Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2015 14:14:22 -0500 From: Andrew Phillips Subject: He and I (Part 23) Dear Readers: Here is another episode of "He and I" adding a new narrator. This and all episodes are copyrighted. Please give me feedback so I can help fulfill your desires in future episodes. Also remember that Nifty needs your donations so it can provide of us these stimulating (hopefully) stories. *http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html* Thanks, Drew ======================================= Part 23 — I was taught... [Author's note: I am adding an additional narrator, Tommy.] Tommy: My life is pretty simple and not especially happy right now, but hopeful. When I first came to town in the junior year of high school I knew no one. Only Andy Johnson even talked to me at first. Andy was a stunningly handsome guy who was on the swim team and, once he learned that I was a swimmer at the last high school I attended, he got me to try out for the team. Luckily they didn't have many breaststrokers so I was able to join the team. There were lots of things I liked about the team. First I liked belonging to a group, even though my shyness kept me from getting to know any one of them very well. Second, I really liked the exercise. It released a lot of the pent-up anxiety I had. And finally, I enjoyed the view. Since I was a kid I always like looking at men, the less clothes they wore the better. I don't really know why that was, but there it was. The summer after I graduated I missed the swimming so I joined the local intercity swim team. I was happy to see that my old coach, Mr. Allcock, and my first acquaintance, Andy Johnson, were also part of the team. But there were a lot of new guys and one of them, Tim Weaver, really attracted me. Not just his looks, but his spirit was what really appealed to me. He was outgoing, just the opposite of me. At first that attraction led me to just wanting to be with him, to hang out, to be pals. I didn't know how to, well, introduce myself without feeling foolish, so I asked Andy if he could help. Andy realized that Tim, he, and me were three-quarters of the medley relay team and arranged a get together of the four of us (including a new guy, Jim McClain, a great crawler) at the local pizza joint. It was there that I realized Tim was into baseball, more specifically the local pro team, the Martens. And so was I, and he, that is Tim, invited me to go to the next home game. We went and had a great time, even meeting the "hot" new second baseman, exchanging high-five's at every Martens' hits. The Martens pulled out a close victory and he and I went back to Tim's place, relived every inning of the game, watched a movie on TV, had some beers, and had a great time. He got me talking and laughing and I forgot my shyness around him. Whenever Tim touched me, even just by chance (an arm around my shoulder, just sitting side by side, touching my arm when making a point), I felt a rush of emotions, a weakness that spread throughout my whole body, a desire to surrender myself to him, a sense of willingness to be whatever he wanted me to be. Or were those contacts just by chance? Were they conscious or unconscious on his part? I didn't know. I only knew what they did to me. What did he want me to be? Surely a friend, I hoped. But perhaps more than that. I really didn't know what he had in mind. Maybe he didn't know either. Whatever, he was always upbeat but kinda superficial, not wanting to explore our relationship beyond "having fun." I think he liked being with me and I sure liked being with him. In fact, I was feeling that I'd like to be more than his pal, if you get my drift. I'm not sure I even knew what my drift was. Every time he looked at me and smiled I felt some kind of, I don't know, longing to hug him and kiss him. But I was taught that men don't hug and, God forbid, kiss. My father was military and I can't remember him ever hugging me. We shook hands! I hugged my mother, but I can't remember my parents ever hugging each other. I always addressed my father as "Sir." I suppose he loved me, though probably didn't like me very much, but he never showed much emotion. I spoke with Andy the other day and I think he sensed that I wanted to be more than just a pal of Tim's. Time would tell. Meanwhile our relay team was doing really well, every practice beating the time before as we perfected and coordinated our exchanges. And this week offers me time with Tim, since there are a couple of Martens home games he invited me to. Andy: Summer was settling into a rhythm: jog (yes, really jogging), work, swim practice, gym, eat & sleep, repeat, repeat, repeat. This week was one of preparation for the swim meet on Sunday in Springfield. The relay team was getting smoother and faster at every practice. Probably all this busyness prevented Sean and I getting together, though he never forgot to scratch his right ear when he was around. Sean: Busy, busy, busy. Hardly a moment to think of Andy during this last week. Everybody was doing his thing. The relay team was making really great progress and they all seem upbeat, except maybe Jim, who was sort of arrogant and aloof, though very, very fast. I was looking forward to Saturday, when I agreed to take Andy to Springfield the day before the meet. I had hoped we'd be able to room together, but he had made some sort of arrangement with a member of the other team, a Chad, a diver, and a fellow incoming freshman. We'd at least have the drive together. I remembered fondly, or rather lustily, our last trip. Finally the exhausting week was almost over.