...pulling it up to his chin.  I reclined my
seat and closed my eyes.  It seemed to diminish the bouncing feeling of the
unstable air.  Normally the lights would come on when it got dark in the
cabin...but when they did not...the captain came on the public address
system and stated that the side lighting was malfunctioning from what they
believed to be a blown fuse.  He asked the fliers patience and indulgence
while the engineer worked to restore power.  Well, I thought...there is
nothing wrong with the ventilation system and the air conditioning except
that they could not seem to turn it back to a more comfortable range.  The
cabin seemed to become
 progressively darker.  The FASTEN SEATBELT sign came on once more.  I had
not unfastened mine.
     I closed my eyes once more...and then noticed it.  A hand was creeping
over my knee and moving upward to my groin where it was cupping my balls
and pressing on my cock.  I looked over at Sam who was grinning from ear to
ear.  He was attempting to unfasten my zipper.  There was no one close to
where we were sitting.  I unsnapped my pants and pulled the elastic of my
briefs below my testicles and let him take my penis into his hand.  It
immediately became super hard.  He very gently slid his hand under my
testicles and eased them higher over the elastic band.  With the blanket
pulled up to my chin, he moved his hands higher and when he reached my
nipples...he gave first the right one and then the left one a little tweak.
They and my dick got harder and stood out.

     "Slide them down, Ron," he suggested.

     "Are you nuts," I replied..?  "What if we get caught?"

     "It's safe," he replied.  "No one is paying attention to us...and
there are no passengers in the seat in front of us.  Pull them down to your
knees."

     While the stewardesses were in the front of the plane...I slid my
slacks down to my knees and Sam's hand went deeper.  I felt him pull some
of the hairs on my legs.  He pulled one out and took his hand out from
under the wool blanket.

     "You have such curly hair," he said.  "If you keep watch...I could go
under the blanket."

     "No, Sam," I insisted.  "That's too risky.  Just forget it."

     "Come on," he said, "Don't be such a chicken.  Where is your sense of
adventure?"

     I could not believe that I was having this conversation.  Some one a
few seats ahead coughed loudly.  I felt lips go down on my erection.  Sam
was under the blanket and sucking me.  I closed my eyes for a second
wondering how soon we would get caught and would we be arrested when we
landed.  His tongue went between my legs and licked first one ball and then
the other before coming back to my pulsating penis.  Once more he went
down.  The saliva in his mouth was a fantastic lubricant.  I could feel
little tingly feelings racing up and down my shaft.  My prostate gland felt
like it was swelling and then became real tight as the sensation become
almost electric.  I moaned and then tried to cover it with a cough or two.
The electricity within the tissues of my penis were becoming involuntary as
the pressure was building.  Suddenly, I felt an orgasm coming on.  My lower
torso began to twitch as I ejaculated several big loads into Sam's mouth.
The
 impulse spasmed, then again and again.  I heard Sam gag as he swallowed.
It was quiet under the blanket as he wiped the head of my dick with a
cloth...probably the red bandanna handkerchief he always had with him.  I
felt a few more drops of semen ooze out and the cloth whisked them away.
Slowly he scooted back to the floor board in front of his seat.

     "Ron, is anyone looking our way," he asked?

     "No, not that I can see," I replied.

     He eased himself back upward into his seat and quietly pulled the
blanket back up to his shoulders.  He was grinning from ear to ear.

      I looked at him and whispered, "I can't reciprocate as much as I
would like to...it is just too dangerous on the plane."

     He nodded his head.  "That's OK...I understand.

     I reached under the blanket and felt his hard cock...now a little
sticky from all the oozing of seminal fluid.  With my right hand, I
massaged the head of his penis after pulling back the fore skin.  He had a
proliferation of seminal discharge and I massaged his head with it.  It was
only a matter of a half minute before he erupted.  With his red
bandanna...which he passed to me, I wiped him off and passed the
handkerchief back.

     He leaned towards me.  "Wish we were home with an hour or two to kill.
I would like to have had you on your hands and knees and put my pony into
your corral for a half hour or so."

     "Save that thought for when we get home," I said.

     Sam patted my knee and when no one was looking, he kissed the side of
my face.  I must have dropped off to sleep because I heard some bells
ringing and the captains voice saying to be sure all seat belts were
fastened and that we would be landing in a few minutes.  He did not say
where we would be landing.  I looked at my wrist watch and it was not quite
noon.  Surely we must be close to Chicago.

     The captain announced that we would be landing at O'Hair field
shortly.  Outside, it was still pouring down rain.  The nap had relieved my
concern about making the trip home...and Sam's administrations had relaxed
me.

     We folded the blanket and returned it to the stewardess and put our
seats back in the regular position.  In a few minutes...we heard the wheels
squeal as we touched down.  There was an exit in the front of the plane and
one in the rear.  We took the latter.  In the terminal we all reconnoitered
with our luggage and took a taxi to the railway station where we would
catch the Illinois Central going south.  We would arrive approximately
around mid afternoon.  I was beginning to grow weary of travel.  We ate
lunch in the club car.  It gave us a lift.  While the other's played cards
to pass the time...Sam and I stretched out on opposite seats in our coach.
The next thing I knew...Mrs. Biffle was gently shaking us.

"Time to wake up dears," we are home.

     Professor Biffle had arranged for a charter service to pick us up and
drive us to the university area ten miles to the east.  He and Mrs. Biffle
sat directly in front of us and Brian Biffle, whom we all called Biff...was
sitting behind us in the bus with his buddy Jin.

     Although my parents were home, I went to the Biffle house with them.
Sam and I were given the guest room and Biff took Jin to the bedroom that
he shared with him.  I called my house but the answering machine picked up.

    "Hi Mom, Hi Dad...I am at Dr. Biffle's house with his family.  They
have invited me to stay over night with them.  I will call you in the
morning and we can talk further.  Bye.  Love you."

     The professors Levi...did not return the call that afternoon or
evening.  That did not come as a surprise to me.  I was sure that they
would not like the idea of my bringing my best friend, Sam back with me.
Dr. Biffle had spoken to them a day or so before we left Moose Head Lake
and explained that he was bringing a native American boy back to work at
the university and he and their son had become friends.  They were polite
to their learned colleague but showed little emotion about the idea of
taking him into their home.  That was when Dr. Biffle tried to explain my
circumstance to them.  It was openly clear that they were not too concerned
about that either.

     When the Biffle's approached the professors Levi about their son
coming to stay at the Biffle residence... their response was... `what ever
makes him happy.'  He hung up the pay phone from in town and came back to
the cabin on Loon Lake...irritated at their indifference to their own son.
He told Mrs. Biffle that if it were not for repercussions against Ron...he
would go to the university president and see if he could start proceedings
for their dismissal.  Fortunately, Mrs. Biffle, after kissing his forehead,
assured him that he was made of `sterner stuff,' and would do what is best
to help Ron and Sam and overlook the Levi's coldness.

     I was all too happy to be under the Biffle's roof.  Mrs. Biffle had
arranged for their house keeper to have food on hand when we arrived...and
sat about to set out an assortment of cold cuts, chips, salad and soda.  It
would have seemed mundane any other time...but this afternoon... returning
from a day of travel...the selections seemed like a grand buffet to us.  We
enjoyed reflecting on the summer's pass times and when bedtime rolled
around at 10:30 PM...I was ready.

       Biff knocked on the shower door...and whispered, "Ron...don't use up
all the hot water.  You can dick Sam in bed.  Jin and I want a shower
before turning in too."

      I chuckled, "Right...we'll be out in a couple of seconds."

     Sam turned in the warm water to get the last traces of soap from his
skin and helped me do the same.  We stepped out... onto the floor mat while
Jin pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them.  Biff did the same and
the two of them hustled into the shower which was still warm.  Biff already
had an erection and Jin was not far behind.  As we dried our bodies...and
watched them through the steamy glass... we saw them soap each other up and
rinse off just as the hot water began to wane.  They too, hustled out of
the shower and began to dry themselves and each other.

    "Your parents are going to be annoyed with us for using up all the hot
water," Sam suggested.

    "Naw..." said Biff.  Their bathroom has it's own hot water heater.
They did that a few years ago because I took so many showers during the day
that there was never any hot water.  A second heater solved the problem."

     "Cool," said Sam...who had never heard of two water heaters in one
house.  He told us of their home when his father was alive...how it had a
tank and you had to build a fire under it with wood or coal...and wait for
the water to heat.  He said that he learned to adjust to cold showers.

     I remembered thinking that I had never had to worry about any of
life's luxuries...and now I almost felt ashamed at my parents prosperity in
comparison to Sam's family struggles.

     Sam and I went to the guest room where the bed was already turned back
and the windows opened for fresh air.  Biff and Jin went to their room and
opened windows.  With the lights out...we could hear them talking and then
the bed began to squeak.  It was not difficult to imagine what they were
doing.

     Sam squeezed my hand and then kissed the side of my face.

     "I am so tired, Ron...would you mind if we waited until morning to
have some
 sex play?"

     "Not at all," I replied.  "I too, am really tired...and sleep sounds
good."

     I rolled over on top of him and kissed both sides of his face and then
another point blank to his lips.  He held me close and then kissed me back.
I ran my fingers over his naked body...but he was right.  We were both too
tired for fun and games tonight.  He reached over and squeezed my cock and
said that it was hot.  His speech got slower and slower...I knew he was too
tired to go further.  One last kiss and I slid off the top of him and
snuggled up next to him.  In a matter of seconds...we were both sound a
sleep.


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     In the distance, I could hear crickets chirping.  The sounds of the
night are soothing.  Opening my eyes, and looking at the dark room, I was
momentarily thinking that I was back on Loon Lake Island.  A car drove by
the front of the house and with it the fleeting recollection that we were
back in our University town.  The clock on the table next to the bed showed
6:00 AM.  In a week or so, classes would reconvene.  For now, I was content
to be next to Sam in a comfortable bed and enjoy the fast approaching dawn.

     Sam was lying on his stomach with his left knee pulled up to a
perpendicular position from his torso.  I reached over and laid my hand on
his back.  He had short black hairs on his back...and not many...because
most native American people are not exceptionally hairy.  They had some
resilience when I touched them.  Moving my hand down the center of his
back...I rolled it over the curvature of his butt.  It felt nice to touch.
He giggled and flinched a little much as one does when awakened by an hand
shaking them.  Moving my hand down the inside of his right leg, I paused to
feel the hair on his legs and then backed up slightly to let my fingers
follow the curvature of his scrotum.  Again he sort of chuckled.  With the
tips of my fingers, I moved them over this balls and felt first one than
the other.  They felt good in my hands.

     As he pulled his knee higher, I shifted my hand back to embrace his
penis.  It was hard as a rock with the foreskin pulled back tight against
the perfect shaft.  Scooting out of his way so he could roll over onto his
back, I crawled on top of him and kissed his lips before moving lower to
tease his nipples with my tongue.  He does not like to have his nipples
pressured because they are so sensitive, but after a couple of licks to
each...I moved down his chest, dragging my tongue over what little chest
hair he had.  Even his bush was very sparse of straight black hair.

     Opening my mouth, I went over his erection and slide down on it
leaving a saliva trail.  He tipped his head back and sighed contentedly.  I
moved up to the tip and slid again.  He was beginning to arch his back with
every pass over his beautiful cock.  I had always imagined that native
Americans were not hung very well, but Sam was the exception.  He was long
and thick.  Running my tongue over his shaft and then down around his
scrotum...he shivered with a sensation of excitement.  When I tried to go
lower...he stopped me.  Not until he had showered he said.  I appreciated
his concern for my well being.  Not many would have done so at the point of
excitement.

     He pulled me back to the surface with his strong arms and kissed me,
then putting his arms around me, gave me a tight hug that was so warm and
engaging.  "Wait for me a couple of minutes," he whispered in my ear and
dashed out of bed to the bathroom where I heard him turn on the shower.
When he returned about ten minutes later...he crawled on top of the sheets
on all fours and rested his head on both my pillow and his.  I slid under
him and started from his nipples down to is balls with my tongue.  I edged
him by sucking his cock just enough to make him drip a long shiny strand of
pre-cum before licking it away with my tongue.  I ran my finger nails ever
so gently over his chest and through his bush then on the under side of his
scrotum.  He likes to have his balls teased and I teased away.  Another
long stream of pre-cum oozed from the head of his very stiff penis.
Scooting out from under him, I moved to the end of the bed and ran my
finger
 nails over his back with just enough pressure to leave slight trails on
his skin.  He moaned.  I knew he really liked having his back rubbed.

     Still on his hands and knees, his pucker was flexing with the exciting
stimulation of the handling of his cock and balls.  I touched my tongue to
it...and it flexed.  He moaned as I soaked it with my very wet tongue.
Around and around I went and with just enough pressure to barely press
in...he shook as if startled.  I went around it again and then down the
perineum to his scrotum which was hanging long and low.  With my hand, I
massaged his balls in my hand through his sack.  He moaned.  At one point
he said please do not stop.  There was a wet spot on the sheet where he was
dripping pre-cum profusely.  We should have put a cum catcher underneath to
keep the tracks from showing.

     I moved back to his pucker again and ran my tongue over it.  He moaned
once more.  Pushing his shoulders off the pillow...he raised his shoulders
to the full length of his stretched arms.  He was signaling me without
words that it was time to make my entry.  Grabbing a little lube from the
tube I had previously laid on the bed...I anointed my cock and put it
against his pucker.  He pushed back against me.  My member slid in without
any indication of pain on his part.  I pushed deeper and he moaned again.
Once more he pushed back against me as hard as he could.  I was in all the
way to my pubic hair.  He pulled away from me about six inches and thrust
himself back against me again.  I pushed deeper into him and increased my
speed.  He was moaning just one continuous soft moan of approval.  I thrust
and blasted his butt cheeks.  "Harder," he had commanded.  I increased my
speed for a dozen more thrusts when he began to pant.  His torso was
 sweating profusely.  It was like he was having a muscle spasm all over but
without pain.  It was intense, electrifying, orgasmic pulsations as my
penis pushed deeper.  Each stroke I made, pushed my penis against his
prostate.  It was intensifying to the extent that just as I shot my load
into his canal...he shot his all over the sheet beneath him...ejaculation
after ejaculation.  He claimed there were eight shots but the sheet
suggested more.  He collapsed onto the sheet spreading the ejaculate all
over his torso.

     "Oh my gosh," he said.  "That felt so good, that it was almost
painful."

     He rolled over and kissed my face.  "I never dreamed that you would or
could do that for me.  Gosh I love you, Ron."

     He kissed me once more and then rolled me over onto the dry side of
the bed and laid upon me and held me tight.  It took a few minutes for our
hearts to slow their beating to normal.  When they did, he giggled.

     "Now we have a mess to clean up," he whispered.  "How are we going to
do so without calling excess attention to it?"

     "I don't know," I responded, "but we will figure something out."


      We both got into the shower together and helped each other wash up.
It was a quick shower so not to use too much water.  We had just stepped
out when we heard a light knock at the bedroom door.  I slipped into my
bath robe and Sam put on a pair of jeans quickly and opened the door.
There stood Biff with a big grin on his face.

     "Mom and Dad just left to have breakfast with the professors Levi.  Do
you need your sheets washed?  I am taking ours down to the laundry to
process them before they return," Biff had said with a sheepish grin.
"Good thing they sleep downstairs or they would have heard the show you put
on upstairs.  You got Jin and I so hot...we had to follow your example."

     We hurriedly stripped the bed of sheets and Biff took them downstairs
to the laundry.  Jin came into the room...naked as a jay bird.  It was
obvious he had enjoyed a good rimming and poking.  He was still leaking a
little post cum.  He did not say anything...just grinned and returned to
the other bedroom.

     "Sam," I wonder if they would like to do a four way sometime," I
thought out loud?

     "Not a good idea, Ron," he responded.  "That can create a rift in
friendships.  I like them both...but neither attract me sexually."

     I nodded my head.  Good advise from a man far wiser than his age.  We
hurriedly ate breakfast and put our respective rooms back together before
going out to start the day.

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     "Professors," said Dr. Biffle holding up his hands in front of him,
"We are mature adults.  We can discuss these matters in rational and calm
manners.  I have known you both for years.  My discussion with you is to
suggest a way that we can resolve everyone's best interest without raising
any ire."

     "Look Biffle," said Professor Levi.  "We have not neglected our son."

     "Please, I did not suggest that you had," Dr. Biffle proceeded.  "I am
suggesting that you have a lot of work ahead of you and not much time at
home.  Ron would like to come stay with us until you have accomplished your
task...that is all."

     "Has he indicated anything to you about feeling neglected or abused,"
Mrs. Levi asked?

     "Nothing at all," said Dr. Biffle.  " He loves you both very
much...but you will be returning to Europe in a few weeks and will be there
for a year working on continued Sabbatical research.  Ron could stay with
us while you are gone...and we could look after your house.  He just needs
a base."

     The red in Professor Levi's face was draining.  He misunderstood the
motive for Dr. Biffle and Mrs. Biffle calling on them.

     "We had such a lovely time with him this summer," said Mrs. Biffle.
He blended in with us very well and since you both will be working
frantically to finish your doctorate degrees...why not give yourself some
security knowing that he is provided for and looked after while you are
away."

     "I can provide for him," said Professor Levi.

     "Dear," said Mrs. Levi.  "That is not what they mean.  Of course we
can support him financially...but it would be nice to know that he is
functioning in a family setting that meets his needs and gives him an
anchor while we are away."


       "Look, if you will permit me to suggest...why not talk to him over
dinner tonight or tomorrow...and ask what he wants to do.  He will not love
you any less if you allow him to make his own decision over this matter.
It seems like he has done so for some time," Dr. Biffle offered.

     "You're right," said Mrs. Levi.  "We'll take him to dinner this
evening and discuss what he wants to do."

     Dr. Biffle added, "He has brought a friend back with him...  from
Maine?"

     "He wrote saying that he wanted to do so and why," said Professor
Levi.

     Mrs. Levi spoke up.  "We have known his persuasion for a long time."


     "He never had any interest in dating or in girls other than platonic.
We both agree that this is a choice that only he can make," Professor Levi
added.

     "So do you want us to send him over or to call?  What do you want us
to do to help in this matter," Mrs. Biffle asked?

     "Have him call us," Mrs. Levi said...  " Oh, and if you would...let
him know that he is welcome to bring his friend from Maine with him.  We
promise not to embarrass either of them."

     Mrs. Biffle shook hands with Mrs. Levi.  Their husbands just nodded to
each other as they walked out the door.  At least they had been able to
dispel any acute animosity...and hopefully they would all profit from the
process.

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     Ron and Sam arrived at the Levi house at 7:00 PM, dressed in casual
attire, fit for dinning out.  The professors Levi greeted them at the
door...hugged Ron and shook hands with Sam.  As they conversed in the
living room before leaving for dinner...they realized that Sam for his
native American blood was no dummy.  His use of the English language was
equal to their academic level.  The long black hair tied back with a black
short ribbon was not troubling to them.  His face was handsome.  His dark
eyes and dark hair were in fact rather attractive.  It was obvious that
there was a blend in his genetic make up that was neither white nor totally
native American.  Although they did not know exactly what to expect, they
were not distressed with what they saw.

      At dinner, they discussed Maine and Sam's ancestry...to the extent he
was willing to share.  They also discussed the Levi ancestry having
originated first in the area now called Jerusalem and that they had
migrated to Europe. In the 1930's their families had removed to America.

     "So you are agreeable to staying with the Biffle's while we are in
Europe," Professor Levi asked his son..?

     "I am sir," Ron replied.

     "And you no longer want to go with us," his father continued?


      "I would like very much to go with you," I replied to my father, "but
lets face it... I would be in the way of your research.  It would be better
for me to stay here and finish my last year of high school and then to go
on to college.  Sam is here to keep me out of any trouble...and Dr. &
Mrs. Biffle could do the same.  A year may be insufficient time for the
task ahead of you...and since my college fees are covered under your tenure
at the university...I can go ahead and start to college and the two of you
can finish your doctatorial work before coming home to submit your papers."

     "Upon my word," said my mother.  "You certainly do have a grasp of the
whole thing."

     "I do, mother," I said.  " If I take the initiative to finish my
work...it will free you and father to finish yours.  It seems to me that it
would be a win-win situation for all of us."

     "And you do not mind lodging with the Biffle's for a year.  It will
not be like being in your own home you know," my father added.

     "Forgive me," I said.  " It will not be like being in your home for a
year."

     My parents eyebrows went up...but they showed no sign of anger.

     "And this is what you want." asked my father..?

     "It is sir," I replied.

     Taking the last swig of his glass of wine and signaling the waiter for
another, he looked at my mother who nodded to him.

     "Then so be it," he said.  "I will speak with the Biffle's tomorrow
and arrange for your expenses to be mailed to me...and an account be
established for them to access for your needs and wants."

     With that, the mood lifted.  We four dinned together and afterwards,
my parents dropped us back at the Biffle house.  I half expected them to
suggest that we stay tonight or at least for me to stay tonight in their
house, but they did not.  I learned from Dr. Biffle the next day, that my
father was true to his word and did set up an account for them and myself
to access for my needs and wants.

     Sam and I saw them off at O'hare International Airport two weeks
later.  They had sublet their house to another young professor and his
family.  Sam and I had gone over before they had taken possession and
removed all of my things.  Dr. and Mrs. Biffle had cleared an area in their
basement for my possessions.  After getting moved into their house, it was
as if I had always been there...and I became a contented member of their
family.  They had gone from being the parent of one son, Brian... to the
parents of four boys...Brian, Jin, Sam and myself.  I had never been so
happy in all my life.

     My parents left their address where they would be lodging, first in
Rome and then in Paris...but after a few letters of small talk about where
they were at and what their research consisted of...the letters dwindled to
one about every six weeks and then one every ten weeks...and then stopped.
I was concerned of course...but it did not keep me awake at night.

· - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     Christmas season began shortly after Thanksgiving.  Illinois can
sometimes have big snows.  Biff's father talked about having Thanksgiving
at his grandparents home in Shelby County.  He said they lived on a farm
ten miles to the south of the county seat and raised Christmas trees.
Their farm house sat way back off the gravel county road...and the family
had to ford a branch to get to it.  He would expound about a song he
learned when a boy that went something like, "Over the river and through
the woods, to grandparents house we go...the horse knows the way, to pull
the sleigh, through the wild and drifting snow."  He was not a very good
singer...but I got the idea.  Family and friends meant a lot to him.

     Sam was well pleased with his position with the university maintenance
department.  His job in the summer was landscaping and lawn maintenance and
in the winter...he became part of the painting staff.  It turned out to be
a good match for him...and the income far superseded what he was making as
a fishing guide.  He sent most of it home to his mother who wrote that his
assistance had greatly increased their comfort level in Maine.  His younger
brothers and sister were able to go to school and not in the most meager
conditions.  He told us though that as a native American...their outlook on
Thanksgiving was a little different than traditional America.  He said that
they ate fish and wild turkey and seasonal vegetables.  Pumpkins and squash
were eaten as a vegetable and not as a desert.

     Now that the Christmas season was upon us...life seemed to speed up.
The university would close for two weeks starting with the end of the
semester on December 19th and would reconvene on January 3rd.  Instructors
and staff were all given the same time off to spend with family and
friends.

     I wondered if Sam would want to go to Maine for Christmas, but he had
no inclination to do so.

     "No...I will stay here with you," he had said one morning before we
climbed out of bed.  "Ephraim...You are too important to me to let you
spend the holiday alone."

     It was amusing and cute, how he called me Ron on casual discussions
but when it was serious to him...he used my middle name which sounded more
important perhaps to him.

     "How do you spend the holiday season," he asked me.  "You are of
Jewish ancestry.  Do you celebrate Hanukkah or Christmas?"

     "Neither," I said, "And both."

     He raised his eyebrows in quandary.

     "My parents celebrated neither.  Perhaps they thought their vast
knowledge was superior to religiosity...but deep down inside of me...after
reading a myriad of books on religions and history...I came to have some
feeling towards Christianity although I have not joined any particular
church.  I have attended Cathedral Mass with friends, synagogue with
friends...and I have a friend whose father is a Mormon bishop.  They are
really super nice people."

     "Did they sick their missionaries on you," Sam asked..?

      I recoiled at his attitude.

     "I did meet some of their missionaries...and you know...they were
always very kind and respectful to me," I snapped back.

     "Ron, I did not mean to offend," Sam stammered.

     "I know," I responded.  "I have read their literature...but I am
gay...and that keeps me from joining any church.  Sam...I have read a lot
about the subject of religion...perhaps more than most because of my Jewish
ancestry...and I will tell you that there is more misunderstanding, more
unchristian attitudes, more hatred and wars and more prideful hearts over
that subject than any other you will ever discuss.  If a person is going to
call themselves religious...the first thing they need to do is get rid of
the attitude...and the mean spirited pride."

     "My people believed in the Great Spirit...but our ancestors knew very
little about him.  I too have read various doctrines on the subject...and I
will agree with you that pride and a mean spirit are the opposites of
people of true faith."

     Sam chuckled.  "You know, we could talk about this until spring and
not resolve anything.

     "Yes, I know," I said.

      "Sam, I am gay...and I know how the nation feels about that.  I am
being honest when I say, I am... who I am.  I can't remember a time when I
didn't feel the way that I feel.

      "I've always felt that I was born gay.  I have tried to think
heterosexual and I have tried to act heterosexual and even considered
trying to function with a person of the opposite sex...but that is not me.
I know how I feel and I feel happiest when I am with you."

     Sam pulled me over from my side of the bed to resting on top of him on
his side of the bed.  He held me tight.  I could hear him breathing and
feel the beating of his heart through my finger tips on his chest.  Like so
many before me... I knew how I felt...and I had what I wanted in my arms.

     "Boys...come down stairs...supper is ready," called Mrs. Biffle.  Sam
kissed me on my forehead and then on the lips.

     "I love you Ron Ephraim Levi," he said and hugged me tight.  "We need
to go down stairs...other wise... I will be strongly tempted to pull all
your clothing off and show you how much I love you.

     "Ahhh," I said... "Desert for later tonight."

     He laughed and took my hand and lead me to the stairs.  He released my
hand half way down even though Dr. and Mrs. Biffle knew the score between
all of us.

     "What's for supper dear," professor Biffle asked Mrs. Biffle.

     "Meatloaf," she said, "with all the trimmings and warm pumpkin pie and
vanilla ice cream for dessert."

     Sam looked at me and raised his eye brows.

    "What," said Biff?

     "My favorite," said Sam.  "Mrs. Biffle's cooking makes me think of
home."

     "What a nice thing to say, Sam," Mrs. Biffle said.

     "I say it because it is true," he replied.

     Professor Biffle said grace before we ate...and then all of us dived
in.  I don't know when I had been so contented.  Sam was holding my hand
part time under the table.  The rest of those sitting around the table
enjoyed each other's company and conversation.

     "After supper, boys," Dr. Biffle said.  "We have our Christmas tree to
set up and decorate.  It is in the garage and I have been watering it for a
few days...so it is ready to be moved into the house."

     The expression on my face must have given me away because Mrs. Biffle
looked at me and asked: "Is something wrong dear?"

     "No ma'am," I replied.  "My parents always had a little wiry
artificial tree on the coffee table and every year at Christmas there would
be a check laid under it for me.  We had a menorah and lit the candles for
Hanukkah but as time went on...they became too busy to even bother with
that.  It will be a treat to me to decorate for Christmas and be part of
the celebration."

     "We could decorate for Hanukkah too," said Dr. Biffle?

     "Not necessary, sir," I replied.  " I have waited a long time to be
part of a family Christmas holiday."

     Biff looked over at me.  "Ron...we are glad to have you here with us
and for you and Sam to be officially part of our family."

     "Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Biffle.

     The warm pumpkin pie was fantastic as was the vanilla ice cream on
top.  Despite good manners, we all ate a second slice.

     "It will never be as good as it is...warm out of the oven," said
Mrs. Biffle as she refilled our plates."

     The rest of the conversation became a buzz of happy sounds.

      It took all four of us boys to lift the huge aromatic tree through
the house to the living room and reinstall it into a large Ceramic Pot and
drip pan.  We then set about wedging assorted rocks into the pot to keep
the tree in a stable and upright position.  Once secure, we put water into
the pot to keep the tree nice and green.  It would require additional water
everyday to keep it at the proper level...and to keep the tree verdant.  It
took nearly and hour for the six of us to decorate it.  The ceilings in the
Biffle house were nine feet tall and the tree almost touched the top.
Dr. Biffle would not reveal how much he had paid for it...but he did say
that he went to a Christmas tree farm and cut it himself.  The owners tied
it to the luggage rack on top of the car and he made it home safely with an
overhang both on the front and the back of his car.

     Christmas eve was five days away.  We hoped the tree would remain in
good shape until then.  Mrs. Biffle told of a time when Biff was a little
boy that they had purchased a painted tree and the needles had all fallen
off by Christmas.

    "Brian cried so much at the poor trees condition...that when he went to
bed on Christmas eve, his father went out and bought another tree...this
time unflocked...and set it up.  When Brian got up on Christmas
morning...he found the new tree and was sure that Santa had been listening
to his prayers," Mrs. Biffle revealed.

     We all chuckled...but I thought it was nice that his parents cared so
much for his feelings that they would do this for him.

    "When I was a child," Sam shared... "My father would go to the woods
and cut a red cedar tree.  They were thick and over crowded so removing one
was not a great loss to the forest.  We did not decorate like the people
from the cities do.  We had pine cones and seed pods from different plants,
feathers and a few wooden toys that my father had carved for previous
Christmases."

     "It sounds lovely, dear," said Mrs. Biffle.  "I am sure your father
would be very proud of you if he were here today."

      "I agree," said Dr. Biffle.

      "Thank you," Sam replied...but made no further comments.

     "Hot chocolate," said Mrs. Biffle as she hurried off to the kitchen.


      "Ron...how about some music," said Dr. Biffle as he raised the lid of
the Kimball spinet piano.

      "Yes sir," I said as I sat down to the spinet and began to play a
host of Christmas music...all from memory.

     "Amazing," said Jin... "He is Jewish and yet he knows all the
Christmas music."

     Sam was becoming fidgety... "Religion has nothing to do with
it...music is music."  He got up and went over to the piano and stood
behind me with his hands on my shoulder.  I felt pure love flow from him
into me.

     "Jin did not mean anything by his remark, you know," I whispered to
Sam.

     Sam removed his hands and went over and sat down on the floor next to
Jin.

     "I did not mean to snap at you Jin...but he is so knowledgeable about
music that if he hears a piece or plays it...he has it forever in his
mind."

     Jin leaned closer toward him...and whispered back.  "I didn't mean to
upset you Sam.  He is wonderful at the key board.  You are so lucky to have
him as your...friend."

     "Thank you," Sam replied.  " I'm sorry I snapped at you.  It was wrong
for me to do so."

      "That's OK," he answered back.

     "Hot chocolate for all of you, dears," Mrs. Biffle said as she passed
around mugs of very hot chocolate...made from scratch.

     I stopped playing the piano and came over and sat down on the floor
next to Sam...and sipped my chocolate.  He scooted closer behind me and
with one hand on my shoulder...held the mug in the other hand and sipped.
It was very good.  Mrs. Biffle's hot chocolate was only superseded by her
warm pumpkin pie.

     The Christmas tree was beautiful.  I stared at it and then looked at
the others sitting close to me.  What a wonderful Christmas this was going
to be.
      I snapped off the bedroom light and stretched from head to toe in the
bed as I lie on my back with my hands above my head.  The bedroom was
cooler than down stairs because we had left the door shut.  I had stepped
out of the shower and was waiting for Sam to finish his shower.  He dried
himself with a fluffy towel and then came into the bedroom, walking naked
to the edge of the bed and scooted in next to me.  He leaned his head next
to me for a few seconds and then kissed my cheek.  I chuckled softly as he
put his hand against the side of my face and felt the rough stubble of what
would have been a five o'clock shadow had I not shaved before showering.
His hand was rough and warm...and I am sure my face felt like sandpaper.
He could not grow a beard.  He smelled like that masculine soap with the
green flakes in it.  It was like a cross between evergreen and very clean.

     "I love you Ron," he whispered to me.

      I turned to face him on my right side and put my hand against his
cheek.

     "I love you too, Sam.  Thanks for all the nice things you said to me
and about me this evening."

     "Can't help myself...you mean everything to me," he said.  "I believe
I promised you desert later this evening."

     I lightly laughed, "yes, I believe you did."