Date: Tue, 20 May 2008 20:34:53 -0400
From: niftyreadersclub@aol.com
Subject: The Journey - Part Eight

The Journey

Part Eight

When I got home, I found Corbin in his room.  It surprised me.  "Hi dad."

"Hi.  I thought you'd be gone all day."

He looked grumpy, just laying there on his bed, looking through a gaming
magazine.  "My life would be much better with a car."

I chuckled, leaning against his door frame.  "Cor, I know you drink.  Your
mother tells me when she changes your sheets that they smell like alcohol.
It rubs off your skin, you know."  He started shaking his head.  "I won't
let you deny it.  Joe's parents caught you two and two girls completely
drunk in their home, remember?"

"How can I not.  You keep reminding me."

"Well, I can't stop you from drinking, or even finding out how you guys get
your liquor, but I can stop you from drinking and driving."  I backed away,
went downstairs and to the back yard.

Pouring the fluid over the charcoal, I struck the lighter and the blaze
started.  I also heard the back screen door open.  He sat on the porch
steps.  "I can't do anything right with you, can I dad?  I'm popular to
almost everyone but you."

"You did the right thing the other night with your brother," I reminded
him.  "And this has nothing to do with popularity.  That arrogance of yours
hits all time highs way too often."

"It's not arrogance dad, it's being well liked."

"And you pick and choose." I said firmly.  "You know, Zave and Alex tell us
how you can be at school.  You treat a lot of your piers like they're
beneath you.  They don't know you're doing it, even you yourself might not
know you're doing it."

He laughed rudely.  "This is funny coming from you, dad, because mom told
me you used to be the same way.  She's told me more than once that I'm just
like you."

"Yeah, well your mother changed all that for me."  I went over and sat
beside him.  "She and I would never be together if I didn't change.  Would
you care to hear what happened?"

Corbin grimaced as if he didn't care one way or another.

"Corbin, it's fantastic to feel like you're on top of the world.  I loved
it.  No one ever told me no, until I met your mother.  We liked each other
right off the bat.  The day after our first date, when I went to see her,
she had words for me.

"She said she didn't want to date me, not even know me.  I was floored.
She laid into me though, telling me that just from the first date she could
tell that I believed I deserved all my food served on golden platters and
that many people around me were there just to do my every wish.  She said
people like that disgusted her.  It was the end of that conversation.

"But you know what, I couldn't let go, because she made an impression on me
no other woman did, and I liked it and wanted to keep it.  For a few weeks,
I tried talking to her and she ignored me; it was making me look like a
fool in front of all my friends.  I didn't care.

"Your mother was into a lot of things in college; rallies, sponsorships,
raising money for this and that.  So I started volunteering, just to be in
the same area as her.  It took weeks, but she watched me.  I helped
everyone I could to make her look at me, and after a while that made me
feel good.  Helping people, I mean, and being nice to less fortunate
people.  I never did those things before.

"At last she came up to me, very angry.  She told me she didn't know what I
thought I was doing but that she was liking it and it was pissing her off."
I laughed at the memory, and even Corbin smiled.  "I begged her for another
chance and she didn't refuse.  I started joining her at rallies and fund
raisings.  I changed without even realizing it, and the funny thing was, I
was liked even more then I thought I deserved, but I had appreciation."
That's all I needed to tell him about me and his mother.  I went over to
the BBQ and stirred the coal.

"You don't appreciate anything Corbin.  You don't.  You just think you
deserve all the good things you get just because you're you."

"I like being me," He stated.

"Wait until some wonderful woman comes along and tells you what a jerk you
are."  I looked at him, "I hope to be right there to see that day.  I love
you Corbin, but I'm being honest.  Any sweet talk you're concocting in that
mind of yours will not talk me into letting you have a car."

"What if I get a job and buy one on my own?"

"I won't insure it."

He stood and re-entered the house, the screen door slamming but not
purposely.  In doing this, I recognized in him that his doing things like
this did not look as childish as it used to.  It was more like receiving a
rejection as an adult would.

Changing mode, I stepped over to the tree house and called Zave's name.  He
didn't answer.  I took my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed his
number.  I didn't hear it ring from within the fort.  In my ear and four
rings later, I got his voicemail.  "Hey, it's dad.  We're eating in about
an hour.  Would you come home please?  I love you."  I hung up.

I suddenly remembered that I'd left that DVD in the passenger seat of the
car.  I flew through the house and to the driveway.  Unlocking the door, I
snatched it to my stomach and went back inside, to the garage.  There was
only one place I could put it that it wouldn't be found, in my tool chest,
which only I had a key to.  Sighing with relief, I looked around to start
this evenings plan.  Pulling two sleeping bags from the rafters, I went
back outside and tossed them up into the tree house.  It was time to put
the food on the grill.

Zavid showed up just as I was putting the food on the dining table.  He was
going to come around the corner but saw me and froze for a few seconds,
backed up and ran upstairs.  The expression I saw on his face was one of
guilt.  Did Mister Bartender hit the nail on the head? I asked myself.
Corbin moodily came to the table.  "What's with him?"

"I don't know, but I'll take care of it.  Go ahead and start eating."

Moving upstairs, I saw that his door was closed.  I didn't even knock.  He
was at his desk and turning the small TV on.  "Come downstairs and eat."

"I'm not hungry."

I pulled him up from the chair and forced him to look at me.  "Zave, can we
just turn this off for right now and have dinner?  Please?  We'll talk
about it later." I let him go fast and he stumbled back against the desk.
"Just so you know, we're sleeping in the tree house tonight."  He looked at
me oddly, surprised.  "Just me and you."  I went back downstairs, hoping
what I said would appease him enough to let whatever he was feeling go
down.

Dinner with them was better then the last time.  At least we talked
tonight, even though one was crabby and the other was distant.  It was
small talk, mostly between them, about a couple games that were being
released soon.  I did bring up with Corbin that it might still be a good
idea if he found a part time job even though he wouldn't get a car.  After,
I let Zavid be alone upstairs until I felt it time to climb the tree.
Corbin got into a better mood after getting a call from one of his
girlfriends and left the house.  I watched TV for a couple hours,
unwinding, preparing for the next phase.  Around ten, I called to Zave that
it was time to get together.

I grabbed a couple pillows from the family room.  Looking up the stairwell,
I saw Zave standing at the top.  "Why are you doing this?" He asked
stubbornly.

"Doing what?"

"Why do you even want to be around me?"

Thank God Mister Bartender prepared me for this.  "We'll discuss this in
the tree house.  Come on."

I made it up there fast, but it took him a few minutes to finally appear.
"Come on in, I want to tell you something."  He did so gingerly, sitting in
a corner furthest from me.  I was on a roller coaster today, and was glad
to have the end of the day nearing.  "I know this guy, a gay guy,
downtown." His ears perked up.  "He's a really nice guy.  I talk to him.  I
talk to him because he knows you even better then your own father, and I
don't like that.  I want to be the one who knows you."

"How can he know me?  I don't even know any gay people."

"It's through experience, Zave, what he's learned and anything he went
through himself.  He thinks you're a pretty lucky boy to have me for a
father."  I could tell that he didn't like being talked about or having
anyone else know he's gay.  He was miserable.

"I wonder why it is."

"Why what is?"  When he spoke, I was glad to hear that this wasn't going to
be through tears.

"Why you have those feelings for me.  What do you think made them happen?"

"They're just there.  Okay?  I don't understand why.  I know they're wrong,
I know they're dirty-"

"Hey, let's forget about the guilt trip for now," I interrupted.  "I'm not
looking for guilt.  I'm looking for your feelings.  Try to leave everything
else out of this.  Son, can't you see that I'm right here?  Doesn't it
register in your head that I'm not turning away?"

"You probably will anyway."

"And I'm promising you that I won't.  The reason why we're sleeping in the
tree house together is so that the first thing you see in the morning is me
beside you."

He was at a loss for words.  It was too dark to really see him good so I
turned the light on.  It was a dim light.  I laid out the sleeping bags
side by side, and really there wasn't much more room around them.  I
removed my shirt and khakis, tossing them in an empty corner.  "Let's lay
down."

Zave didn't remove anything he was wearing, which was just a basic t-shirt
and running shorts, with probably underwear on underneath.  Slowly, he lay
on the empty bag beside me.  Lying on my side, propped on my elbow, I
looked at his face.  "Zave, this thing that's happening; it's between you
and me.  The rest of the world has no right to interfere.  It's just you
and I."

I felt relieved when he nodded.  "Son, do you remember if I did anything to
make you feel what you feel?"  He gave it some thought, then shook his
head.  That was all I knew to ask; I couldn't think of anything else, so I
decided to let it go.

We lay there for several moments, allowing me to put some conversation
together.  "Have you seen any more of your school friends?"  He nodded.
"Good."

"Do you want to ride with me tomorrow when I go pick up Alex and Kat?"

"Sure."  I liked his answer, but I couldn't help hearing in his voice that
he really couldn't believe he was where he was.  Plus, he sounded tired.
Even I felt tired suddenly.

"Let's try to get some sleep."  I reached up and pulled the light string
and we fell into a gray darkness.  The evening was still very warm so I
decided to stay on top of the sleeping bag.  He didn't move either.

I closed my eyes, but didn't nod off.  I don't know how long it was since I
turned off the light, maybe forty five minutes, but I felt a stirring in
the dark.  A minute later, another stir, and another, until I lightly felt
my arm make contact with his.  He was moving closer to me, probably
thinking I was already sleeping.  "Want me to hold you?"

If I startled him, I didn't know, but I thought I did because of several
seconds' silence.  He finally said, "I'd like that."  I wrapped my arms
around him and he fit into me like a hand in a glove.  I dozed off.


When I opened my eyes, it was early morning.  Zave was staring at me.  I
wondered if he even went to sleep at all.  We'd gotten disconnected some
time during the night.  I immediately thought of the entire reason for
doing this.  Putting a hand to his face, I said, "Zave, I want you to
remember this, remember seeing me right here by your side.  I want you to
remember this every time you think something's harming you, and then come
and find me."

He looked awed, studying my face like he might forget it if he didn't.  "I
will," he whispered.


Coming back on the trip to get the girls, I was so excited to see them.
Zave was in the front seat, Alex and Kat in the back.  They just had to
tell me everything about their stay with grandma and grandpa.  It was all
typical, of course, every day, but they had to tell me.

There was one point when Kat mentioned something about a boy in their
grandparents neighborhood, and Alex said, "He's so cute.  I liked him a
lot."  Looking over at Zavid, he heard this with an expression that said `I
wish I could say something like that about a boy,' or at least it's how I
perceived it.  It must be so lonely for him, I thought.

Gena's return was much needed for everyone.  Even Corbin was there, all of
us, to greet her.  The first thing out of her mouth was that she was so
glad to be home.  I secretly hoped it meant that she was having second
thoughts about her new position, but that wasn't going to happen.

After she checked to make sure that nothing burned down around the house,
she made dinner.  Things got back to normal for me again.  I didn't realize
how much I was missing her until I saw her in the kitchen.  Then it was
back to work for me in the morning.  Having the extra Monday off
invigorated me.  In our bedroom that night, while she brushed her hair, she
started the questions.  "What did the boys do while I was gone?"

"The usual, I guess."

"Hmm," she purred questioningly.  "I noticed something different at
dinner."

I looked at her, curious.  "What's that?"

"Corbin and Zavid," she said casually, "they talked to each other, even
laughed.  I haven't seen that in a long time."

I felt so overjoyed that she noticed.  "They must have re-bonded over the
weekend."  She looked at me funny, telling me she knew I was leaving
something out, and waiting to hear the rest.

She climbed in bed and looked at me with directness.

I didn't feel good trying to tell her anything about what happened.  As a
matter of fact, I refused.  "Honey, I need you to understand something.
It's very important."  I took her in my arms, which is what I always did
when I needed her to pay attention.  "There's gonna need to be times
between me and the boys that stay just between us.  I'm sure that you and
the girls have your little powwows that I know nothing about.  I need to
have that with the boys.  If I tell you everything, and you make a slip of
the tongue around them, they'll know I told you, and I'd lose trust.  Do
you understand?"

She didn't want to understand, but her sensible side did even if she wanted
to argue about it. She was the mother and guardian of the house.  "Look, if
there's anything either of the boys wants you to know, they'll tell you,
I'm sure of it.  What I'll tell you is that Cor and Zave had a talk.  I
know all about it.  You don't need to know the details."

"Well," she said reluctantly, "as long as they're communicating again.  I
still can't help feeling that it's about Zavid.  I'm sure of it."  Her
instincts were so powerful I thought of people with e.s.p.

I laughed at my own thought.  "Gena, don't do this.  Just let it go.  I've
got things under control."  She kissed me quickly, her body somewhat stiff,
telling me she should know everything.  I shook my head at her.

"Fine."


After work on Tuesday, I had to see Mister Bartender.  The bar was busy
when I stepped inside.  Not just busy; crowded in my opinion.  He wasn't
behind the bar, so I left.  Hoping, I looked up at the windows, not even
sure which set of them would be his.  He came out of the bar door.  "Hey!"
He breathed, out of breath.  "I saw you from the back.  Glad I caught you."

Smiling, I said, "Me too.  Are you still working?"

"Just getting off.  I was actually hoping to see you soon."  We started
walking down the street, toward the area where he once took me on for a
little tour. "Are you doing better?" He asked.  "I was concerned."

Nodding, I said, "I think I'm okay.  That little number you pulled on me
put things in a different perspective."

He laughed.  "Good.  I didn't actually mean to do what I did, it's just
that when you were really going to leave, I couldn't let you.  I saw the
look on your face and it reminded me of so many people I've known with the
same face, people who wear that face for the rest of their lives."

"I'm glad you did, and that you got rid of it for me."  We walked for a
couple blocks, no intention of making any stops anywhere.  I told him how I
handled Sunday night.

"So you're staying focused?" He asked.  I nodded, fully aware that I was.
"I'm so glad.  Now you need to make your kid focus on reality."

"How do you mean?"

Pondering before answering, he started by saying, "Heterosexuality,
Homosexuality, Lesbianism...they're all variations of one thing.  Sex."

It occurred to me all of a sudden when I meant to say something that when I
went to say his name, I didn't know it.  I felt embarrassed.  I held out my
hand, "My name's David."

His eyebrow arched as we shook.  "All this time, I thought you wanted to
remain anonymous."

"I didn't mean to.  You're a friend."

I could tell that he accepted this with warm thoughts.  "I'm Max."

After our exchange, I said, "So continue.  You were saying..."

"Sex.  It's what Heterosexuality, homosexuality and lesbianism are." We
continued to blindly walk the streets of downtown. "There is no culture to
them, no life style.  Sex isn't a community.  It is an act between 2 or
more people physically that is for the most part done in private.  The
reason why I bring this up is because from all I hear, your son is stuck on
being gay.  Most gay buys begin their awareness like this and it's an
instant failure for most."

I consented, very eager to hear this.

"Zavid needs to learn that life isn't all about being gay.  So many people
drown in being gay that they forget reality, that outside the bedroom, it's
a different world, one we all have to share.  Why people want to drag their
bedroom activities out into the public and throw it in peoples' faces is
beyond me.  Most of the people in public are in public for a reason...to
perform a job, to get something to eat, to socialize about the state of the
union...whatever.

"The best thing Zavid can do for himself is to live life outside the
bedroom the way it's meant to be lived.  If he can accomplish that, his
being gay won't be such a big issue.  If he can live everyday life without
constantly thinking about being gay at his age, his maturity will be
tenfold in the future.  Dave," he laughed, "you have no idea how many
twenty-one year olds I see come in the bar for the first time in their
lives.  I see at least one on his birthday every day.  They may as well be
fifteen mentally, and they won't be twenty-one until they're thirty-five."

Taking all this in, I had to agree.  It made a lot of sense.  I felt myself
feeling so much better yet again.  Even though my son needs to be gay, he's
letting it cloud everything else about him.  I looked at Max with a new
wonderment.  I had to believe him, he's seen too much.  It was opening my
eyes.

"So I need to get him to see his surroundings."  I said it as a statement,
not a question.

"I think so," Max acknowledged.  "But hey, I have plans I'm late for.  I'm
glad we connected, but I should get going."

"Alright," I said.  "I'll come around again in a few weeks.  I need to put
some thought into what to do next.  I really love our talks."

Grinning, he said, "I do too.  But I gotta dash!  Take care!"

I watched him run back in the direction we came from.  I was enthralled
with his experience.  He had no reason to mislead me.  I couldn't wait
until the next time my son was having issues that I could actually have a
base of operation to deal with.