This
story
concerns adult and teenage gay
males who may be involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for
you to
read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please
leave
now.
This
story is
copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.
This
is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
This is my
third submission to Nifty. My
previous submissions can be found in the High School section under
Kiel’s Story. Any comments or questions are
welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net.
A warm
thank you goes out to all who
write. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff,
whether you
like it or not. I try to answer all emails, even flames. (I’m a writer,
I live
for rejection.) Although sometimes it takes a little time to get back
to
you, I do
try to answer. If I'm remiss in replying to yours, I apologize.
The Pastel Cowboy
by Carl Holiday
Chapter
2 – Does This Mean I’m Gay?
When Zach came back
from the
cafeteria Sunday morning with a growing bubble of gas in his stomach,
he knew
Nopaco’s definition of edible food was not the same as his. He was
either going
to have to find a new place to eat, or start buying groceries and eat
them in
his room. When he came to the little rhododendron grove outside Boyle
Hall he
knew he wasn’t going to make it up to his room. He stepped inside the
shady
glade and immediately noticed quite a few lumpy puddles of puke, the
odor of
which was more than enough to entice whatever it was that his stomach
didn’t
like to make a hasty retreat. He thought it was nice the college
planted the big,
leafy rhododendrons just so students could vomit the college’s vile
dietary
offerings.
Back in his room,
after
rinsing out the disgusting taste of partially digested greasy bacon and
whatever the watery yellow stuff that was supposed to be eggs from his
mouth,
Zach fired up the laptop and headed for Google. He typed in “gay teen
advice”
and clicked the first offering. There was a lot of information, but not
a lot
about what he wanted to know. After spending a couple hours bouncing
around the
links, he finally decided being gay was just another facet of his
personality,
a major facet, one that a lot of people would start to notice. He’d
just have
to learn to live with it, but he still wanted to know why Bruce had to
be René
and why Steven had to be a little kid. He knew, though, that the true
answers
were going to have to come from Bruce and Steven. It seemed to be their
choice
to be those strange characters.
Then he looked at
the URL
Paul gave him and typed in, www.nifty.org. He headed for the High
School
section first and opened the first story. After counting ten
misspellings in
the first three sentences, he closed that one and opened the next
story. Three
hours later, while listening to an old Asleep at the Wheel CD, his cell
phone
rang. His cock was hard and demanding attention, again, but his phone
was
ringing. Choices! Then, again, it might be Steven.
“Hello?”
“Is this Zachary
Alexander?”
Zach heard a tinge of Texas in the voice and hoped to god it was the
Steven from
the corner.
“Yeah.”
“This is Steven
O’Brien.
David Brandon, who I believe is your uncle, hired me to show you around
town.
Do you have any wheels?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose it would
be better
for you to come and pick me up, than for me to come to you. Do you know
Seattle at all?”
“Never been here
before. Can
I ask you a question?”
“Sure, kiddo, what?”
“Yesterday
afternoon while I
was waiting for my uncle’s boyfriend to pick me up, I met a guy named
Steven
out front of Boyle Hall.”
“Ohmigod! You’re
the cowboy?
With the . . .”
“Big dick, yeah.”
“Ohmigod! You’re
the cowboy!”
“Can I ask you
another
question?”
“Sure, kiddo, what
do you
want to know?”
“Is there something
physically wrong with you or are you forcing yourself to look thirteen?”
“Wow! You certainly
aren’t
subtle, are you?”
“I just don’t
understand,
that’s all.”
“Understand what?”
“This queer shit. I
mean when
I was back home it was easy. I was the only one and everyone hated me.
Now, up
here it’s so confusing. First it’s René, then you, then Paul,
then Uncle David,
and then in the restaurant last night I go into the john and some
fuckin’ gray
haired pervert shows me his cock and asks me if I’d like to suck it.”
“Sounds like you
need a lot
more than a tour of the city.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t
mean to
be like this, but I’m so fuckin’ confused. I mean last summer after the
shit
hit the fan and . . .” And, Zach told Steven all about being
ostracized
in
Carruthers.
Less than an hour
later, Zach
left the interstate at Boylston and headed down the hill toward the
Ship Canal,
following Steven’s directions. Steven was waiting for him at the garage
entrance and directed him to an empty stall.
“It’s supposed to
be mine,
but I don’t drive,” Steven said. He was wearing red and green plaid
pajama
bottoms and a George Straight t-shirt that was too big for his tiny
frame. “I
never learned how.”
“Hi,” Zach said. He
was
nervous. Steven asked him to come down to his apartment so they could
talk. He
was scared to death something more was going to happen, not that he
didn’t,
deep down, want that to occur. He was just scared he’d fuck it up
somehow.
“Ohmigod! The great
big
quarterback cowboy is scared of little ol’ Steven? Come on kiddo, let’s
go have
fun.”
Zach just about
crapped his
pants. Fun? What did Steven have in mind for fun? But, he followed the
little
boy butt through the parking garage to the elevator.
“You know I was
thinking,”
Steven said as the numbers above the elevator flashed their way down to
the
garage level. “David was rather insistent I was only supposed to escort
you
around town. I think he said something like show you the highlights and
let you
dig deeper if you wanted. Now, I know he knows my policy on extras. If
you
don’t pay, you don’t get. Now, I’ll do extra if I’m expecting a big
tip, but I
usually don’t lay on the best stuff until I kind of get an idea what
your level
of remuneration is.”
“What are you
talking about?”
Zach asked.
“Sex, my dear
virgin.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, don’t worry,
it’s all so
easy once you get the hang of it. We’ll go slow. After all, David is
paying for
a month’s worth of services. A whole month. Can you imagine how much
that is?”
“No, I don’t have
any idea
what you charge.”
The elevator door
opened and
a young woman with a tiny waist and oversized breasts got off.
“Oh, hi, Steven,
new friend?”
“Hi, Charlene, no
just
business.”
“He’s kind of cute.
Does he
have a name? Does it talk?”
“I’m Zach.”
“You’re from the
South, too!”
“Oklahoma.”
“That’s still
South.”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“See you ’round
Steven! Oh,
and Zach? Make sure he uses a condom. You don’t want to know where that
thing
of his has been.”
“Fuck off,
Charlene! Come on,
Zach, don’t worry about her.”
Zach knew about
condoms. They
were not condoned by his church. They prevented babies. They encouraged
illicit, pleasurable sex, when sex was given by God for procreation,
not
enjoyment. They weren’t even mentioned in all his health ed classes at
school.
The school board made sure of that. Condoms were not worn by true
Christians.
Then this morning
he learned
a lot more about condoms, a lot more. He learned they had another
purpose, a
more important purpose. Yeah, Steven was definitely going to use a
condom and
so was he, if it came to that.
They got off on the
fifth
floor and walked down a dimly lit carpeted hallway. At Apartment C
Steven put a
key in both deadbolts and a key in the doorknob. The door opened to a
small
living room with a futon, a low table, a small television on a smaller
low
table, and a view across the Ship Canal toward houses. On the distant
horizon,
tall mountains, a few of which still had snow on them, stood against
the blue
sky. What stuck Zach the most was the lack of carpeting. The floor was
white vinyl
tile. The whole apartment was tiled.
“Do you want
something to
drink first, or do you want to just start fucking?”
Zach’s face dropped.
“Just kidding. Come
on, Zach,
cool down a bit. Come here, let’s sit down for a bit. Come on, sit on
the
futon. Coke or water? Don’t have anything else.”
Steven walked over
to the
refrigerator and opened it. “Oops! Sorry, no Coke. Guess I’d better get
to the
market. The pantry’s bare.”
Zach looked around
the
apartment. There wasn’t any other furniture. An open door led to the
bathroom.
Two others were closed. There was a painting, though, on the wall above
the
fireplace. Two young men were having sex. Well, it appeared they were
doing
some sort of sexual activity, but there weren’t any dicks. Zach knew
the dicks
were there and were being used, but he had no idea what they were being
used
for.
“Like the painting?”
“Yeah, it’s
distracting.”
“Paul did it. He
gave it to
me. He said I’d probably get five thousand for it, more if he died. I
doubt
that, though. He has a fairly restricted niche.”
“Paul paints that
stuff”
“Yeah, he’s good,
real good.
I wish I could be half as good.”
Zach didn’t say
anything. He
knew now was not the time to say what Paul told him about Steven’s
painting
skills.
“Nervous?”
“Fuck yes.”
“No, we’re not
going to fuck.
That doesn’t come until lesson four, or was it five? It doesn’t matter
because
if you don’t want me to fuck you, we don’t have to. But, I’ll tell you
right
now, if you want to fuck me, I’ll slip a condom over that big dick of
yours and
slip my ass right down on top of you.”
Zach look at
Steven, then
looked away.
“Come on, Zach,
calm down.
Ohmigod! You’re crying. Fuck!”
Steven snuggled up
beside
Zach and put a hand on the cowboy’s tight abdomen and gently rubbed his
fingers
across the rippled muscles. “Come on, Zach, it’s okay. I’m just
excited, too
excited, really. Do you know how much any one of my clients would pay
to be
here right now where I am? Thousands! You’re a virgin!”
“Chicken.”
“Yeah, chicken,
too, but
mostly virgin. You seem a little naïve to know about chicken.”
“I was reading an
online
story when you called,” Zach said, thinking about the high school kid
whose
life was the total shits until he was discovered by a more popular
student. It
certainly didn’t apply to his life. He was the most popular student and
that
didn’t help him one bit.
“How many times did
you
come?”
“Three, if you
hadn’t called,
probably another one was on the way.”
“Then you’re gay.”
“Well, at least
when I read
the stories I get hard.” Zach wondered if that’s all it meant to be
gay,
getting hard when your mind was filled with gay thoughts. Hell, he got
hard
looking at a horse’s ass, but then he was a cowboy and appreciated good
horse
flesh. Maybe he was just young.
“You’re hard now.”
“The painting.”
“Not me?”
“Yeah, you, too.”
There he
admitted it. Being close to Steven made him hard. Having Steven touch
him the
way was doing right then was making him hard.
“Thanks. You know,
you have
muscles in all the right places.”
“Thanks.”
“Just relax, this
isn’t going
to hurt a bit.”
Steven got up on
his knees
and then straddled Zach, sitting down, pressing his small ass into
Zach’s
crotch. His face sank slowly toward Zach, as his hands and fingers
caressed the
cowboy’s chest, arms, neck, face, and head, placing his lips against
the boy’s.
Zach opened his mouth slightly and felt Steven’s tongue tentatively
explore the
inner edges of his lips.
Zach’s own hands,
still at
his sides gradually reached out to where his fingers could lightly
touch
Steven’s legs. They were so skinny he could almost grasp a thigh in one
hand.
Steven’s tongue was inviting his to join it back in its home. He
accepted the
invitation and felt Steven’s bony ass press against his cock.
He couldn’t help
himself. The
feelings were so intense. He grabbed the tiny hips on top of him and
pressed
the skinny body against his cock. He shuddered as the orgasm took over,
flooding his pants with come. He kept going and going. It was like he
couldn’t
stop shooting. He ran his hands up Steven’s back and pulled the smaller
body
into his, then broke their kiss.
“Ohmigod! You came!
That’ll
be a hundred bucks, kiddo. No, just kidding. Uncle David is paying for
this.
Wait right there, I’ll get something to clean you up.”
Zach watched
Steven’s little
butt scamper into the bathroom. The sound of running water did little
to
comfort him. He knew Steven was going pull his pants down and touch him
down
there. This was getting out of hand, but he didn’t know what he could
do to
stop it, or if he even wanted to stop it. He was so overwhelmed.
Zach stared at the
ceiling
while Steven removed his jeans and underwear. Tears were uncontrollably
dribbling down his cheeks as the warm washcloth rubbed against his
skin. He
never imagined it would be like this. All the times he’d made out with
Amy back
before he’d been branded as gay, he’d never come; and, she’d done
exactly what
Steven had. She’d sat on his hard cock many times, but he’d never come,
never.
He was queer, no doubt about it.
“Your
tightee-whitees need to
be washed,” Steven said as he walked away with them.
In a moment he was
back,
naked. Zach looked at Steven’s skinny body then removed his own shirt
and
helped Steven lower the futon. He didn’t know what he was supposed to
do.
“Come on cowboy,
lie down
beside little Steven and I’ll cover us with the blanket. Are you still
crying?”
“I can’t help it. I
don’t
know what to do.”
“You don’t have to
do
anything. I’m the one who’s been hired to do things. Come on Zachy, lie
down
beside me.”
“Don’t call me
Zachy. If you
want to get cute, use my middle name, David.”
“Davey?”
“Stevie?”
“Davey, I like
that. Comfy?”
“A little.”
“You’re a good
kisser.”
“Thanks.”
“Here let me have
your hand.
Put it right there.”
Zach felt Steven’s
soft cock.
He’d never touch another boy down there. His fingers seemed to have a
mind of
their own as they began to explore the soft, hairless skin in Steven’s
crotch.
There was only a small powder puff of hair above his dick. Zach’s
fingers began
to play with the foreskin, like he often did with his own. He felt the
cock
stiffen.
“You certainly know
how to
make a guy feel good,” Steven whispered as one of his fingers began to
play
with Zach’s right nipple, stiffening it quickly.
Zach felt himself
getting
hard again when another of Steven’s fingers joined its companion at
Zach’s
erect nipple. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling. It was almost
like there
was a nerve connection between the nipple and his dick. He looked into
Steven’s
soft blue eyes.
“Didn’t know about
these, did
you?” Steven whispered.
“No.”
“Most guys don’t.
Lay back
and I’ll suck it.”
Zach placed his
hand on the
back of Steven’s head as the other’s lips and tongue began to excite
and, at
the same time, relax him. He wondered if this was what a mother felt
when her
baby suckled at her breast.
“Hey, kiddo, you
fell
asleep,” Steven said, nudging Zach back to reality.
“Huh, oh, sorry,”
Zach
mumbled. He thought of the dream he’d been having. A little dream,
meaningless
mostly, except for the dick in his mouth. It was Steven’s dick.
“Want to go to the
zoo?”
“Where?”
“The zoo, come on
let’s get
dressed. Your tightee-whitees should be dry by now.”
Zach sat up and
looked at
Steven’s soft cock nestling under that small puff of golden hair. He
wondered
if he’d ever be able to put that thing in his mouth, but it really
wasn’t the
putting in the mouth that troubled him, it was the surprise at the end.
Swallowing come would definitely make him gay. Could he do it?
“Come on, Davey,
let’s go to
the zoo,” Steven said, rolling away from Zach and getting to his feet.
“Did you come,
too?” Zach
asked. He got to his feet and walked over to the dryer. He came up
behind
Steven and pulled the small body into a hug. “Did you?”
“Don’t bother
yourself with
me, I’m the one being paid in this deal,” Steven said, pulling out of
Zach’s
embrace. “Here put these on. You know we should go to the store and get
you
some boxers and boxer briefs. You need them if you’re going to wear
those tight
jeans all the time.”
“Why?”
“No panty lines,”
Steven
said, patting Zach’s right cheek a couple times before resting his hand
on the
taut muscle allowing his fingers to sink into the divide.
“That’s bad?” Zach
pulled
away from Steven’s hand because it was making him stiffen a little. It
made him
imagine lying under Steven being fucked, one more step on defining him
as being
definitely gay. Yeah, taking it up the ass would be a definite sign he
was gay.
“Just distracting,
a smooth
ass is an exciting ass,” Steven said, grabbing Zach’s ass. “It invites
attention.”
“Do I want
attention?”
“You’re the one who
was
advertising the dick yesterday.”
“Okay, you win,”
Zach said.
He reached out and took hold of Steven’s half-hard cock. Steven slapped
his
hand away. “I’ll get rid of the Jacques C’penés.”
“Don’t knock
Jacques, we’ll
probably go there.”
“Or, Sears?” Zach
asked,
taking hold of Steven’s shoulders and pulling the small body against
his. He
nuzzled Steven’s neck, smelling the scent of his body.
“No, not Sears, not
Nordstroms either, they’re too straight for me,” Steven said, reaching
around
Zach to caress those two muscular melons. Then, suddenly, pushing the
boy away
from him. “You know, you’re distracting. Macys is good.”
“I wouldn’t know.
We only had
Jacques and Sears in Hannaford. You had to go miles to get anything
fancy and
you don’t need fancy clothes to fall in cow shit. Should I go commando?”
“With that thing of
yours? It
needs control.”
“Then why get
boxers?”
“Because some
clients want
their boys in boxers.”
“Clients?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you
thinking?”
“How we can make a
lot of
money.”
“With me having sex
with your
clients? I’m still practically a virgin.”
“Oh, quit worrying,
Davey,
and you’re still a virgin. Now, put these on and get dressed. We’re
going to
the zoo.”
Zach was surprised
at the way
Steven practically bubbled with excitement at nearly every exhibit. He
was,
also, surprised how much it cost to get in, plus having to pay for
parking, but
he had a good time, too. Mostly, though, he kept getting these strange
warm
feelings every time Steven got close to him, or called him “Davey.”
It was quite a
jaunt through
the whole zoo and Zach wasn’t too certain they’d seen all the exhibits.
They’d
be standing someplace and he’d look not recognizing half the other
exhibits.
The paths seemed to meander almost senselessly across the grounds. He
did like
the farm animals, though. Steven kidded him when he put out his hand
and
scratched the cow’s nose.
“You’ll make her
shit doing
that,” Steven said.
“No I won’t,” Zach
replied.
“This makes them pee.”
And, surprisingly,
the cow
got that contented look as a stream of piss exited the back end.
“See, I know my
cows,” Zach
said patting the cows head.
“And, you sent them
to
slaughter, too,” Steven said, disgust dripping from his voice.
“Not the cows, we
kept them.
They made the babies. It was the babies who didn’t have a chance. They
were the
ones headed for the supermarket.”
Afterwards, Zach
stopped at a
restaurant down on the Ship Canal that looked interesting. From their
table at
the window, which Zach got by having to give the maitre d’ a fifty, he
could
see Steven’s apartment building. He thought of what had happened a few
hours
earlier and smiled when he remember how he felt with Steven sucking on
his
nipple.
“What are you
thinking of?”
Steven asked as he looked at the menu.
“You.”
“Oh, is that good?”
“Yeah, I suppose
you’re good.
You took me to the zoo. You did exactly what Uncle David hired you for.”
“Would either of
you
gentlemen care for a cocktail?” The bar waitress asked. She was dressed
in one
of those skimpy, tight black dresses that emphasized her little breasts
and
hips that were built for baby making.
“I’ll have soda
water with
some lime,” Steven said.
“Coke,” Zach said.
“We have Pepsi.”
“I guess I’ll have
soda water
with lime, too,” Zach said.
“Didn’t want to try
something
harder?” Steven asked.
“She’d have carded
me,” Zach
said. “She looks the type.”
They ordered their
meals and
settled down to relaxing after their vigorous walk through the zoo.
Zach was
still trying to get used to being in a big city with houses everywhere
he
looked, plus tall buildings, yachts passing in the Ship Canal, and
people,
people everywhere. This was not Carruthers where you could go into town
on some
days and not see more than ten people. Wherever he looked there was
something
new and different. It was almost overwhelming, almost as overwhelming
as being
with the young man sitting across from him.
Just after
finishing his
meal, Steven excused himself and went into the restroom. Zach watched
him go
and kept his eyes directed to where Steven left the dining room. When
he caught
sight of his friend returning, he thought he figured something out
about
Steven. It troubled him to think such thoughts about someone, but he
knew he
had to confront Steven if they were going to become friends and Zach
was, at
that moment, very interested in becoming a very good friend of Steven.
When they arrived
back at
Steven’s apartment building, Zach drove around back and entered the
parking
garage. After turning off the engine, he turned to Steven, who looked
back like
he been caught stealing candy at the corner market.
“What?”
“Are you bulimic or
anorexic?”
Steven turned his
head and
stared out the windshield.
“There was a girl
who used to
live in Carruthers who was skinny, skinny like you,” Zach said. “She’d
stuff
herself like you did at dinner. Then she’d go to the restroom and force
herself
to vomit. She died a little before Easter a couple years ago. Her
parents
thought God was testing her and didn’t do anything to help her. I think
you’re
starving yourself to look young. I don’t expect any answers, now. I
just wanted
to let you know I know what you’re doing to yourself and if we become
good
friends, which I’d like very much, I will do everything I can to keep
you
alive. Okay?”
As Steven continued
to stare
out the window; after a few minutes, he sighed, then said, “A few years
after I
came up here from Texas, my Aunt Jennie suspected the same thing and
sent me
to a psychiatric hospital that deals with eating disorders. I was in
there six
months and when I came out I was a lot better. Everyone in my family is
small
statured. We’re not little people, just short and naturally slender. It
worked
for a number of years. I didn’t have to do anything to keep looking
thirteen.
Around when I hit twenty, I noticed my body changing, so I went on a
diet. I
guess things have gotten out of hand, again. Only, I need the money.”
“I’ll do whatever I
can to
help you,” Zach said. He immediately thought of the recently diminished
fifty
thousand he had in the bank, but wasn’t too certain he was willing to
part with
his money, either. He had four years of college to get through and his
herd of
cows were now back in his father’s herd. He couldn’t think of any way
he could
increase his pot of gold without going to work. Maybe selling himself
wasn’t
that bad an idea. It’s not like he had to do it forever.
“Thanks, I
appreciate this. I
really do.”
“Good, now, let’s
go upstairs
so I can suck your dick,” Zach said, opening his door and getting out.
He went
around to the other side and opened the door. “You don’t look too
excited about
getting a blowjob.”
“What’s happened to
you?”
Steven asked, getting out of the pickup and standing up. “This morning
you were
so nervous you were crying. And, now, you’re practically pulling me up
to my
apartment so you can suck my dick.”
“This morning when
I fell
asleep, I dreamt of sucking you,” Zach said, walking ahead of Steven,
then
stopping to wait for him to catch up. “I don’t want to let it go by.
I’ve got
the chance to do it and I want to do it tonight. Okay?”
“Do it here.”
“No, I want you
naked. I want
to touch your body. Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.”
“You’re going to
have to
swallow my come, you know. You won’t be a real gay boy unless you
swallow come.
Does my Davey want some come?”
“Yes, little
Stevie, right
now I want you to come in my mouth. Right now, but if you don’t hurry I
might
talk myself out of it, so come on.”
The next morning
when his
alarm went off Zach’s mind immediately went back to the moment when
Steven
filled his mouth with his seed. He’d been expecting something vile,
disgusting,
but it wasn’t. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t candy. It was simply Steven,
everything he expected from the young man with whom he was falling in
love. Gay
lovers swallowed come and he’d done it. He was definitely gay, now.
Steven
congratulated Zach by
giving him half a shot of brandy, which certainly knocked out the taste
in his
mouth. What Zach noticed, though, was the bottle. It had never been
opened, yet
it was dusty like it had been on Steven’s shelf for years. That was
good.
Steven wasn’t into drinking.
He had classes to
get through
this morning. Zach sat up and felt the crusty remains of a wet dream in
a new
pair of boxers he’d worn to bed. He couldn’t remember the dream. He ran
his
mind back, but there wasn’t anything. He always remembered them; except
this
time. Was it because he’d swallowed? Was it because he was, now, truly
gay? Was
it because he was falling for Steven? Did lovers stop remembering wet
dreams?
Whatever the reason, he needed a shower, food, clean shitkickers, and a
pair of
the jeans Uncle David bought him, no advertising today.
Zach’s first class
was
calculus. There were thirty students packed into a room designed for
twenty-five. The instructor handed out a ten question exam. She checked
the
answers as each student handed in their test. She looked at Zach, who
finished
second, and said, “Return to your seat. You get to stay.” He’d gotten
all the
answers right. A lot of the kids didn’t. They got the chance to go back
to the
Registrar and pick a different class for the eight to ten
o’clock class period.
Zach’s next class
was English
101, Freshman Composition, which he definitely was looking forward to
getting
out of the way early. The instructor had been listed as Richard C.
Jeffers,
Professor Emeritus, BA MA PhD DDiv DLit. Zach expected an old man, but
the man
sitting behind the desk when he walked in couldn’t have been much over
sixty,
if that. He was old, yet didn’t look too much older than Uncle David
and he
wasn’t far past fifty. He had a short, maybe a half inch, crew cut of
white
hair, watery brown eyes, a Roman nose, sharp pointed chin, and a
welcoming
smile. He watched every student as they came in and sat down.
“Good morning,
ladies and
gentlemen, I am Doctor Jeffers. This is Freshman English. If you’re not
supposed to be in Freshman English, I suggest you leave now as the
blood
letting will begin shortly.”
Ah, humor, thought
Zach.
Maybe this wasn’t going to be too bad.
“I have one rule
for my
class. Each and every one of you will respect me and the rest of the
class. No
respect, no grade. If at any time it becomes apparent any one of you
decides
you do not wish to follow that rule, you will be asked to leave and I
will
notify the authorities you are persona non grata in this
classroom and
will be graded accordingly. Any questions?”
“Does that mean we
can’t
question what you say?” asked a slender, small breasted, blonde, fresh
faced
girl sitting in the second row, three seats from the left.
“Ah, yes, Sara
McDonald. Nice
to see you, Sara.”
“Do I know you?”
“I know your
grandfather. We
play golf together.”
“Oh.”
“Any other
questions? Good.”
Doctor Jeffers then
went on
to explain the required texts and went over the schedule of the class.
They
were stuffing eighteen weeks of class into a little over eight. There
wouldn’t
be a mid-term, but there would be a paper every week and the first one
was due
Wednesday.
“Fifteen hundred to
five
thousand words, no more, no less,” Doctor Jeffers said as he walked
about the
room. He kept moving, never standing in one spot for more than a minute
or two.
“The subject is the most significant event in your life to date. For
some of
you, it might be your moment of conception. Don’t laugh, it’s been done
and a
few received “A’s.” For others, it may be something more recent.”
Zach thought, yeah,
like last
year, a couple weeks from now, to be exact. He was already planning the
paper
from the introduction to the conclusion, and brief epilogue. He’d just
do the
trip down the Buffalo because that was the determining event. He’d
have to
examine the reasons, but that was easy, too.
“Now, since there
are only
twelve of us,” Doctor Jeffers continued, “I’d like to get to know a
little
about each of you. I don’t want name, rank, and serial number. I do
want name, age,
home town, why you chose Nopaco, yes I use the vile acronym, too, and
maybe a
little more, whatever you decide. I think we’ll begin with this
gentleman right
here.”
Zach felt the hand
on his
shoulder, the gentle squeeze, the fleeting caress. God, he knows,
thought Zach.
They all know. Is there any end to this?
“Sir? Were you
listening?”
“Yes, sir, my name
is Zachary
David Alexander, Zach for short.”
“And, he’s from the
South!”
Sara exclaimed in a horrible imitation of a Southern accent.
“Sara? Were you
listening
earlier?”
“Why yes, sir, I
was,” she
said, continuing to use the accent.
“You think you’re
protected
because your grandfather is a trustee of this fine institution, but
you’re
wrong about that, too. We’ve already discussed your presence in my
class. One
call and you’re out of here. One more disparaging remark about, uh,
Zach, and
you’re out of here. Questions?”
“No, sir,” she
said, meekly.
“Good, continue
sir.”
“Yeah, like I said,
my
friends call me Zach. I’m from a small town in Eastern Oklahoma you
haven’t heard of, and you haven’t been
to. Nobody
in their right mind intentionally goes to Carruthers, Oklahoma. I’m
seventeen, be eighteen in October. I
chose North Park because it has a summer entry program for
freshman. And, yes, I know
how to castrate calves, where to shoot a horse if it has to be put
down, and
I’ve eaten prairie oysters.”
“And, you’re gay,
too,” Sara
said, resuming her disgusting Southern accent. “We know all about you,
faggot.”
“That’s it, Sara,
pack up
your stuff and leave this room,” Doctor Jeffers said.
“I don’t have to,”
forgetting
she didn’t have to use the accent on him.
“We thought you’d
say that,”
he said, taking out his cell phone and pressing a few keys.
“Hello, Bud? . . .
Yeah, this
is Dick. . . . Yeah, she did it. . . .
Sure, no problem. Here, Sara,
your
grandfather wants to talk to you.”
She took the phone
and walked
out into the hall.
“Zach, I want to
apologize
for what just happened,” Doctor Jeffers said. “It seems your parents
notified
this school, a few its trustees, and some others of your status in
their
church, or, rather, not in their church. An abomination? That’s quite
an
accomplishment for such a young man. I congratulate you.”
“You don’t have to
apologize
for her behavior,” Zach said. “She isn’t any worse than that town full
of homophobic
bastards I never have to see again. I’ve heard worse. Actually, she’s
rather pathetic.
Reminds me what I’d think of if somebody told me she was daddy’s little
princess.”
“Grandfather’s,
actually.”
Sara walked back
in. She’d
been crying. She handed the phone to Doctor Jeffers and said, “I want
to
apologize to everyone in this class for my inappropriate behavior. I
had no
right to say what I did. Zach? I’m sorry for outing you.”
She continued
sniffling as
she picked up her things.
“Doctor Jeffers, if
it’s all
the same to you, I’d appreciate it if you’d let her stay,” Zach said.
“I accept
her apology. It doesn’t matter to me if everyone knows I’m gay. Yes,
I’m really
gay. The town was right in their assumption. Of course, they didn’t
follow the
Bible when they expelled me from their presence, but they’ll have to
answer to
a higher authority for their error.”
“Thank you,” Sara
said,
practically whispering.
“Okay, then, I
guess you’re
next Sara.”
She stared at him
as if he
was Death himself, then said. “I’m Sara McDonald. Yeah, I’m spoiled,
just a
little. . . .”
Zach sat in his
seat
listening to Sara and the others as they went through their spiels
wondering if
anything had changed by his public admission of being gay. He knew it
was a big
step, at least that’s what he read in a lot of the online stories. He’d
spent
practically a whole year being gay without actually acknowledging it to
himself, but a whole town knew, even if they might have had questions
about the
truth. He was falling in love with a guy, which was certainly reason
enough to
think of yourself as being gay.
After class, and
another
apology from Sara, Zach walked over to the Union
to get a hamburger, or what he hoped would be hamburger. He imagined
all sorts
of texturized vegetable proteins flavored with all sorts of chemicals
to give
it the correct taste of ground up dead beef and almost decided to get a
piece
of pizza.
Most of the tables
were
either full or almost, except for one back in an empty corner. There
was only
one guy sitting there.
“Mind if I join
you?” Zach
asked, looking at the guy and suddenly feeling he’d seen him some place
before.
“No, go ahead sit
down,” he
said. “How’s your first day at classes?”
“You’re Bruce!”
Zach said.
“Oh, my god, so that’s what you look like under the disguise.”
Only what did Bruce
look
like? On closer examination, Zach wasn’t too certain whether he was
looking at
a boy or a girl.
“Androgyny,” Bruce
said. “It
runs in the family. You’d have to look at what’s between my legs to
tell for
sure. So, how is your first day?”
“I was outed in
English,”
Zach said.
“So, it’s true.”
“You know about the
letter,
too?”
“Zach, everybody
knows about
the letter. Besides me, you’re probably the only definite gay student
here.
Welcome to hell.”
“Fuck!”
Author’s Comments
Remember when you
first
realized you were gay? Remember how you felt? Did you try to think
maybe you
were wrong and it would go away when you turned twenty-one or when you
got
married and started making babies?
It doesn’t go away,
no matter
how hard you try. You learn to live with it, or it will destroy you.
Trust me,
I know. The day I came out to myself was the best day of my life. I
couldn’t
have been happier. The shit hit the fan afterwards, but I was happy and
that’s
all that mattered.