Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2001 03:42:46 EST
From: KillerPizzaMonkey@yahoo.com
Subject: Just Don't Think I'm Not- Chapter 12

Hey, this is Chapter 12 of Just Don't Think I'm Not (J.D. Tin).  I hope
that you enjoy it.  As you all know, I have just recently recovered from an
accident that left me unable to write for a short period of time.
Therefore, my writing became especially slow.

DISCLAIMERS: The usual be 18.  If you're not, props to you.

Send me some eamil, I want to know what everything thinks.  More to come
soon.


J.D. Tin
Chapter Twelve: The Hollow Tree

	To that question, I had no answer.  I mean, I liked him back then.
I liked him a lot.  We all gave Jack a hard time, but we really did like
him.  He just got annoying occasionally, not all of the time, like I make
it seem to be.  But when he was annoying, you just wanted to strangle him.
To answer my own question, I was almost infatuated with him.  Last year I
had just come out to my folks and friends.  I wasn't ready for a gay
relationship.  Jack was almost definitely interested in me.  Looking back
at it, he would hang around me the most, even though I was the one that
dealt out most of the harassment.  Why didn't I notice that before?  God, I
can't believe how totally fucked up I acted towards him.
	School went on, as things do, and I was getting more impatient.  I
found myself in Math , shaking my leg fervently.  Dad is coming home, I
realized.  That excited me more than anything.  Dad and I hardly have any
time to spend with each other, so when we can I try to make it great.  When
it comes to dad, all bets are off.  He wins.  I got nervous when I thought
about introducing Jack not only as a friend, but someone who I really,
genuinely, liked.
	The bell rang.  Every muscle in my body wanted to break out in a
mad dash for my locker.  Jack was waiting for me.
	"Hey Jack."  I held his hand.
	"Hey Zach."  He hugged me.
	That felt good, I thought.  "Are you ready?"
	Jack turned enough to let me see the bag on his back.
	"Cool, lemme get my stuff and we can jet."  I told him.
	Everything went into my bag for the weekend.  Jack and I got into
my car.
	"Are you excited to see your dad again?"  Jack asked me.
	"Yes, very."  I pressed on the clutch a second too late and the
gears made that tell-tale scream.  "Heheh, sorry."  I shifted gears
corrected the next time and we were off to my house.  VAST was booming in
my speakers.  Jack coughed a little.
	"Are you okay?"  I asked him, concerned.
	"Yeah, I'm fine."
	"Alright . . ." I tried to think of something to say, my mind was
reeling with thoughts of my dad.  What would he say about Jack?  Jack and I
were never close enough for him to meet my father when he came home
previously.  It would always be just Dad and I. Not even Mel could draw my
attention away.  The gravel jumped out of the way of my tires as I drove up
the drive- way.  I helped Jack out of the car, being the generic gentleman.
Mom wasn't home.  I checked the answering machine for any memos.  The only
message was from Dad.
	"Hi guys, I'm going to be home earlier than I thought.  Maybe
around 6:30.  Those permits that I had to find got found by someone else.
The filing clerk didn't put them in the correct place.  See you soon."
	Dad's message made me so happy.  He's coming home; he's really
coming home.  I need to do something, I thought.  I feel like I am going to
burst.  I turned around to face . . . where did Jack go?  I looked around
for Jack but couldn't find him.  I ran up to my room and he wasn't there.
What is going on?!  I searched downstairs again, still no Jack.
	"Jack!" I finally yelled.  My words reverberated through the house.
It felt empty as they came back to me.
	Had Jack left me?  Had he just walked outside and left on his bike?
Was I that absorbed in the message that I had lost track of Jack?  No,
there's no way that could happen.  I would have noticed it.  Then what
happened?  I heard something shift behind me.  I spun around to see Jack
step up to me.
	"What's wrong?"  He looked at the walls and the floor of the
kitchen.
	"Sorry, I didn't notice you had left.  Where were you?"  I asked
him.
	"I was in the bathroom, man."
	"Sorry."
	"It's cool.  But next time, if you want me, don't scream 'bloody
murder', okay?"
	"Sure."
	Jack went back to the bathroom to finish what he was doing before.
I wandered around the house until I found what I wanted to do: watch
television and play music.  I was tired of having to have everything be
special.  I wanted to just hang out.  Five CD's were loaded into the CD
play: The Doors, Greatest Hits; U2, The Best of 1980-1990; Sublime,
Self-titled; A burned Hendrix with all of my favorite songs.  I pressed
shuffle and turned the volume to a tolerable level; "What I Got" started.
Jack was there when I returned from getting drinks.
	"Alright. . .  "  I tossed Jack his A&W, ". . .  What do you want
to do?"
	"I don't know, how about you?"  He asked me.
	"I just thought we could hang around and watch DVD's until
something starts to happen."
	"Cool."
	I had seen all of the movies that we have.  If he had asked me to
pick out a movie I would have given him a list of my top twenty.  There
were twenty because we had over 100 DVD's.  But I didn't have to worry
about that.  Jack scanned the color-coded shelves and found The Silence of
the Lambs.
	"You know," He said, "I have never seen this movie before?"
	"Are you serious?"  I exclaimed, "This is a classic."

	By the time the movie finished, I was starting to get hungry.  It
was dark now and we hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, as we were
watching the movie.  Mom had come home an hour into the movie.  As I
thought, she was at Enzo's.  I don't know if I had mentioned before; but
Enzo's is a restaurant that serves the high echelon.  I don't know why Mom
shops there, the food that you can get at Safeway tastes the same, maybe
better.  But that may not be Enzo's fault.  It may be the cook's.  My
mother is a capable cook though; she can make lasagna from scratch without
breaking a sweat.
	"You hungry?"  I asked Jack.
	"Yeah, let's go get something to eat."  Jack replied.
	"Remember, Dad is coming home, we're probably going to eat at the
table."
	"When is he coming home again?"
	I checked the clock to the time that Dad had left on the answering
machine.  "In about 30 minutes."
	I clicked off the television and hesitated in the dark.  I hadn't
noticed that lack of light until then.  I wanted to let myself adjust to
ensure myself safe passage past my pointy coffee table to the light switch.
Jack's fingers brushed past my stomach as I crossed him for the switch.
When the light turned on, Jack got up slowly and straightened his shirt, at
the bottom.  Had I missed a signal?  The scent of dinner was covering the
door to the den.  If I had taken the time to test the door for heat, it
would have screamed at me.  When I opened the door, the smell of Roast beef
and steeped onions hit me.
	"Smells good, Mom."  I complimented her.
	She thanked me, "He'll be home shortly."
	"What's for dinner, Mrs. Stoneson?"  Jack asked.
	"Caesar salad, roast beef, greens and some nice red and white from
family friends."
	"Cool."
	"You guys can go off and do your thing for a while.  Zach's father
won't be home for another twenty minutes."  Mom said to Jack.
	Jack and I walked out of the room and brainstormed.  There were a
lot of games in the house that could be played more than once in twenty
minutes.  Out of the house, we could go for a short drive or a walk.  We
decided to take a walk.  We had been indoors for most of the day.
	There is a trail a quarter of a mile into the woods around my house
that not many people know about.  The ones that do hardly use it, as our
neighbors are seniors that like to stay inside and eat T.V. Dinners
instead.  I grabbed two flashlights, a lantern, and took Jack by the hand
to lead him into the woods towards the trail.  This trail was my favorite.
This whole area was covered with Redwoods and ancient Oaks.  There were
huge redwoods scattered on the sides of the trail.  Some of them had
toadstools and lichen moss.  (You can use lichen to orientate yourslef
north.  And as an alternative food source.)  Every once in while, there
would be an old willow tree with the moss that the Spaniards had brought to
America.  They looked like a sad medusa.  This place was magical.  I felt
it.  We walked until we hit the trail.  This trail was nothing more than
dilapidated cobblestones barley visible through the dirt.  It wasn't the
easiest walk.  Then again, we didn't have to wade through plants to get to
my favorite place.
	A long time ago, when I was ten and we had just started the work on
our house, I went walking through the woods.  I had never done this before
because the woods had looked like they held nothing of interest.  But my
room was being worked on that month, so I had a lot of free time.  That was
during Autumn, when the leaves had just started to turn.  As I walked into
the woods, I saw the old cobblestone path and followed it for another half
of a mile into the thick.  Once the path had ended, I wandered about until
I decided to go back.  That's when I noticed the gigantic ghost of a
redwood sitting off to my right hand side.  It had very clearly been hit by
lightening a long time ago.  But the tree was still too alive to die and
yet too dead to grow back.  A large knob in the tree's trunk had blown
open, making a hollow that was large enough to fit four or five people.  It
looked like a large igloo.  There was a lip that came down over the
opening; making it so that one would be required to stoop if anyone came
in.  Once inside, the air was humid and surprisingly warm.
	That was where I was taking Jack.  I had only brought him here once
before, with Mel and Sean.  We swore Jack to secrecy, we didn't want this
place to start to fall apart if everyone started coming.  Jack stepped in
first.  Once inside I checked my watch to see how long it had taken us to
arrive; we had plenty of time.  Jack and I set up three stumps, all in
front of each other.  I sat the lantern on the middle stump and lit it.
Jack and I sat.
	During this time of the year, the inside would be cool.  That was
good, because the temperature outside poked through the 80's.  Jack and I
talked about what had been going on lately.  A deeper talk than before.  We
talked about what Sean and Mel were doing.  They hadn't called either of us
in two days.  Or, maybe they had, but neither of us took notice.  Jack
talked about how he only knew my dad through the phone, and that was only
when he had answered the phone.  (This was before I had gotten my own
line.)  Jack was eager to meet my father, but also a little apprehensive.
He asked me what I would introduce him as.
	"As my date, of course."  Jack blushed and tried to cover up his
concerned look on the corner of his face.  "Why?  Do you think I
shouldn't?"
	Jack said, "I don't know.  I'd like that I guess.  But it'll seem a
little weird, don't you think?"
	"I don't have any problem with it and my parents are really cool
about my sexuality."
	"Yeah . . ."  Jack was probably thinking about his parents, who had
no idea who he was.  And if they did, he would probably be sent off to a
reform school.
	We talked more about my parents and coming out.  He would be dead
if someone did find out.  Conversation tapered down quickly into just
sitting and looking around in the tree.  Soon, my alarm went off and we
held hands on the walk home.  Mom and Dad were laughing when we walked in
the door.  When we had reached the doorway, they stopped laughing and got
serious.  Dad saw that Jack and I were holding hands and he smiled.  Dad
had told me a long time ago that no matter what I was that he wanted to see
me find someone that I was happy with.  Jack is the first boy that I
brought home.  I had a moment of hesitation before I made the
introductions.
	"Dad, this is Jack," I motioned towards Jack, "Jack, Dad."
	"Hey Jack."  Jack and Dad shook hands.
	"Hello, Mr. Stoneson."
	Jack and I sat across from mom and dad.  Mom got the dinner; I went
to go help her.
	"Do you think Dad will like him?"  I asked Mom.
	"I think so."  she said, "I don't see any reason for him not to."
	I carried out the salad while mom got the wine and a water pitcher.
It sometimes surprises people to see me drinking wine with my family.  The
fact that my family and I live in wine country becomes easily overlooked.
I'm not 21, they didn't/don't drink wine with their parents; why should I?
I served the salad and Mom poured the drinks.  Dad and Jack were talking
about school.  Does Jack play any sports?  No.  Does he have any hobbies?
I ride my bike.  Dad seemed to be pleased that I had not chosen a creep for
my first date.  Then he asked me:
	"Is he your date?"
	I was taken aback.  Dad is hardly an up front person.  This was not
his normal behavior.
	"Yeah."
	Jack looked alarmed.
	"Okay," was Dad's reply.
	Mom tapped a spoon on the side of her wine glass.
	"A toast," she said, "to success in business, friendship and love."
	Our glasses clinked together around the table and we began to eat.
	"So, uh, Jack," Dad said, "How did you and my son meet?"
	"I met him in 7th grade.  We have a few classes together, and
mutual friends."  Jack replied.
	"Do you have any classes with him this year?"
	"No.  But we always hang out at lunch and stuff."
	"Oh."
	There was something on the tip of my Dad's tongue, but it never
came out.  The rest of dinner was spent with small talk and small bites.
The roast beef was delicious.  As was the wine from Mike.  (The family
friend that lives in Angel's Camp.)

	"Well," Jack announced, "I need to get home."
	"Alright," Mom said, "Do you want to take any home with you?  We
have some leftovers."
	"No, it wouldn't fit on my bike.  Sorry."  Jack replied.  "It was
nice meeting you Mr. and Mrs. Stoneson."
	"Nice meeting you too, Jack."  Jack stretched across the table to
shake Dad's hand.
	I walked Jack down the stairs to my car.  We stopped on the gravel.
	"So, did you have a good time?"
	"Yeah, your parents are really cool."
	"Thanks," I got distracted by Jack grabbing his bike off the rack.
"Umm . . . Do you want a ride?"
	"Naw, it's cool.  Thanks anyway, man."
	"Alright, well, I'll c-"
	Jack's mouth hit mine.  Once I had gotten over asking what was
going on, I noticed that his lips weren't there anymore.  I looked at Jack;
his lips were curled up in a smile.  His eyes glinted at me playfully.  He
shot forward again and kissed me.  I felt his tongue pushing on my lips, so
I let them open.  Slowly his tongue slid in my mouth.  I could still taste
the wine in his mouth.  I fought the urge to close my eyes and watched his
face, with his eyes closed.  He gave me another quick kiss and pressed his
forehead against mine, looking straight into my eyes.  A chill shot up my
spine.
	"I'll- I'll call you then?"  I asked quietly.
	Jack got down from his cloud just a little.  "Yeah," he whispered
back.

	I was floating on air when I walked back into my house.  There was
a goofy smile on my face that I wanted to slap off.  But I couldn't.  I was
very happy.  I walked past the door to the dining room; past the clinking
of dishes being loaded into the dishwasher and was about to go up the
stairs when Dad called me.  He was in the den.
	"Yeah Dad?"  I asked at the door.
	"So let's talk about Jack."  Dad said to me.
	"Alright."
	"You like him a lot, don't you?"
	"Yeah, I guess I do."  I smiled.
	"You treat him right, don't you?  . . .  I mean, you're civil to
him, right?"
	"Yes."
	I snapped into auto-pilot.  You know, that place where everyone
goes when they don't want to listen to what someone is saying, so they say
what the person wants to hear.  I wasn't about to tell Dad that he was a
botched attempt to make Josh jealous.  This was botched because of two
things.  One: Josh had found Noah.  Two: I was getting to really like
Jack's company, a lot.
	Dad took out his wallet.  "Have you two gone out on a date yet?"
	"No."
	"Well, um, when- or, if you do," Dad took out two fifties and
tapped them on the top of his wallet for a second.  He was searching for
the correct words.  "Spend some money on him.  Take him out some place
nice.  He seems like a special person.  You should treat him that way."
	I took the money and placed it in my wallet.  "Don't worry, Dad, I
will."
	He smiled . . . and I smiled.  We both stood where we were and
smiled.  After what seemed an appropriate pass of time, I started to walk
out.
	"Zach?"  He called behind me.
	"Yeah, Dad?"  I called back.
	"Tell me this: Do you need condoms?"
	"No, Dad, I can get my own condoms."
	"Oh."  He looked at a picture in his wallet, and put it back in his
wallet.
	"Well, then, goodnight, Zach.  See you in the morning."
	"Yeah . . ."
	Dad added, "Think about what I said."

__________
This was Chapter 12.  I hope you enjoyed it.  You can email me at
KillerPizzaMonkey@yahoo.com

-OR-

You can visit my website at Http://www.TH380Y.net and drop me a line there.