Date: Thu, 20 May 2010 11:08:32 -0600
From: dnrock@rock.com
Subject: Chinook 10

Chinook
by:  dnrock(dnrock@rock.com)


10:  Finding Yourself

Cliff was in grade 7 at Woodman Junior High, a few blocks north and on the
east side of Elbow Drive.  After the first day Cliff took his skate board
along the west side of Elbow, crossing at 87th, which is a signed with
flashing amber lights, cross walk.  Royce made sure to extract a promise
from Cliff, that he would carry his board across Elbow, and only step off
the curb when he could see the traffic stopping for the flahing amber
lights.  Cliff expressed his usual Awh, about this but Royce was firm.

"Calgary drivers manage to kill or injure at least two children a year and
you are not going to be one of them, is that clear."  Royce said in a very
firm tone of voice.  One he keeps in reserve for only the most serious of
admonitions.

Cliff nodded and looking slightly dejected wandered off.  Cliff knew dad
was not being difficult for the sake of it.  He knew Royce's concerns
stemmed from his love and his sense of duty and responsibility.  Like the
riding and bike helmets bit.  He was like all adolescents, just a bit
concerned about what his contemporaries would say.  This was a new school,
new people.  He wondered if dad understood his concerns.  Dad was such an
independent thinker and doer, he was so self confident, so dad-like.

He thought about all of this.  His emotions were running just a bit wild as
he flopped down in a lawn chair looking up in the apple tree.  Cliff
watched the chickadees going about their business of eating seeds from the
feeders.  They would fly down pick up a sunflower seed and fly back to a
branch eat the meat and return to the feeders.  They paid little attention
to him and no attention to the other birds: blue jays, different sparrows
and finches.  When the Magpies and Crows showed up other birds would
scatter, not the Chickadees they just did their own thing.

Cliff studied them for a while.  Tumbler came over to him, placing his head
on his leg and wagging his tale.  Cliff petted the dog, speaking softly to
him.  Tumbler lay down by his chair.  He to paid little attention to the
birds except for the Magpies, which he would chase if they dared to land in
his yard.  The smaller birds were ignored.  Magpies and crows would also be
ignored but for their propensity to tease other animals such as dogs.

Slowly but surely Cliff's mind drifted across the range of adolescent
thoughts, coming back to his social status and the fears of being different
or standing out in the crowd of new grade 7's.  This was a new school for
all of them wasn't it.  Sure, some would know each other from their grade
schools or community sports teams but most of the 200 or so grade sevens,
would be strangers to each other.  Harvey had made sure he would be
properly dressed for grade 7, by taking him shopping for school clothing,
he would not look out of place.

Cliff thought about the contract he and all the students had with the
school.  It was full of nice sounding ideas, such as "all individuals are
valued and respected, all individuals are safe" and so on.  He wondered how
enforceable this really was and how the grade 8's and 9's would treat him
and all the new grade 7's.

The class work would be normal, he thought.  English, Health/Career and
Life Management, Information and Communications, Math, PE, Science, Social
Studies, Ethics, and Environmental and Outdoor Education.  He looked
forward to the academic work now that he realized he could overcome his
perceived learning difficulties.  Now that he had Royce's support.

Cliff mused on all of this, deciding that his best course of action was
simple, just walk the walk.  Cliff's attention was suddenly drawn to
Tumbler who jumped from his sleep and began running across the yard.  Rom
appeared in the back door.

"Dad said, if we eat early we can go for a bike ride around the reservoir
and stop to see Miss. Black."

That was a week ago.  That was like a small eternity to a 12 year old in
grade 7.

Now Cliff was back in the yard on a Friday afternoon.  He was so confused.
Sure the first week of school went well enough.  The work was not that
hard, so far mostly review stuff.  He made a number of acquaintances, 4
boys and two girls, all in most of his classes.  He wanted to do things
with these new friends but he wanted to ride Zephyr too.  He kind of wanted
to hang with the girls, he liked girls and since he didn't see Cindy any
more, since they moved...  He just didn't know what he wanted to do or even
why.

Cliff found himself in the living room pondering the portrait of his
biological father.  He only had vague memories of him.  Mostly of him being
sick.  He could see how much he looked like him, he could almost feel his
eyes watching him.  He knew Clark Rundle must have been a special person,
well his mom always told him he was.  Cliff wanted to cry but he would not
allow himself.

Royce saw his oldest son, sitting in the living room pondering something.
He guessed it was Clark's portrait.  Royce knew this image had power, just
as Jewely's had power.  After all he painted them, he gave them that power.
"It was time," Royce thought, "it was time."  Royce quietly retreated to
his office and retrieved Clark's journal, opened it to the last entry and
just as quietly returned.  Laying the journal on the boy's lap, he smiled
and retreated.  Leaving Cliff alone with his thoughts and this biological
father.

Cliff looked up at Royce and then at the book.  He saw Royce's gentle smile
and expression of love and affection.  Royce just said "its time", the boy
did not speak.  Cliff looked at the book seeing it was hand written and
addressed to him and Rom.  He began to read the clear definite script.  The
passages were short, only about two pages but he read them several times.
He looked up at the paintings the eyes of his biological parents riveting
him.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks and dripping on the page.  He
set the book aside.  Made a silent promise to do what was expected of him
in everything he did, his best.

Royce was sitting in the back yard drinking a cup of coffee when Cliff
came, silently to stand at his side.  Royce opened his arms and the boy,
eagerly sat on his dad's lap pressing his face into Royce's neck.  Royce
engulfed his oldest son in his long arms gently pressing his slim boy body
against his manly daddy chest.  What ever feelings of insecurity Cliff had
melted into nothingness.

"Is it wrong for me to fell alone some times?"

"No Cliff, it's neither right or wrong, it is just the way you feel.  It
would be wrong if you let those feelings sap your will and make you feel
depressed or hopeless."

"Did you know him?"

"No, I never knew him but I did read his journal and Jewely told me about
him.  I'm convinced, that had we ever met, we surely would have been
friends.  He was the kind of man I would be proud to call friend.  The kind
of person I want for a friend."

"Did you read all of his journal?"

"Not quite all Cliff, I did not read the last entry, the one addressed to
you and Rom."

"Why?"

"I read the first sentence or two and realized this was a privet message
from a biological father to his biological son.  It was only written for
you and Rom."

"But how did you know, I mean the painting it..."  Royce stroked the lad's
head.

"The painting has nothing to say except what the viewer brings to it, in
that viewer's heart.  I'm just an artist, all I can do is try and capture a
mood or represent a feeling about the subject's character.  I deal in light
and shadow, not reality.  The viewer supplies the emotions."

"I look like him, will I be like him when I'm a man?"

"Yes you sure look like Clark.  You will be like him in some ways, like
your mom in others and I suspect like me and the other Evers, in other
ways.  We are all some combination of genetics and environment.  I'm not a
carbon copy of my dad but I do look a lot like him."

"When I read his message, I cried, am I a sissy?"

"No Cliff, you are not a sissy because you expressed your emotions.  Crying
is natural and normal biological function.  Tears are very important to the
proper functioning of the eyes.  Strong emotions or pain can also cause
tears to form.  That is the way our bodies are made.  It's a way of purging
excess hormones from our system.  It is the way it is, a normal and natural
thing.  I would suggest, to surpass all emotional pain or crying, is
unnatural."

"Thanks dad, I love you."

"Your welcome son and I love you too.  More than anything in the world.
When you feel up to it and ready for it, you can read the entire journal."

"I know, I think it is probably best if you decide when the time is right.
One more thing, I kind of like, I mean I kind of an interested in a couple
of girls ... and ... uh ... well, we are a gay family and..."

"Oh boy, now you better talk fast." Royce thought.

"Sure it is more than OK for you to be interested in girls.  Cliff, you are
only 12, there is no way you can possibly know what sexual orientation you
will wind up with.  We are not a "gay family" as you put it.  Sure I have
sex with men, you know that.  What you don't know is I have sex with women
too.  I like the ladies as much as I like the men.  I am what is called
bisexual, I swing both ways."

"But you never have any ladies stay over night like Harvey does?"

"Well true enough, to data anyway.  That is not because I don't want them,
just haven't found one I was willing to bring home yet.  As to you, little
man, I don't think you should be having sex with anyone for a few years
anyway."

"Not even Rom?"

"That's different, remember I told you brothers are different and special.
I think when you are ready for sex you will know.  When I say sex I mean
intercourse."

"Then a little hand play with my buddies male or female is okay?"

"Well it is still sex but yes, it is okay, and I should add most natural."

"Natural?"

"Sure it is natural to masturbate, you know that already.  It is natural
for some, not all, buddies to masturbate together, at the same time and
sometimes to even help your buddy or him to help you.  It is natural for
adolescents to experiment with sex.  Just be sure you do it in a safe way.
It is also natural for boys to try and learn about girls and girls about
boys.  That's natural too."

"You mean it is normal to want to kiss a girl and touch her body," Cliff
questioned?

"Sure as hell is, normal for them to feel the same way about boys.  Now
don't misunderstand, for some, the opposite sex is just not interesting.
That is just as normal."

"Is Harvey one of those boys?"

"Yes, Harvey is gay.  Always has been as far as I know.  He just is not
interested in sex with women.  He likes them as friends and companions, not
as lovers.  Junior is not interested is sex with men or boys, except me of
course.  That is the way he is and always has been."

"I'm confused, how come gay people are called all those bad names?  And why
do people say gay sex is unnatural?"

"Good questions, I am not sure I have good answers.  Homosexuality is just
as natural as heterosexuality for those people with that orientation.
Bisexuality is just as natural for me and lots of other people as the other
two.  It is the genetic thing again, one's sexual orientation is mostly
genetic.  The nurture part probably has the strongest influence on us
bisexuals.  Many bisexuals also have a preference for same or opposite
sexes but will go the other way if the opportunity presents itself.  Others
just sit on the fence and take what ever comes.  For me I just can't see
why anyone would, out of hand, reject 50% of the potential sex partners in
the world, just because they are male or female.  That's my take on it
anyway."

"But why do they say such bad things about homosexuals?"

"Fear, stupidity, ignorance, some religious orthodoxy or another, take your
pick.  I think this has to do with power and control.  You know from your
own experience that homosexuals are just as good and nice and competent,
loving and so on, as heterosexuals.  In fact, the homosexuals you know are
better people than a lot of the heterosexuals you have encountered."

"Right, I take it you mean Harvey?"

"Yes, but also a lot of other people you know, you just don't know they are
gay or bi."

"What should I do when they say bad things about them?"

"Say nothing.  Just walk the walk, Cliff.  Refuse to get into the name
calling business, any names for any reason.  The best way to change
someone's behavior or attitude is to demonstrate how wrong they are.  Words
or arguments will not get through but when they realize no one is
listening, eventually they shut up and begin to take notice.  Just be a
friend to those you choose and a respectful acquaintances of the others,
defend the weak and yourself only if you need to."

"Sometimes they say mean and hurtful things."

"True, but remember if they are directed at you, those people give you the
power.  Ignore it or thank them for the complement.  You have the power.
They have power, if and only if, what they say results in some reaction.
It they direct hurtful things toward others, remind those others they have
the power.  If it gets physical you know what to do.

"But isn't it hard to just "turn the other cheek" to not react?"

"Sure it is hard, but anything worth doing is hard.  Remember son, all
anyone expects from you is your best, what ever that is.  As long as you,
being honest with yourself, can say I did my best, then you have nothing to
regret or to ever be ashamed of.  Your measure is internal not external.
How well or poorly others may do is not your guide.  As long as you know
you did the best you could at the time, you should take a full measure of
pride for it."

............

"But Mother I don't think it is all that good an idea."

"Just look out the window, isn't he just he most handsome man you have ever
seen?"

"Mother, you shouldn't spy on your neighbors."

"It's not spying, it's just looking out my kitchen window, here look, he is
in the yard now."

Kathy stepped up to the window over the sink and shaking her head in that,
"I wonder about the old girl", looked into Royce's yard.

Cliff had just gone in the house.  Cliff's sitting on his lap is still one
of the most stimulating things for this man.  His manhood was swelling up
in his tight shorts as he stood and made some minor adjustments.  His round
compact butt strained against the lycra as he bent over to pick up a
pencil.

This was not lost on Kathy.  None of Royce's now quite fit looking physique
was lost on her.  A summer of activities with his new sons hardened his
muscles and improved his aerobic capacity.  Her mother was right.  This man
did give her sticky panties just looking at him.  Her mother could see just
from the look on Kathy's face that Royce was having the same effect on
daughter as he did on mother.

"Mable told me all about him and his two adopted sons, he is single too.
They are such a nice family.  Their mother died this summer.  The boys are
well mannered and very polite.  He is the local artist Royce Evers, you
like his work as I recall..."  She droned on as Kathy studied Royce, and
the boys coming and going.

"Fascinating isn't it?" She agreed and did like what she saw.  She liked
the way Royce interacted with the boys.  She remembered seeing his work at
the Stampede.  Well perhaps she should stay with mom for a few more weeks,
you know, she needs the help anyway.