Date: Mon, 13 Nov 2017 15:51:25 +0000 (UTC) From: Kim Hansen Subject: Ring in Mine: John Chapter 2 Ring in Mine Kim Terry In many ways this is a continuation of the original Ring in Mine story. This continues John's story. It is written in third person. I hope you enjoy getting to know him as much as I did. Thank your for the emails. I appreciate even a short, "I'm reading your story," goes a long way. If you enjoy the stories on Nifty, please send a little something. Help support the cause. If you like Nifty donate. If you are nervous about using a credit card they accept PayPal. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html All rights are reserved to the author except those given to Nifty to publish and archive this work. Please do not repost without permission of the author. (If there are errors I do apologize up front. I find proofreading is a lot like steam cleaning your carpet. It doesn't matter how many times you go over something you still find another error or two.) Kim ---------- Ring in Mine: John Chapter 2 In fifth grade John won the district level spelling bee and science fair. His mother was in seventh heaven. Mark didn't even show up to share in his son's victories. In fifth grade he also started taking art classes at the community center. It was a particularly cold rainy day. His art class had been canceled. John was trapped at the center until his mom came for him when she got off work. John watched the kids in a gymnastics class. As they did cartwheels and tumbling John thought it looked like fun. The class was quite small. "Do want to give it a try?" One of the older students asked. John nodded. Nate wasn't much bigger around than John. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a pair of shorts. "Where do I change?" John asked. "Briefs or boxers?" Nate asked. "Briefs." John answered hesitantly. "Just kick off your shoes and drop your jeans." Nate instructed. John kicked off his sneakers, dropped his jeans and pulled on the shorts. The pair worked on tumbling, cartwheels and stunts like that. John lost track of time he was having so much fun. His mother found her boy standing on his hands with very little help from Nate. John hadn't even noticed when the class had left. John had been walking the two blocks from his school to the center Monday through Thursday. He chose to drop his Monday/Wednesday art class and replace it with gymnastics. On the way home they stopped at the sporting goods store and picked up what he would need. In gymnastics his small size could actually be an advantage. He didn't need great depth perception just a sense of balance and strength. He didn't tell his dad. John wanted to surprise him with an athletic son. John threw himself into his art and gymnastics with the same level of dedication he gave everything he tried. John was glad he hadn't told his dad about the gymnastics. John was watching a meet on television, when his dad came in and changed the channel to golf. "Gymnastics is for queers; guys who can't make it in any other sport." Mark had definite opinions on which sports were manly. During the following summer Mark had given up on his son participating in baseball. John didn't want to spend time away from his beloved art and gymnastics so he didn't push the issue. John had invited Andrew to the community center the first week school was out. In the morning they rode their bikes to the center. That was where they spent most of the day. They weren't taking all the same classes, but they were both taking a basic cooking class. It had been Andrew's idea. John's mom thought it best not to tell Mark. Andrew's baseball team practiced on the fields next to the community center. The pair of mothers liked the idea that their son's weren't hanging around the house all day watching TV. The boys started having dinner ready when their mothers got home from work. They appreciated the cooking class. They alternated kitchens cooking enough for eight people. They correctly figured their dad's would eat enough for two. Hours of daily practice produced results. Their cooking improved. John's art became more refined and technically executed. He was getting twice the practice as most of the gymnastics class. He added lean muscle and grew in strength and skill. The pair also lifted weights and swam. They were having more fun than hanging around home. Andrew spotted John when he was practicing unsupervised and John never missed one of Andrew's games. They started sixth grade in the same class. That meant they had the same homework. Except for gymnastics John didn't have Andrew's skills in sports, and academically Andrew depended on John's tutoring. It was a great symbiotic relationship. Neither really giving more than the other. Then came a fateful weekend in September. John had his first gymnastic competition and the showing of two art pieces at the state fair. Mark's wife, Ruth had made sure her husband's calendar was free for the weekend. Friday evening the family went to the fair. Mark dragged his feet when Ruth and John wanted to see the art exhibit. John was on cloud nine. Pinned next to one painting was a big blue ribbon. The other had a third place ribbon. John was pulled back to earth when his father didn't seem to care. "If we hang around here we are going to miss the alligator wrestling." Mark announced. The alligator wrestling was exciting but as they drove home the sadness set in. He reached a decision. He enjoyed painting. Other people enjoyed his work. He would paint not to please his dad, but just for himself. John knew that participating in a physical sport would please his dad. He could hardly wait for Saturday's competition. The competition included gymnasts from all over the county. Mark nearly walked out of the high school gym when he saw it set up for gymnastics. John took the floor proudly wearing his club's singlet and track pants. If his wife hadn't threatened to cut him off in the bedroom, he would have left in disgust. She had to remind him of his promise to watch objectively. John was signed up in four events. Two he excelled in. The others, he was passable. As he walked to the rings he concentrated on his routine. He wasn't going to let the performances of older kids bother him. He wasn't competing against them, just others on his level. He felt small as his teacher lifted him to the rings. John really enjoyed the rings. The world outside faded as he started his simple routine. He wasn't up to a really fancy dismount. He always felt successful if he didn't land ass first on the mat. He released on the swing, flipped and stuck the landing, no step only a little hop. He watched others perform. He told himself he may not have the best routine, but what he did he did well. He hazarded a glance the crowd. Mom was all thumbs up. Dad was not happy. John wished Andrew had been able to make it but he had a football game at the same time. By noon the lower divisions were done. John was amazed when he was called to the podium. He proudly accepted the third place medal for his vault. It was just a simple somersault, but he had stuck the landing. He was even more surprised to be on the top step for his rings routine. John's smile filled his face. It may have been in the lowest division competing, but he won. His dad would have to be proud of him. John had visions of his medals displayed next to his father's trophies. John ran to his parents, his precious medals jingling around his neck. He could see his dad was upset. He wondered what was wrong. "Dad, I took a first and a third place!" John cried across the shrinking gap. As John came within reach his dad slapped him for the first time, knocking his son to the ground. "Gymnastics, art and cooking, what kind of faggot are you? I will not have a queer son." Mark shouted! John stood up. "Dad I'm not gay!" John countered. "Don't lie to me. You are such a disappointment." Mark knocked him to the ground again. This time John did not get up again. Instead he stayed on the ground with tears streaming down his face. This was more than a twelve year old should have to deal with. "Be a man and stand up." Mark demanded. John wasn't going to give his dad the chance to knock him down again. "Only faggots cry." Mark kicked his son with the side of his foot and stormed away. Ruth was torn. Did she go with her husband or stay with her son? Mark answered the question when he grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her away from her son and out of the building. John didn't know what to do. He wanted his dad to be proud of him, like his friend's fathers were proud of them. The sad twelve year old walked the two lonely miles home only to find the doors locked and the key missing from under the mat. He rang the bell and knocked on the door. There was no answer and the car was gone. He sat on the porch wondering what he was going to do. It was getting dark. At least it wasn't really cold. The neighbor's car pulled into their driveway. Andrew popped out of the back seat and ran to his friend. "John, did you lock yourself out of the house?" Andrew asked. John just nodded willing to go with that explanation rather than the truth. "You can spend the night at my house instead of waiting here all night." John watched Andrew and his dad interact with jealousy. Why couldn't he ever please his father. As a family they ate pizza and watched a movie on television. Andrew loaned John a pair of pajamas and John slept in the bottom bunk bed. Early the next morning he went home. His mom was in the kitchen. "I'm sorry about last night. I checked with the neighbors and they said you were there so I knew you were safe." She gave her pride and joy a hug. "I talked a lot with your dad. We just need to give him a chance." John wondered why his dad needed a chance. He felt he was the one that needed a chance. Ready for church the family sat down for breakfast. Mark ignored his son. John felt that was an improvement over getting knocked down. During church John took the time to pray for guidance and for the acceptance of his father. Four sets of parents and his gymnastics coach congratulated him on his ribbons. Mark had to accept the praise for his son's achievements and his outstanding parenting skills. One of the congregation was part of the athletic committee at the college. He asked Mark if he was related to John Litchfield the young artist. "My saw his paintings at the State Fair. They were amazing. I haven't met that many Litchfields." Mark saw this as his chance to be noticed by the college. One of the coaches was nearing retirement. He put his arm around his son and pulled him close. "This is my son. His work is fantastic isn't it?" Mark managed the statement without cringing. John was in shock, but he offered his hand. They discussed art for the time between meetings. "John has more of his paintings at home. We would love to have you and your wife for dinner some evening. He could show you more of his work." Mark offered. John realized that he was being used. His father could see value in his efforts only when it benefited him. John was willing to accept what he could get. Unwilling to give up the things he enjoyed, he continued gymnastics and his art classes mostly in secret. His winning artwork and medals didn't find a place of honor until the night before Mark's schmoozing the athletic committee member dinner. John was sure his dad's laziness was the only reason they remained on display. John continued to walk straight from school to the community center. Ruth continued paying his class fees. Mark added dead bolt locks to the doors. John tried to make it home before his parents. If he was delayed he took the chance of being locked out again. One Saturday when his parents were gone, John took his mother's key to the dead bolts and the key from under the mat. He rode to the hardware store. When he returned the keys to their place shining duplicates hung from his neck on a chain. He was sure the neighbors had figured out that there was more going on than locking himself out. As the Christmas season neared John seemed to be spending more time at Andrew's. With John's help Andrew had moved from being an alright student with B's and C's to a good student earning more A's than B's. Andrew's parents thought it strange that they had to reassure Mark the boys were sleeping in separate bunks. The dreaded day came when they asked John the question. "John, why is your dad so worried that you and Andrew are in separate beds?" John was faced with a dilemma. Did he tell the truth and possibly lose his best friend or lie? "My dad thinks that because I am an artist and a gymnast that I am a homosexual." John tried to sound detached. "Are you?" Andrew asked. "Are you?" John asked in return. "I'm twelve. How would I know? I asked my coach if gymnasts are all gay and he laughed." "We talked and my parents say it wouldn't really matter if I was or not." Andrew said. Now John was really jealous of his best friend. ---------- Though this story is finished. It in some ways will continue in John's story. (The young boy from Chapter 34.) It will be posted as additional chapters to this story. If you would like me to drop you a note when it begins posting, just ask. I would appreciate hearing from you. ringinmine@yahoo.com