Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 21:16:04 EDT
From: Writersrealmmm@aol.com
Subject: In Skater's Time 21

In Skaters Time

I write about skaters because they are free in their hearts. They aren't
looking to fit someone else's reality because they are too busy seeking
their own, often finding it in one another. I admire they're grit and the
fact they rarely back off. What you see is what you get and they'd have it
no other way.

Oppression diminishes. Secrets kill. Potential unrealized is a life
unfulfilled. Happiness is found in the truth of who you are.


				   *****


Antiques & Homicide is on the way.  For a look at my exciting cover visit
my website:

www.writersealm.net

Or mail a check for $18.00 for it and S&H to --

Rick Beck
Box 5749
Navarre, FL 32566

And a signed copy will be on its way to you before you know it.

				   *****

In Skater's Time
Aftermath

It was late when the doctor returned.  Our hollow eyes studied him and his
carefully measured demeanor. He picked out the spot where he would stand,
while still considering what he would say.  I suddenly didn't want him to
speak.

"We're going in to take his spleen. The bleeding hasn't stopped and we
can't allow it to continue. He's awake and has agreed to the procedure. He
wanted me to tell someone name Z, that he's fine. He's a strong kid. It's
not really a complicated operation and lots of people live nearly normal
lives after losing their spleens. You might as well go home and catch up on
your rest. He'll be in the operating room for at least an hour once he's
prepped, and then he'll be in recovery the rest of the night, so you can't
see him anyway. Come back in the morning and we should have a better idea
of what we're looking at once we get a look see inside."

He never looked one of us in the eye. He spent some time looking at his
shoes and they had been polished since he was in med-school and he watched
the floor as he walked away. He looked to be Craig's age but must have been
older, I guess.  None of us could think of anything to say.

I'm not sure what I felt. I was tired and scared and figuring out how much
trouble I was in because of where I was and when I was there. I wouldn't be
able to leave Paul and that meant the discovery of my absence was
imminent. So, a phone call seemed in order, and it wasn't going to be
pretty.

"Dad!"

"Where the hell are you? Do you know how worried your mother is? I'm really
disappointed in you, Z.  What's gotten into you?"

I wondered if I should just blurt it out. I'm a fag and I'm with my lover
and I'm disappointed in you and the entire goddamn world.

"I'm at the hospital."

"What's wrong?" My father said and a deathly silence fell on the other end
of the phone while he waited for an answer.

"My friend Paul was hurt. They're operating on him. I'm going to be here
until I know he's all right."

"You've got school," my father objected strongly without using any bad
words.

"I'll be here until I know, Dad."

The pause came back immediately while he contemplated the words. His
immediately and total anger mellowed in a subtle way by the time he got
around to saying what he had to say.

"I'll talk to you when you get home.  What hospital?"

"Scripps!"

"What's his name?"

"Paul Cooper. They're removing his spleen right now."

"Were you in a car?"

"It wasn't an automobile accident, Dad. I was in a car coming here but
there wasn't an accident."

"He's going to be okay?"

"They say so."

"But that's not good enough for you?"

"No, sir. I'll be here until I can talk to him and know he's okay. The
doctor said they'll know more in the morning."

"Why don't I know Paul if he's your friend? Why haven't you brought him to
the house?"

"I don't know. Look, Dad, I just don't want you to worry."

"It's a little late for that, young man. I want to know who this Paul is
when you come home. I'm not putting up with this while you're living in
this house. Do you understand me?  I expect a call from his parents as
well."

"Yes, sir. He doesn't have parents.  I'm moving in with Paul as soon as
school is out."

The silence came back and lasted even longer this time. I knew my father
was reconciling himself to the fact I was eighteen and about to do my own
thing. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop me and if he didn't
reconcile himself to that fact, he'd lose his son, if not to Paul than to
the next person or thing that came along.

"We'll talk about it when you get home. What about college?"

"He goes to SDSU. I'm going there in the fall."

"I thought you were going away to college? Your mother has her heart set on
you going to a good school."

"We'll talk about it when I get home," I said in my father's voice and
there was no reply.  He understood he'd lost this round and he was
conceding it.  The silence lasted a minute and then the dial tone hummed in
my ear as I looked at the mouthpiece, wanting to take it all back but
knowing what was done was done, and I didn't want to go home.

"You look like death warmed over. Where'd you go?" Craig asked as I looked
to see Kenny slumped down in the orange chair, sleeping restlessly.

"Called home," I said.

"Oh, that didn't go very well if that look means anything.  It can't be
that bad."

"I just told my father I was moving in with a guy after I graduated."

"Paul?"

"Yeah!"

"They didn't know you were gay?"

"No, I didn't do anything until we moved here. They don't have a clue. They
want what they want and I need what I need."

"Education is important," Craig said. "Parents can make getting it a lot
easier."

"SDSU is good enough for you and Paul. I can manage there."

"Your parents probably don't think so.  They probably have big plans for
their son."

"No, they had in mind a big school for my big brain."

"Parents have dreams for their kids."

"I have my own dreams. I can't live my life for them. I'm in love with Paul
and I want to be with him, especially after this."

"Paul is a handful," Craig said.  "You think you're man enough to handle
him?"

"Don't say anything about him. I know about you. I know what he did up
there with you old guys," I spit out the words like a prosecutor making a
charge.

"Hold on, Z. There's nothing bad I have to say about him. He's a good kid
but his head is as hard as the wall. He has no give in him. It's all or
nothing at all. You haven't figured that out?"

I remembered how he persisted even after I told him to get lost. I
remembered all the days we saw each other and how he was always there when
I wanted to see him. I remembered the near fight at the movie theaters and
how there were three of them and one and a half of us but Paul never needed
me to get involved. In fact he hadn't expected me to fight his fight. It
was his battle and it was one he had to fight alone. Paul had something to
prove but I didn't know what it was.

I wouldn't fight if someone didn't force me to defend myself. I wasn't
afraid of anyone but I wasn't at all aggressive either. I wanted nothing to
do with fighting because I knew once you reached the point where you had to
fight to solve the disagreement, it was already too late and any chance for
an intelligent outcome was lost once the violence started.

I didn't think I was a coward and I didn't think Paul was wrong or heroic
for defending what he thought was right.  We were different people and it
took us different things to make each of us feel whole. I still wasn't sure
what motivated him and I merely accepted myself as I was, although the
thoughts I had that turning eighteen would simplify my life were seriously
flawed.

Now I had to face my parents with some information that was going to hurt
all of us.  I didn't see any way to avoid it now. There was no other
explanation for my behavior and they had considered it by this time.  They
were smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together and I wasn't a
liar once you got beyond my inner most feelings that had me fantasizing
about boys and men for as far back as I could remember.  Of course, it
wasn't really a lie, because no one had ever asked me if I day dreamed and
dreamed about boy's dicks and what I wanted to do with them. I had merely
kept it to myself up until now, and even now I wasn't sure just how much to
tell my parents in order to get myself off the hook.

Two San Diego County Sheriffs stood out in the center of the room, after
seeing Paul.  They did scare me but only because I wasn't sure how much to
say and what to leave out. I was sure I wouldn't be discussing my fantasies
with either of them. I knew there were laws, being made aware of them by
another sheriff way back when. I just wasn't sure how many there were that
Paul and I might be violating at any given time.

"He says he was with you," one officer said, figuring out on their own that
I was Z.

"Yep. I went home."

"He doesn't know anything about anything. What can you tell us?  What took
place while you were with him? Anything that might have led up to the
altercation that he was involved in?"

"It wasn't an altercation. He was jumped. It was gay bashing," Craig
announced for the half a dozen other people within earshot, and they all
took turns staring at us.

"Gay bashing?  That's a hate crime?"

"Yes, it is," Craig said.

"It changes the complexion. How are you involved? Were you with him?"

"Not today," Craig said, wavering in how much confessing he wanted to
do. "I know him quite well, thank you. The only way they got the best of
him was to jump him."

"You're saying that kid's gay? I mean...."

The two deputies looked at each other and one shrugged as though he was
saying anything is possible.

"That's what I'm saying," Craig said.

"And all of you are...."

"I don't see how that's germane to any investigation. Paul got jumped by
people who hate fags.  That's what you need to know."

"Fags?"  The cop said, having stopped writing some time before. "He's
a... gay and that's why he was jumped by person or persons unknown? How did
anyone know. I mean he don't look like no gay dude I've ever run into."

"How would you know who you ran into? We don't wear signs," Craig said in a
hostile voice. "Take it from me, he's gay.  That's why he was jumped."

"Well, I never doubted you were telling me the truth. I merely find it hard
to believe. I'm still lost about how someone decided he was... gay and then
decided to jump him."

The cop jotted down a couple of uninspired words and glanced from Craig, to
me, and finally to Kenny, one at a time, hoping one of us would get him off
the spot he found himself on.

"He can tell you why?" Craig said, deferring to me with a casual nod of his
head.

Me and my big mouth!

"I don't know why. I wasn't there," I protested.

"Tell him what you told me. You can't lie. They've got to know the
truth. Tell them, Z."

"What's your relationship to Mr. Cooper," the deputy with the pad asked as
Kenny opened his eyes and sat up looking around.

"I'm his friend," I confessed, looking to see if Craig was going to grade
me on my answers for honesty.

"His friend?" The deputy said, analyzing the word carefully, while watching
my nervous behavior.

"Yeah, we're friends, okay?  I got to draw you a picture."

"And you were with him earlier?"

My face blazed with a sudden intense heat. I was now trapped into telling
the truth or risk lord knows what penalty for not telling the truth. I
looked at Kenny who went back to dozing and then I glared at Craig while
the officer waited, tapping his pencil on his pad as he stationed himself
in front of me.

"I kissed him before I went home, okay?"

"Kissed him where?"

"On his freaking lips already. Where do you think I'd kiss him?"

"What place were you in at the time of this... kiss?"

"Oh, we were in the food court at the mall," I said, losing the attitude.

"Could anyone see the kiss?"

"Well, yeah, just the people in the food court."

"Didn't it occur to either of you at the time of this public kiss that you
were asking for trouble?"

"What, like you've never kissed anyone you loved in public, maybe when you
were leaving them or meeting them at the mall," Craig blurted out in a
presumptuous way.

I glared at him again. "You've run your mouth enough, Craig. Shut up. He's
talking to me."

"Yes, please let me finish so I can get out of here," the deputy agreed.

"No," I said. "That didn't occur to me. I just did it."

"So what's the problem? It was a hate crime," Craig persisted.

"Shut up, Craig," Kenny said without opening his eyes. "Don't pay any
attention to him, he's an activist."

"This definitely has the sounds of a hate crime. All the elements seem to
be in place. Did you see anyone or did anyone give you any trouble, hard
looks, anything you can remember.  Take your time and think abut it."

"No. I was heading home and I just leaned over to kiss him. Our lips were
already in the same general vicinity at the time and I just did it without
thinking that someone would be offended because I love someone."

"Love?" The deputy repeated, looking at his partner. "How old are you,
son."

"Eighteen," I said, "Almost.  I kissed him.  He didn't kiss me."

"And he's how old?"

"Nineteen," I said, impatient.

"How old are you?" He said with interest and not believing me at all.

"Eighteen next week."

"Okay? Well, I've got everything I need for now. I'll need all of your
addresses and a way to contact you."

"I don't have anything to do with this. I merely brought them to the
hospital," Craig said. "I had nothing to do with the rest of it."

"I'll need all of your phone numbers and addresses," the deputy persisted,
staring hard at Craig. "This is a different kind of crime than I started
out investigating and I might need to talk to all of you again. We don't
take hate crimes lightly. The DA might need to talk to you if we find
someone we like for this, but with no witnesses and him not seeing his
assailant it'll be a stretch to convict these jerks. We'll need all the
help we can get."

"In that case," Craig said, reaching for the deputies pad and then handing
it to me once he wrote down his information.

"I'm his brother. Same information," Kenny said.

"Yeah, that I can believe," the deputy said. "You two twins?"

"Nah, he's a much older man," Kenny said.

					*****

"You look like shit," Paul said, as I stood over his bed.

"Yeah, I can only stay a minute. How do you feel?"

"Great! I want some of this stuff when I can enjoy it," Paul said, smiling
broadly with his eyes about half open.

"I'm sorry, Paul," I said.

"For what? You didn't hit me."

"Yeah, but I might have set you up to get jumped."

"Nah, how'd you get up here?"

"Craig," I said.

"Craig is here? How'd he know I was in here?"

"He brought you, Paul."

"He did? I missed that. I'm pretty tired, you know. Maybe come back after I
get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll come back," I said.

The doctor told us he would be in and out all day and that we needed to go
get some sleep. They still weren't sure that they had solved all the
problems but Paul wasn't in any danger and it was just a matter of a few
days rest.

Craig drove me back to Kenny's house and they were arguing about Craig's
big mouth when I left them standing on the steps of the back porch. My
father's car was in the driveway when I walked onto my block. I cringed
heavily knowing he never missed work come hell or high water. He had taken
the day off because of me and that couldn't be good.

They watched me from the dining room table as I stepped in through the open
door into the living room.

"Hi," I said, trying to smile but not feeling much like smiling.

"Young man, you owe us an explanation," my mother said with an
uncharacteristic sternness in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am. I know."

"Why are you doing this, Z? You're about to graduate from high
school. You're entire life is ahead of you and you're going to mess it all
up the last few weeks. It makes no sense," my father said.

"I know. I didn't plan it like this. I went over to Paul's and he was
hurt. We had to get him to the hospital. I would have been back by
mid-night or so if things hadn't gotten complicated."

"When it got complicated was when you climbed out of the window in your
bedroom. Why didn't you tell us you were going out?"

"Yeah, right, dad. Oh, by the way, I'll be out past midnight but I'll be up
for school in the morning, so don't worry."

"But you were out all night and you didn't go to school and that's not
acceptable, young man," my mother advised as my father put his hand on her
forearm and squeezed until she eased back away from the anger that
permeated her words.

"Z, what's going on. This isn't like you. You've always been a good
son. I've always been proud of you. I want to understand what is going
on. I want you to tell me the truth and nothing else. What's going on. Why
are you sneaking out at night and who is Paul?"

"Paul... is my... friend," I said, pulling back at the last second.

"You've had friends before. You've never let them disrupt your life. You
have a responsibility to us, to yourself, and I don't like this and you'd
better come up with something real fast, young man. We are losing our
patience and I don't like being unfair, so give me some reason that will
explain it so we can put this behind us and know it isn't going to repeat
itself. We need to know that. You owe that to us. You owe us the truth, Z."

The truth will set yee free, only it had gotten Paul's ass kicked.  Lying
wasn't my style and besides, my parents could read me like a dime novel.
The words were like concrete in my mouth. I wanted to speak but the words
wouldn't come out. What was I going to tell them? How could I explain
without telling them?  I couldn't.

"I'm gay. I'm in love with Paul. He's asked me to move in with him and
after high school I plan to do that."

There was a long heavy silence at the table, except for my mother's sudden
gasp. They both stared at me with looks I couldn't read. I'd never seen
either of them look at me that way before. They had the concrete in their
mouths now and the silence filled the dining room. I just wanted to get out
of there and I had the feeling they wanted to do the same thing.

"You look tired. I'll call the school so the absence doesn't go against
you. You go to bed now. We'll talk about this later. I've got to go to
work."

"There's nothing to talk about. I've got to go back to see Paul this
afternoon. They took his spleen out but aren't sure they've solved all his
problems."

"You've got to get your rest. I'll take you up to the hospital after you
get some rest. I'll come home early this afternoon. If this Paul cares
anything about you he won't want you ruining your life for him."

"No, he wouldn't."

"Go to your room," my father said firmly.

"Yes, sir," I said, knowing the tone and not knowing what the rest of the
day might bring.

It had been done now. I'd confessed and the secret no longer hung over me
like a lead weight that I feared one day would crush me. There was a
strange exhilaration that went with the truth. I knew it wasn't over with
my parents. It hadn't even started. Dad never resolved anything on the
spot. He was the type that worked on it for a long time before he came up
with the answer. My mother would reluctantly accept me as her flawed
son. She would show her disappointment for a few days and one morning she'd
put it behind her.

I could move in with Paul if they threw me out. I'd heard stories about
that but my parents weren't reactionary. I was eighteen and they couldn't
force me to do anything any longer. They wanted the best for me and so
they'd try to meet me half way if they could.

I hated to disappoint them because my parents had always been there for me
when I needed them and now I had become the ultimate disappointment and
there was no way to take it back. I was what I was and there was nothing I
could do to change that. I suppose it was up to them to accept me as I was
but for some reason that didn't seem fair to me. They'd given and given and
tried to make sure I had all the things I needed. What kind of a son would
hurt his parents after that?

Why should they accept something that went against their way of life? I was
the child and they were the adults and my rights certainly didn't outweigh
theirs. It was no win for all of us. They wouldn't be able to accept their
only son, their pride and joy, as a fag. I wouldn't be able to accept their
discomfort with me. It seemed best I move to Paul's right away so I didn't
have to see the pain in their eyes every time they looked at me.  My father
would be home early and he would have more to say about what I had told
him.

I cried myself to sleep but it didn't take long. I was exhausted and the
exhilaration had lasted but five minutes before reality struck.


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