"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"According to you, I mean, even if I tried, and I tried with a girl three years ago... but, it just didn't work. I thought, if maybe, maybe she was not the right one and... Maybe I can find another one, one who... "
"The majority of men, if not conditioned by society or their own prejudices, would work well, sexually I mean, both with a man and a woman. The body, stimulated in an appropriate way, reacts. As it does when you masturbate, doesn't it? If the mind is free, the body simply reacts, it's natural."
"You too, dad?" Daneel asked him, almost in a whisper, wondering if he had asked him a too personal question.
"Me too, yes." his father answered serenely.
"You mean that... you did it both... with... that is..."
"With males and with females?"
"Really!" Daneel felt himself blush slightly.
"Yes, both with boys and girls, that's right."
"And it worked? Did you like it? With both?"
"Yes, even if I liked it more, much more, with…" Pauwels said, with a slight hesitation.
"With the girls, right?"
"No, Daneel, with the boys." his father answered softly.
His son's eyes widened and he looked at him in wonder. "You mean, Dad, that you too... that you are... like me?"
"Maybe not, because with the girls and with mom, there were no problems. But yes, I've always felt more gay than straight."
"But then, dad, then... why did you get married?"
"For many reasons. I honestly cannot tell you what the most important was. One reason is that society and my family pushed me to get married, to start a family. Another reason is that even a gay man can feel a desire for paternity. And I'm happy to have brought you into the world, to have given you life. Another reason is because I deluded myself that mum was the right person for me. And who knows if there are not others reasons. As I told you yesterday, marrying was a mistake, apart from the fact that you were born. You have not been a mistake. I wanted you, I desired you, and I'm happy to have given you life."
"But you told me that, after you got married, you never betrayed her. That you never cheated on mother."
"Neither with a man nor a woman. I promised her loyalty, before God and men."
"But wasn't that difficult?"
"Sometimes yes, of course. But it was a bearable weight."
"Is that why you left? To live with a man?"
"No, it's not because of that. After I left, my sex life ended."
"But before you met mom, did you ever fall in love with a man?"
"Yes. First, a classmate, then a colleague at work."
"Why didn't you get together? Didn't you stay together?"
"If it's hard for you now, think about how much more difficult it was when I was young. Perhaps we could have, but we lacked the courage, unfortunately. However, if I had stayed with one or the other, you would not have been born. So now I'm glad things turned out like they did, despite everything. "
"But at that time I was not born, so you didn't know that."
"But now I know, and now I would be sorry if you were not born," his father told him, with a tender smile.
"So, in your opinion, if I could accept myself for how I am, I should be with Jean-Marie, whatever the cost?"
"Of course, but first you should accept yourself. But I think you're suited to one another. "
"But you do not know him."
"If he loves you so much he accepts you as you are, and is willing to wait for you to mature, he must be a smart boy. And since I know you and I know you're a smart boy, I do not think you'd fall in love with him if he were not worthy of esteem and trust. You want to make love with him, right?"
"If I were sure that afterwards everything would be fine, yes."
"But with him, you do not just want to have fun, right?"
"No. But apart from Jean-Marie, is it wrong, in your opinion, that two guys have sex just for fun?"
"No, if there is mutual respect. But, of course, sex which is to express one's love, is quite another thing. If you do it just because of lust or for fun, it's a bit like eating a meal from Mac Donalds. But if you do it out of love, then it's the most balanced, healthy, nutritious, tasty meal there is."
"But what can I do to be able to accept myself fully, as I am?"
"Am I wrong, or are you already on your way?"
"Of course, talking to Jean-Marie, talking to you, is helping me. But I still don't know if... But you were happy to be gay, or bisexual, anyway?"
"More gay than bisexual. No, I was not happy. Nor did I regret it. It was just like that. That is, I mean… are you happy to have two legs?"
Daneel smiled: "Three I wouldn't like, and two is better than just one."
"And wouldn't you mind having four... like a centaur?"
This time Daneel laughed: "No, of course not, then I would not be me anymore!"
"Exactly. If you were not gay, or male, or a dark haired boy, or Belgian, and so on, you would not be you: you'd be another person. Maybe better, maybe worse, but another."
"Hell, Dad! I should have heard these things when I was thirteen or fourteen."
"When all your mess started, right? Unfortunately I could not. However, when you were thirteen, I had no idea how your sexuality would develop."
"What would you have preferred, that I were gay or straight?"
"That you were yourself, gay, straight or bisexual, no matter. When your mother was pregnant, a lot of people asked: would you rather it be a boy or a girl? And I honestly answered: whatever comes is perfect. A parent has to welcome a child as he is and try only to be useful, to help develop his or her personality, his or her character. A child is not an appendix of the parents, their emanation. It is another being, which must become autonomous, independent."
"Why, Dad, why can't I come with you?" Daneel asked him, but more than a question it was a plea.
"Because you have to make your life, Daneel. The fact that I could get back to you is already something special."
"You waited for my mother and Petrus to leave."
"Otherwise we could not have all this time and peace of mind, and because I felt that this was the right time to come back. To try and help you, like I have not been able to do all these years."
"But I... I'm gay because you're gay?"
"No, that has nothing to do with it. Straight parents can have gay children and gay parents can have straight children. I don't think the gene of homosexuality exists."
"Oh, dad... but... when will you have to go... will we stay in touch? Somehow?"
"Somehow, yes. Even if not in the way you or I could wish."
"You left home without taking anything with you. You didn't use your credit cards. That was so no one could find you, I think. But... how did you live, all these years, dad?"
"I had no problems, Daneel. I made a good life. You don't have to worry about me."
"Dad... I'm sorry, you know, but I have the impression that you don't want to talk about what happened after you left. At work they said you warned them that you had to go to the doctor, but the doctor never saw you that morning. You couldn't have found a job using your own name, not here, or the police could have tracked you down. You said you went far, far away. Did you go abroad? But your passport was here at home?"
"You're right, Daneel. I'd rather not have to talk about how and why I disappeared. Those things are in the past."
"I'm not just curious, Dad... it's that... I need to know.
I asked myself many times if it was my fault."
"No, no, son. It's absolutely not your fault."
"So... it's mom's fault?"
Pauwels De Smet didn't answer, and Daneel saw a shadow of pain tarnish his eyes for a moment.
"It was mom's fault. Right? She worked it out? Found out you're gay?"
His father nodded.
"But how? If you didn't cheat on her with a man, how could she find out?"
"Daneel. It's better if... if we don't talk about it now, believe me."
"No, Dad! I had to find the courage to tell you that I am gay. Before I knew you would understand me. Why wont you explain everything to me? Tell me, please!"
"I don't want to create problems, or cause you pain."
"I was afraid it would hurt you when I confessed that I was gay. But I took the risk. Now I'm glad I did it, it made me feel better. You accepted me. You don't believe I would be able to endure the pain, assuming what I want to know will hurt me? "
"If you really insist... If you're sure you want to know?"
"Yes, dad."
"Okay, I'll tell you. But not now, not today. Before leaving again, if you want, I will tell you. "
"Why before leaving and not now?"
"Because right now I've still got to help you tidy up the mess you have inside yourself. That's why I came back."
"It's already starting to. You know, I've never been able to talk to anyone before. To the doctor, yes, but he was only interested in whether I was healthy or ill. And with the guys with whom I had my adventures there was not the confidence, or the necessary friendship. Logically I could have confided in my mother, but with her hatred of gays, I didn't even think about it. I'm not saying it's all sorted out, Dad, but... But I feel like it's going better. I could talk to Jean-Marie a little, it's true... But he, so to speak, being a party to the question... Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand, and I also understand that it is very difficult to solve six or seven years of problems in a couple of days."
"Maybe not even in a week or ten days. But, you know, sometimes even after three days of rain in half an hour the sky can clear up. It only takes a strong wind and the fact that you're back, that you reappeared, has been like a strong wind that is sweeping away the clouds."
"You are strong, Daneel, but you must also become stronger."
"Strong, me, dad? I am very weak! How many times have I promised myself I would change? I tried with all my strength and instead I failed!"
"You can't change your nature. You applied your energy, your strength to something impossible. Like those who delude themselves that they have succeeded, and then realised it was an illusion! No, you are strong because despite the mess you found yourself in, you walked forward. Because although you were convinced you had failed, you did not give up, even if it was useless to keep fighting. This is true strength, your strength. But as I told you, you have to become even stronger. "
"And how, dad?"
"To begin with, by accepting yourself as you are. Accepting your nature truly and completely. Then, leaning on those who can give you strength in moments when you feel too tired, too weak. It need only be someone sitting next to you, to wait for you to be better. Leaning on those you love and who love you."
"But you said you had to go away again. Before my mother and Petrus come back, anyway."
"I was referring to Jean-Marie, Daneel. Why don't you try to go and see him? Why don't you ask him to spend half a day, or a day together?"
"And... can I tell him that you're back?"
"Perhaps not yet, not now. Maybe later, if and when you think it appropriate."
"I could call him and ask if he can come over. But you..."
"I can go for a ride, if you want him to come here."
"But... if the neighbours saw you? Someone could recognise you. When you arrived, it was night."
"Maybe they wouldn't recognise me. Not after so many years, and anyway, if they say hello, I can pretend not to know them, not to be me. I can pretend I'm a stranger. Anyway I'll find a way to get by."
"Yes... and if they ask me, I will deny having seen you."
"And then, you know, when you believe someone is dead, even if you notice that the resemblance is strong, you think it's just a coincidence. A dead man who returns. No one believes in that," his father told him, with a little smile.
"I recognised you immediately. Because you haven't changed at all."
"No, Daneel, you recognised me right away because inside your heart you never believed I was really dead. And then you're my son, you're not just anybody, a neighbour."
"Oh, Dad, it's so nice to have you back. Even if... even if only for a short time."
"I also wish it could be for longer, believe me."
"Dad?"
"What?"
"When did you realise you liked boys? What was your first experience with a boy like?"
Pauwels smiled: "Curious, eh?"
"Yes." Daneel admitted, addressing him with a sweet smile. "If you feel like talking about it, of course."
"Well you see, Daneel, I got on fine with my classmates, boys and girls, as a child. With my male companions I used to play football, or try to see who could spit the furthest. Or we played war, fighting among ourselves like cockerels, for fun, of course. With my female friends: I liked playing with a doll, or pretend families, or the doctor, drawing, or working in the kitchen.
Growing up, my family, who had moved here to Namur, lived for two years with the family of my father's cousin. They had two children, a girl who was a year older than me and a boy who was four years older. They had a very large house, so there was a room for my parents, while I slept in my cousin's room.
My first sexual explorations happened with my little female cousin. Sometimes, when we were alone at home, we played doctors, but not with dolls, one of us was the patient and the other the doctor. And then, I liked how she touched me, she was playing with me. In short, I got aroused and she giggled and made me touch her. The patient became the doctor and vice versa. But I also liked it a lot when I was in the room with my male cousin, watching him while he was sleeping.
He was already big and had lots of girlfriends. He often came home late in the evening, after dinner, and the noise he made, woke me up. So, I was waiting for him to fall asleep. He was sleeping with only his underwear on. When I saw he was asleep, I would slowly descend from my bed, lift his sheet to look at his body, which was more mature than mine, and half-naked, my eyes focused especially on the bulge in his underwear.
Gradually I became more daring, and even began to touch him. That game aroused me even more than playing the doctor with my little cousin. I don't know if he really ever noticed my secret games, or not. But from how he looked at me during the day, I guess he was well aware of it. However, he never said anything, not even when I found the courage to slip a hand under his underwear to caress him there.
Then my adolescence came, my parents found other accommodation and we went to live alone. With adolescence began the classic secret games between classmates, who lived near our house. Thanks to them, I discovered the first pornographic magazines, and even mutual masturbation. We had competitions to see who ejected semen farther or who did the most spurts.
We also used to play at fiancés. That is, one of us in turn pretended to be a girl, and we touched each other, we kissed each other, and justified that somewhat daring game, with the excuse that it was to try and see how you do it with girls. Because we were shy towards the fair sex. But I gradually realised I liked those games a lot, although I still believed when I matured, I would be attracted only by the girls as seemed to happen to everyone.
Little by little I began to realise, with some discomfort and a little bit of worry, that what I felt was not a normal thing. Yet I wasn't at all effeminate, which was how my comrades described fags. However at that time I also had two or three experiences with the girls. Well, nothing really serious, you understand, more than anything else a secret kiss, or holding hands when we went to the cinema and the lights turned off. Some caresses, a little intimate feeling between the legs... and we seemed to have dared who knows what. We felt like adults!
However, I have to admit, there was not that emotion, that magic that my comrades sometimes talked about. Nor the curiosity that pushed my companions to spy on women through the keyhole. What pushed me instead, was to try to steal a glimpse of a naked man. Even my father, when he went to the bathroom, to see how big he was there and... and to dream of having one big like his too, one day.
I must say that growing up I felt a certain sense of uneasiness in feeling different, and this initially led me to isolate myself a bit from my classmates and companions. I got a crush on a classmate, bigger, more developed than me. But, I knew he had to like girls. So, I never said anything to him, but he was my first real love, and for him I felt not only a strong physical attraction. It was enough to sit next to him to get an erection, and I dreamed of him every night, I wrote poetry, then I destroyed it. I daydreamed that he kissed me, caressed me, even became aware of me, accepted me and wanted me. But, I knew it was impossible.
I wanted to have the courage to confess what I felt for him, and I dreamed that one day or another, by some miracle, he would whisper those three little magic words that every lover would like to hear: I love you! But, as you would expect, nothing like that ever happened. In my heart I would have given my life for him. I dreamed of rescuing him from a serious danger, and ending up in hospital, on the verge of dying, and he, grateful, watched over me, hugged me and when I recovered, he kissed me and said: I love you!
When I was seventeen, I decided I had to try again with a girl. A little, to understand how I really was, a little because it was natural to do it. I liked girls, after all. Well, some, at least: the most beautiful and funniest ones. And so I had my first serious history with a girl. Which lasted long enough. She was very pretty, good, cool, and witty. In short, a smart girl.
One day, since she seemed to be very comfortable with me, we hugged each other and kissed. I got excited. But, unlike with my schoolmate, when it was enough just to think of him to get aroused, with her it only happened when we hugged and kissed. With her I had my first complete sexual relationship: it was pleasant, but not very exciting. After a few months, we parted, while remaining good friends.
When I was eighteen, my classmates introduced me to a boy, an old schoolmate who had moved to Brussels and who had returned here for a few days to stay with his grandparents. Even though he was a very handsome boy, tall, dark, with hazel-green eyes, an athlete's body, I did not feel immediately attracted to him. Maybe because I still had not fully accepted how I was.
I remember we went to the disco, all of us together. That evening, watching him dance, I suddenly noticed him and I felt strongly attracted to him. At the end of the evening he offered to take me back home, he had a car. I accepted, though I felt incredibly excited, and struggled to coordinate my thoughts. As he drove, I couldn't stop looking at his beautiful profile, his soft lips. I was dying to kiss him.
At one point, he moved his hand from the gear lever and placed it on my thigh. I felt it almost burning and shuddered, but I didn't move. He slid his hand up and down a little, caressing my thigh. Seeing that I did not object, he became more daring and slowly moved up to rest on my fly where he felt my hard-on. He smiled, but said nothing. Then he changed direction and drove out of Namur, and stopped at the side of the road, in a parking area between the trees. He turned off the engine and we found ourselves in the dark.
He undressed me, and I undressed him, doing incredible contortions. We finally made love! It was very beautiful. Uncomfortable but beautiful. He kissed me on the mouth, told me he liked me very much, whispered sweet words in my ear, while continuing to make love. Unfortunately we met only a couple of times after that night, because he had to go back to Brussels. But now I clearly understood that I liked both girls and boys, but far more the boys.
There you see, Daneel, that's how I understood about myself, how I accepted myself, and those were my first experiences. It took me awhile, but not too long, and anyway, even when I still did not understand if I were meat or fish, I never made a drama out of it. Most likely because my parents had never demonised sex."
Daneel had listened to him, his attention totally absorbed in the story. "But, dad, if my grandparents knew about you, how would they react? What would they say?"
"I do not know, honestly. Probably they took my boys for simple friends, just very close friends, thanks to the few girls that I sometimes courted. It was the end of the sixties, the beginning of the seventies."
"And how did you meet mum?"
"I was twenty-eight and she was only seventeen. Perhaps what physically attracted me to her was her slightly ephebic, vaguely masculine appearance. I don't know. She seemed sweet and kind. I fell in love with her. She was beautiful, with her hair so dark, that you took from her. I met her because she was the cousin of a colleague of mine. It was at his house. Between the two of us a strong sympathy was born. After six months of dating, we decided to get married. A year later, you were born."
"How come no other children?"
"That's how it was. We never took any precautions. You know she's a keen churchgoer, isn't she? "
"But things between you... I mean, physically... everything was alright?"
"Yup."
"I mean, didn't you miss being with a boy or a man?"
"Not so much as to make a problem for myself. Of course, if I saw a handsome man, who was my type, beautiful and friendly, my thoughts turned to him. But it was only ever something purely cerebral and without consequence."
"But you said that mother discovered one day that you had had liaisons with boys, didn't you?"
"Yup."
"And?"
"And as a result I had to go."
"But why?"
"We'll talk about it later. Don't you want to call your Jean-Marie and ask if he can come here?" his father asked, evidently to change the subject.
"But, and you?"
"I'm going for a ride, I told you, I'll be back for dinner, okay?"
Daneel nodded and got up to go and call. He looked at the time. He wouldn't find him at home, so he called him on his mobile.
"Hello, Jean-Marie, I'm Daneel."
"Yes, I recognised the number. How are you? Are you at work?"
"No, I'm home, I had... a few days of leave."
"You're not sick, are you?"
"No. Look... would you like to come over, when you leave work, to my house?"
"You're alone?"
Daneel glanced at his father, and then said, "Yes, my mother and her husband are in Portugal."
"Ah, yes, you told me. Okay, I'll be there about three, or half-past, okay?"
"Great, see you in a bit."
"Are you sure it's appropriate that I come to your house?"
Daneel understood what he meant. "Yes, it is appropriate." he answered with determination.
"Okay, see you soon."
After he hung up, he told his father, "He's coming here, between three and three-thirty. God... what do I tell him?"
"That you love him, you idiot?" his father answered with a smile.
"I'd like you to meet him. I don't even have a picture of him to show you, unfortunately. You know, I did not want mom..."
"Yeah."
"What are we going to do?" the boy asked, lost.
"Embrace each other. Kiss each other."
"But then?"
"Then, it will go as it should go."
"But if... If then... If we do... If something happens, but then... as with the others... "
"Talk to him first, of course, and trust him. Trust yourself and him."
"Him yes, but myself?"
"You have to trust yourself, Daneel. You have to behave spontaneously, naturally. You must be honest with yourself and with him. You must have the strength to achieve what you've missed with him."
"I'm a little scared, Dad."
"I understand, but you needn't be afraid, or rather, you have to overcome it."
"I'm afraid of making mistakes, of losing him. Of behaving badly... Of..."
"Just remember he loves you and you love him. Don't think about anything else. If you really love him, you'll do everything you can to make him happy, and he will certainly do the same."
"Dad, I'm twenty-one, but I feel like I am fourteen years old."
Pauwels smiled, and hugged him tightly. "This is a beautiful thing, believe me."
"But if between him and me... if it happens?"
"You need to be happy and above all not feel dirty."
"Will I succeed?"
"Do you think Jean-Marie is a dirty boy, a degenerate? A pervert?"
"No, oh no!"
"But he is gay like you. So, if he's not dirty, why should you be? And sex itself is not a dirty thing. It can be, when you use violence, when you use the other person as an object, when it is done as a sign of contempt. But it is wonderful when you do it for love. Remember, Daneel, everything is pure for those with a pure heart. "
"And what makes a heart pure, dad?"
"Love. The love of giving, not the love of possession. Because only the first is true love. "
"Dad, I've missed you so much, but... only now do I really realise just how much I've missed you."
"Yet you grew up well, honest, which is the fundamental thing."
"But what a mess inside me! I... I still need you, Daddy."
"You wont need me anymore when you finally have your Jean-Marie. You'll always love me, of course, but you will not need me anymore, because he'll be by your side."
"I'd better start cooking something for lunch then." Daneel said. "Coming to the kitchen with me, dad?"
"Sure."
While he was cooking, from time to time they exchanged glances, and their eyes smiled.
"I didn't tell you, but I'm working in the Quotidien de Namur's archive."
"You mentioned that you work at the newspaper. Do you like it?"
"Yes, the hours are long, but the work is easy. The boss is not bad and my colleagues are pretty nice. The pay is good. I'm putting some money aside. From here it's only one bus. I don't have a car yet, but I don't really need one. "
"Very well, your work may be useful in the newspaper archive."
"Useful, Daddy? For what?"
"Well... so... for many things... You know, sometimes you look for documentation for a topic that interests you and..."
Daneel chuckled.
"What's up?" his father asked him, with an amused look.
"I had a picture of Brad Pitt in my hand, completely naked... I had the temptation to steal it... but I didn't, of course."
"Do you like him, Brad Pitt?"
"Yes, he's not bad looking, but Jean-Marie is more beautiful... even if I've never seen him naked, yet."
Daneel liked being able to talk like this, freely, serenely... and with his father! He felt as if a weight was gradually being lifted from his shoulders.
They went to the table and ate. His father complimented him and Daneel shied away, but it pleased him.
After finishing the meal and cleaning up, Pauwels looked at his watch: "I'd better go now, I'll be back for dinner, okay? Let's say about eight?"
"Yes, dad. Give me your best wishes."
His father hugged him: "You'll see that everything will be all right. I feel it."
"Let's hope so."
His father winked at him and left. Daneel heard the front door close and went into the living room, going over to the window, to watch him walk away, but he didn't see him. A little surprised, he opened the window and looked out, up and down the street. He thought maybe he had gone around the house, into the alley between his house and the neighbour, running parallel with the street, where the bus passed. He closed the window and went and sat down on the sofa.
Looking at his watch, it was two-fifty. Jean-Marie would be here any moment. He felt excited. Excited but also slightly apprehensive.
What would he say to him? Not that he saw his father, because he had asked him not to say anything yet. Would he tell him that he wanted to make love with him? That... that maybe... maybe it was time they tried it, finally? Of course, Jean-Marie would be very happy.
Poor Jean-Marie, how much patience he had had with him. Yes, he really had to love him, to be so patient.
If mum found out, she would hate me. I must, I have to, decide to leave home. After all, I work and earn sufficient. Jean-Marie works. Between us, we would be able to pay the rent on a small apartment, right? And finally... finally free... free to love each other. As he thought about this, he felt a pleasant warmth, not only due to physical excitement, but above all to the fact that he finally began to see a way out.
Thanks to his father.