This story may occasionally include explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adult males.  If you are underage or it is illegal to view this for any reason, consider yourself warned.  If you find this material offensive, please leave.

 

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to people, living or dead, is entire a coincidence. As the author, I retain all rights to this story, and it cannot be reproduced or published without explicit consent from me.  This work is copyright © 2015 by Steven Wells.

 

I love to hear any feedback you have, be it positive or negative.  Send me an email with any comments or questions at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.

 

Sam and Chris

Previously

 

"President," Harrison added. "You could be President of the United States some day! And we will all be able to say we knew you in college. We will be celebrities. We can write best-seller books about the guy we knew in college who became President. We will be worth a fortune!"

 

"Calm down, Harrison," Tom said before he turned his attention to the group. "He's been like this ever since he gave up the vodka. He overthinks things."

 

"Better than not thinking about things," Sawyer said. "At least he's sober!"

 

"Yea," Harrison said to Tom. "See! I'm making positive moves. I'd better start writing tomorrow before I forget all of the happy times we've had in college! I could even write about some of the skeletons my family has buried."

 

"I don't believe your family will be supportive if you start writing about all of the family secrets," Tom replied.

 

"He takes all of the fun out of my ideas," Harrison said as he leaned over and kissed Harrison on the cheek. "Promise us you will hire Glen, Tom, and me to do your website for your campaign."

 

"A little premature," I said. "But, if we get to the point of a campaign, you will definitely have the job. Besides, the family secrets could be more fun to read than my running for President!"

 

Chapter 64: Big Data

 

"I cannot believe I am letting you do this, Chris," I said to him. "This is absurd."

 

"You would turn your back on an injustice like this," Chris responded. "You can't abandon all of your guiding principles. You can't turn and run at the first threat of danger. It's just not right, Sam. It's not right... Here we are."

 

Chris opened the door and I begrudgingly followed him inside.

 

"Welcome to Kozy Kitty Cat Shelter," the perky receptionist greeted us. "I'm Derik. I'm a volunteer here. How may I help you this afternoon?"

 

"I'm Chris Williamson," Chris said to Derik. "This is my husband Sam Williamson. Our neighbor told us you had a cat similar to the one we have at home. Her name is Rascal."

 

"The cat's name is Rascal?" I said loudly. "Who in their right mind would name a cat Rascal?"

 

"I did," Derik replied. "When she was brought to us, we didn't know her name. So, I named her Rascal."

 

"Sorry, Derik," I said. "The name Rascal just didn't seem like a cat's name is all. I will try to be more understanding."

 

"So, would you like to meet Rascal?" Derik asked.

 

"Yes," Chris replied. "I wanted to come here right away before Sam had a chance to change his mind."

 

"Not a cat lover, huh, Sam?" Derik asked.

 

"I like cats," I replied. "We have one at home. We also have five Border Collies. We can be certified as a zoo if we decide to adopt Rascal."

 

"Then add two boys who are about 3 months old as well as our son, Donny, who is 4," Chris explained.

 

"Holy shit!" Derik replied. "You must keep really busy. Follow me, and I will introduce you to Rascal."

 

"Oh jeez," I whispered to myself.

 

We stopped at a cage near the middle of the shelter. And, there was Rascal. Strutting her stuff while she rubbed the cage with her body, purring, and looking at Chris then me with her big piercing eyes.

 

"She could be Matilda's twin!" I exclaimed. "How old is she?"

 

"The vet believes she is around 2 years old," Derik replied as he unlocked the cage. He pulled Rascal out with little resistance. Her purring became more intense when Derik handed her to Chris.

 

"Same age as Matilda," I added as Chris handed Rascal to me. "Okay, Rascal. What do you like to do in your spare time?"

 

"Meow," Rascal replied.

 

"She just said she likes to lay in the sun, eat, and lay in the sun," Derik replied.

"Just like Matilda," Chris replied. "How does introducing a second cat into a one cat household work?"

 

"It shouldn't be a problem, unless one of them has some serious psychological issues," Derik replied.

 

"Matilda is a fairly docile cat as long as she gets her food and clean kitty litter," I explained.

 

"Then, you're all set to adopt Rascal," Derik responded.

 

"What do we need to accomplish so we can take her home?" Chris asked. He avoided looking in my direction.

 

"First item on the agenda," I began, "is to ask me if I want to take her home."

 

"Do you want to take Rascal home and have her assimilate into the family?" Chris asked. He was smiling as Rascal curled up in my arms and did what cats do. She slept.

 

"I know I should say `no'," I replied. "But, I can't say `no'. Not to you. Not to Derik. And not to Rascal."

 

"Terrific," Derik said as he motioned for us to follow. "Please follow me to the adoption room, and we can get started with the paperwork."

 

Thirty minutes later, we were on our way home with Rascal.

 

"We signed more papers than we did when we bought the house. She's a cat!" I said to Chris as he started the car.

 

"They wanted to make certain she had a nice home," Chris replied.

 

"I feel like we are running a boarding house for pets," I added.

 

"Sam and Chris's Pet Motel," Chris said with a smile as we pulled into the driveway.

 

We had stopped at the pet store to buy Rascal her very own cat carrier, cat bed, and cat food dish. Rascal will be sharing the cat litter and cat water bowl with Matilda.

 

"We're home," Chris yelled as he we entered the house from the garage. I set Rascal's cat carrier on the floor, unboxed the cat bed, put Rascal's cat food dish next to Matilda's cat food dish, and waited for the arrival of the troops.

 

"Daddy! Daddy!" Donny exclaimed as he bounded down the stairs. Five dogs and one cat followed closely behind. All of them except Matilda slid to a stop on the hardwood floors of the kitchen. Donny eyed the cat carrier. "What's that?"

 

"A cat carrier," I said. "We have a surprise for you."

 

I opened the cat carrier door and pulled Rascal from her confines. "Donny, this is Rascal. Rascal, this is Donny. We also have Lincoln, Roosevelt, Simon, Winthrop, Wallaby, and Matilda."

 

The dogs sat on the floor with their tails sweeping the floor. Matilda looked shaken and held back from the crowd of dogs and people. I took a chance and put Rascal on the floor. Matilda slowly moved toward Rascal. Rascal slowly moved toward Matilda. When they met in the middle of the floor, I expected to see fireworks. Instead, the sniffed, purred, and began rubbing one another. It looked like a dance. Matilda moved while the Rascal stood still. Rascal moved while Matilda stood still.

 

"A cat dance," I said as I watched the two cats. "Do you think they really might be sisters, Chris?"

 

"Anything is possible," Chris replied. He, too, stood mesmerized by the dancing cats.

 

"They know one another," Donny explained.

 

"How do you know they know each other?" I asked. I was sort of afraid of what I might hear.

 

"Matilda told me," Donny replied. "They are sisters."

 

"Oh!" I said.

 

------------------------------

 

"You did what?" Sawyer asked as we sat at the pasta place after our workout.

 

"We adopted another cat," I replied. "Her name is Rascal. The new cat looks exactly like Matilda. Donny believes they are sisters."

 

"Why does he believe they are sisters?" Glen asked.

 

"Matilda told him," I replied.

 

"Holy fuck!" Harrison exclaimed. "You are nuts, Sam! It's perfect if you decide to run for Congress. Absolutely perfect! You can't lose, Sam. You have a son who talks to cows, dogs, and cats. Perfect!"

 

"He might be gifted," Tom added. "If you decide not to run for Congress, maybe Donny can take up the cause."

 

"Speaking of causes," Sawyer changed the subject. "How are you doing with the Green Star Peace Initiative?"

 

"We are in discussion phase," I replied.

 

"They want Sam to go on a speaking tour," Chris explained. "Chicago, New York, Boston, Atlanta, Dallas, LA, San Francisco, Seattle, Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal. Two weeks."

 

"What would you be speaking about on this speaking tour?" Harrison asked.

 

"The atrocities committed to gay and lesbian people around the world in the name of religion and backward governments," I explained. "Green Star Peace Initiative is making a video with interviews with some of the men and women who have escaped. The interviews would be part of my talk."

 

"What would your role be in this speaking tour, Chris?" Glen asked.

 

"Staying home with the kids," Chris said with a smile. "And the dogs. And the cats. And whatever other animals we collect."

 

"No more animals, Chris," I replied.

 

"Yes, Sir," Chris replied.

 

"I hate the thought of being on this tour without my family," I explained. "Two fucking weeks." Eleven fucking cities."

 

"If we had our own jet, we could come with you, Sam," Chris added.

 

"No more animals. No more talk about jets," I almost screamed at Chris.

 

"You said no more cats and you brought home another cat," Sawyer snapped. "You might change your mind about getting a jet after you ride around the country in coach. It will be good therapy for you. Getting to know your fellow passengers. Like a lady who is so big she took up two seats but only paid for one. It would be your luck, Sam, if you had the center seat next to her. You could be really friendly with her."

 

"Stuff it, Sawyer," I replied.

 

------------------------

 

We decided to pre-launch my speaking tour for the Green Star Peace Initiative at the Gay and Straight Alliance at school. I had talked several times with the President of the organization about my engagement with Green Star Peace Initiative. Derik Chapman, yes, the volunteer at Kozy Kitty Cat Shelter, turned out to be just as passionate about LGBTQ injustices as he was homeless cats.

 

Mrs. Graham volunteered to stay with the kids while Chris and I attended the meeting. I wanted to see the group in action.

 

"I'm glad you could make it to a meeting, Sam," Derik welcomed us as we walked through the door. "Sam tells me Rascal has adapted fairly well to her new environment, Chris."

 

"Yes," Chris replied. "Rascal has the left window in the living room. Matilda has the right window. And, when they are not sleeping in the window seats they occupy the top of the sofa back. Rascal on the left. Matilda on the right. They both sleep with Donny and Simon. And, yes, they both sleep at the foot of the bed. Simon in the middle. Rascal on the left. Matilda on the right. Do you think they have developed a pattern?"

 

"At least they don't fight over the same space," Derik replied.

 

"We have raised very civil cats," Chris said with a smile. "Unlike one unnamed politician running for President."

 

"Cool!" Derik said as he turned his attention to me. "Sam, I would like to introduce you during our meeting and tell the group a little about the Green Star Peace Initiative and your upcoming talk. I think a little advance publicity will be terrific for the actual talk. I hope you don't mind, Sam."

 

"I'm okay with the introduction," I said.

 

"Good!" Derik replied. "Let's get started with the meeting."

 

The meeting started, business discussed, and future events explained. Derik added, "And, I am extremely excited to have someone who is part of the Green Star Peace Initiative here with us tonight. Sam, could you please stand so everyone knows who you are."

 

"Sam Williamson and his husband Chris Williamson are both students here at UIUC," Derik began. "Sam and Chris were both instrumental in founding the HomeFront organization in Chicago which helps homeless, LGBTQ teenagers find suitable housing. Sam has offered to share information about the Green Star Peace Initiative, which is a national organization dedicated to righting civil rights violations throughout the world. We plan to host the presentation next month. Naturally, because this is an important cause, I hope we can band together to promote this talk to the entire campus. Sam wanted to pre-launch his speaking tour for us. So, please come forward and volunteer to make this presentation a huge success. Thank you for your time. This meeting is adjourned."

 

Several people greeted Chris and me as we made our way to the front of the room".

 

"Mr. Williamson," a tall blonde girl stopped us. "I'm Jennifer from The Daily Illini student newspaper. May I have a moment of your time?"

 

"Sure," I replied. "How can I help you this evening?"

 

"I am hoping to interview you for a story in the paper," Jennifer explained. "I believe the Green Star Peace Initiative would be of great interest to our readers. So, if you could spare 30-minutes sometime this week, I would be delighted to speak with you about the initiative. Here is my card. Please contact me with your availability. I believe this could be a really interesting article."

 

"Thank you," I said. "I'll send you an e-mail tomorrow after I look at my schedule."

 

"I'm looking forward to speaking with you," Jennifer said before she slipped out the door.

 

Derik captured us before we left the meeting room, "Sam! Everyone at the meeting signed up to volunteer to publicize the event and help at the actual event itself. I've never seen this much interest in any of our events."

 

"Terrific!" I replied. "It helps me to know people are interested. I was just a little intimidated by taking on this project because of the importance of the cause as well as the potential size of the audience. I did one press conference when we launched HomeFront. I swore I would never get involved with the public side of any organization or cause. And, here I am now, about to embark on an eleven city tour over the course of two weeks!"

 

"You'll be a hit," Derik replied. "I'll be in touch with more details as we flesh out the event."

 

"Thanks, Derik," I said as Chris and I prepared to leave.

 

"Nice group of people," Chris said after we were outside. "It's exciting to see the interest in your talk."

 

"You're not the one who will endure a tour across the country," I replied. "You will be sitting at home in our cozy house with the kids, dogs, and cats clamoring to get your attention."

 

"But, you get to fly off to stardom while I sit at home taking care of our daily lives," Chris replied. "I will be just another token pretty face while my man gets all of the attention."

 

"All of this talk about traveling has gotten me feeling a little frisky," I said to him in my 'come fuck me' voice. "Do you think we could manage to slip downstairs to the guestroom and make out?"

 

"We'll figure out something," Chris replied. "We always do. Remember before we renovated the condo in Chicago, we managed to christen every room. We need another project with similar goals."

 

"Even the kids' bedrooms?" I asked in mock horror.

 

"If they aren't in their room at the time, why not?" Chris asked.

 

"I see your point," I replied. "Let me think about this for a moment... We have a lot of rooms in the house."

 

"We have the rest of our lives to finish our project," Chris said. "We will, I am certain, manage to repeat the project as often as necessary."

 

"You're on," I replied as we walked through the front door.

 

"You're home earlier than I expected," Mrs. Graham said. "Everyone is asleep I think. The dogs are in place. The cats just went upstairs to Donny's room. I can stay a while longer if there is something you want to take care of."

 

"Ahhhh...," Chris began. "We need to look at some potential changes to the guest rooms downstairs. Could you hang out for 45 minutes or so?"

 

"Of course," Mrs. Graham said quietly with a smile.

 

Chris took my hand and led us to one of the downstairs guest rooms. As we slipped inside, Chris locked the door behind us. Our clothes flew to the air until we were standing in front of one another. Chris pulled me close to him.

 

"I think, Chris," I whispered, "I am going to miss you holding me on this tour more than anything else."

 

"We'll figure out something," Chris whispered back.

 

Chris released his hold on me. I turned and hurried to the bed and positioned myself on my back.

 

"You are a pushy bottom, Sam," Chris said with a smile.

 

"Who says I'm a bottom?" I hissed.

 

"Then, why are you on your back and I am standing here with a very hard dick," Chris said.

 

"Come fuck me, Chris," I whispered.

 

Chris moved on top of me and kissed me once more. "Am I to be your husband or a one-night stand?"

 

"One-night stand," I replied. "I'll see my husband later tonight in our bedroom."

 

-------------------------------

 

Jennifer and I met at the Starbuck's in the Student Union the afternoon after we were introduced at the Gay and Straight Alliance meeting.

 

"Tell me a little about your family," Jennifer said. "I understand you are not a typical college junior."

 

"I grew up in a small town in southern Illinois," I began. "During the first two weeks of my freshman year here, I met the man of my dreams. We moved in together. We adopted two Border Collie puppies in December of my freshman year. He was a junior when we met. He is now in his first year of a Master's program in music composition. Then another border collie, this one two years old and a brother of the puppies, came along. Our son, Donny, was found in some bushes waiting for his drug addict mother to retrieve him. She was found dead in an alley. We got married. Last summer we adopted newborn twin boys. Naturally, twins needed two Border collie puppies to keep them company. Somewhere along the way, we picked up two cats. We all live on a make-believe tree-lined street a few blocks from campus."

 

"You met Derik at the cat shelter," Jennifer added. "Derik said you adopted a wonderful cat."

 

"Rascal is a good cat," I replied. "She and Matilda, our other cat, are, we believe, sisters. They share space. One on the left and one on the right. Everywhere: window, sofa, our son's bed with the dog in the middle."

 

"You and Chris must have a lot of fun together with your boys and their pets." Jennifer stated.

 

"Yes," I replied. "We do. We need to remind ourselves from time-to-time. Otherwise, we would be on a shrink's couch 24/7," I added.

 

"Chris looked very familiar when I met you last night," Jennifer said. "Is he from Chicago?"

 

"Yes," I replied. "He was Christopher Johnson before we were married. His grandparents took him in in his junior year of high school because his father disowned him because he was gay."

 

"Did Christopher sing with his mother at the UCC church in Lincoln Park?" Jennifer asked.

 

"Yes," I replied.

 

"Then, I do know him. His grandparents are Mr. and Mrs. Washington. Now... I understand from Derik you and your husband Chris were instrumental in founding HomeFront," Jennifer said. "Tell me how you got involved with this project."

 

"One day I came across a Mary Schmich column about a gay homeless teenager found dead in Lincoln Park in Chicago," I explained. "I began investigating gay homeless youth and found the problem is not unique to this one boy in one city. It is rampant. Every major city has a gay teenage homeless problem. So, Chris and I helped find funding for HomeFront and found an Executive Director. The program now rescues approximately five homeless LGBTQ teenagers every month. I repeat. EVERY MONTH."

 

"It is also the reason I became interested in the Green Star Peace Initiative," I continued. "When Gloria Rodriquez called, I was definitely not interested because our lives are already on the rollercoaster circuit. But, after Chris and I looked over the organization's website and heard an interview with a gay man in Iraq who struggled to stay alive until he was finally rescued, we knew we had to do something."

 

"Do you come from a family of people who do this kind of work?" Jennifer asked.

 

"My parents have always been champions of worthy causes," I replied. "A lot of their support has been financial. My mother, who was a high school English teacher, took on the Board of Education in my hometown—and won—when I was involved with a gay bashing incident at school. The principal and others tried to sweep the incident under the rug. She managed to take down the principal and the head of the Board of Education. In other words, don't mess with my mother. They were also extremely supportive when my parents' UCC church wanted to hire a Youth Minister who happened to be gay. He has saved so many lives from ruin.

Gay, straight, black, white, it doesn't matter to my parents and their church. I was lucky in the parent situation."

 

"Don't Chris's grandparents fund a nonprofit foundation in Chicago?" Jennifer asked.

 

"Yes," I replied. "They don't broadcast it, but they are instrumental in running the Washington Family Foundation."

 

"As in Thomas and Elaine Washington Student Health Center on campus?" Jennifer asked.

 

"You catch on quickly, Jennifer," I said with a smile. "Mr. Washington went to UIUC for his undergrad degree and law school."

 

"Do you foresee the foundation getting involved with the Green Star Peace initiative?" Jennifer asked.

 

"I believe you can bet on them getting involved somehow," I replied. "I also think you could get a lot of information about Green Star Peace Initiative from the Green Star website."

 

"Thank you, Sam," Jennifer replied. "I believe I could put something together from our discussion. Also, have you ever considered running for a political office?"

 

"Some of my friends have suggested it," I replied. "But, I think I would be happier working in the information technology field. It requires fewer speaking roles."

 

---------

 

My phone rang at 9 am on Friday morning. It was Sawyer, "Hello, Sawyer. What are you doing up at this time of day?"

 

"I've been up and moving since 7 am," Sawyer replied. "I thought I should ask how much you had to pay the Illini reporter to do a story on you and Green Star Peace Initiative?"

 

"What do you mean, Sawyer?" I asked.

 

"Front page," Sawyer said. "Your photo and a story continued into another section of the paper. It not only announced your talk for Green Star Peace Initiative, it also described in detail about your involvement in starting HomeFront. It also said you were on the board of the Washington Family Foundation."

 

"Shit!" I replied. "Did she write about the kind of underwear I wear, too?"

 

"You don't wear any, but she didn't mention underwear," Sawyer replied. "Several sources are quoted, so you can't say she gave you up. She quoted Dr. Washington describing your work with foundation. She quoted Randy regarding your involvement with HomeFront. Last, but not least, Jeffery Harrison-LeBlanc outlined some of your assistance to his projects in your hometown. I'm surprised she didn't quote Donny or Mabel the cow."

 

"Shit!" I replied.

 

"She also elaborated on your family," Sawyer continued. "How you adopted an abandon boy and later took on newborn twins. Oh! She also mentioned your dogs and cats."

 

"I believe I need to find a paper," I said calmly. "Then, I will call Jennifer and ask her what the fuck was she thinking?"

 

"It is really a good article, Sam," Sawyer added. "It puts you and Chris in a good light. If anything, you both sound like model citizens."

 

"I'll see you later, Sawyer," I said. "I need to look at the paper and determine my mood afterward."

 

My phone rang again. It was Chris, "I just picked up today's copy of the Illini. Guess what? You made page one?"

 

"I just talked with Sawyer," I said. "He gave me a synopsis of the article. I am getting a copy so I can determine if, when I call her, I will be angry or happy."

 

"I think you will be happy with the article," Chris replied. "Be calm and stay composed."

 

"Thanks, Chris," I said as I grabbed a copy of the Illini from the pile. "I promise I will talk to you before I go on a rampage."

 

"Good," Chris said as he hung up.

 

I paused and quickly scanned the article. `Not too bad,' I thought as I hurried to my first class.

 

I slipped into our Big Data class and sat beside Glen.

 

The instructor followed me into the room. As he organized his desk, he looked at me. "Great photo and article, Mr. Williamson. You must be exceedingly busy."

 

"Thank you, Sir," I replied. "I didn't expect anything more than a short sidebar. I haven't even read it yet."

 

"I applaud your work with LGBTQ homeless teenagers as well and the civil rights violations in other not so progressive parts of the world," Professor Ing said. "I will probably attend your talk."

 

"Thank you, Sir," I replied. "I hope I don't disappoint with my inexperience is public speaking."

 

"The last time he gave a press conference for HomeFront, Sam wound up live on CNN," Harrison explained.

 

My phone kept pinging from e-mail and text messages all through class. I had turned the volume off. It vibrated nonstop during the one-hour class.

 

When the class ended, I scurried outside and looked at my phone. "Holy fuck!" I said to Glen, Tom, and Harrison. "I have 68 e-mails. And about 102 text messages."

 

"You need a press spokesperson to help you through the day," Glen suggested as he and I split from Tom and Harrison. We went to the CS building and sat in the lounge. "I hope you aren't too overwhelmed with all of the attention you will be getting."

 

"You and me both," I replied.

 

By the time the day had finished, I could only stare at my phone. I had 172 e-mails and 304 text messages. I didn't get more on my phone because it was fucking full. When I walked into the house, I saw Chris and Donny in a quiet conversation at the kitchen island.

 

"So, men," I said with a fake smile on my face. "How was your day?"

 

"Peachy keen," Chris replied.

 

"Disingenuous," Donny replied.

 

"Oh!" I replied. "Do you know what disingenuous means?"

 

"Nope," Donny replied. "I heard it from a teacher telling a parent about her son's suspension."

 

"Disingenuous means not truthful," I explained. "So, you don't want to say your day was disingenuous."

 

"Okay," Donny replied. "I had a good day, Dad. Me and Jay are writing a song for our class to sing at the assembly next week."

 

"You and Jay are writing a song?" Chris and I asked in unison.

 

"Yup," Donny replied. "Matilda helped with some of the words after I got home from school. Simon uses his tail to keep the beat going."

 

"What is this song about?" I asked.

 

"Having two daddies," Donny replied.

 

"How would some of your classmates feel if they don't have two daddies?" Chris asked.

 

"Oh! We never thought about others having two mommies or a mommy and a daddy," Donny replied thoughtfully. "Wait! I have it! Come on Matilda and Simon. We have a song to rewrite."

 

Simon, Matilda, and Rascal bounded up the stairs behind Donny.

 

"I am afraid to ask what the revisions will entail," I added.

 

"Right," Chris said as he pulled me close to him. "So, tell me about your day?"

 

"Today has been a fucking nightmare," I replied. "I have 172 e-mails and 304 text messages on my phone. My phone is now full."

 

Chris's phone began ringing. It was Luke.

 

"Hello, Luke," Chris said into his phone when he answered and put it on speakerphone. "What's happening in Chicago?"

 

"For starters, I have the Chicago Tribune sitting in front of me," Luke began to explain. "Sam made the front page today. Replete with photo. The article continues on page six. I suspect you have just launched a public relations campaign for the Green Star Pease Initiative. Someone from the Illini paper wrote it."

 

"Fuck!" I screamed. "Please tell me this isn't a repeat of the HomeFront announcement!"

 

"It is not a repeat of the HomeFront announcement," Chris calmly said. "It is way, way bigger than HomeFront. This is an International organization."

 

"I did NOT want to hear `way, way bigger than HomeFront,'" I almost screamed at Chris. "Get me the fuck out of this mess, Chris!"

 

"Sam," Luke said quietly. "Why don't you call your contact at Green Star? You can request assistance. Maybe even a personal assistant until this is over."

 

My phone began to chirp; I saw it was Ms. Rodriquez. "Good evening, Ms. Rodriquez."

 

"Good evening to you, too, Mr. Williamson," Ms. Rodriquez said. "We have been swamped here with phone calls and e-mails. Apparently, your school newspaper put this on the AP wire. It has run in the Washington Post, New York Times, and several others. Have you received any calls or e-mails?"

 

"Have I received any calls or e-mails?" I repeated the question. "I had 172 e-mails and 304 text messages. My voice mail is full. My phone is full so I can't get any more e-mails or texts. I am surprised you got through. This is NOT what I signed up for, Ms. Rodriquez. What can we do about getting this to stop?"

 

"Fortunately, the AP didn't run with your phone number or e-mail address," Ms. Rodriquez replied.

 

"Oh, gee!" I said with a little venom in my voice. "What a comforting thought!"

 

"How can we help you Mr. Williamson?" Ms. Rodriquez asked.

 

"I will do a phone dump of my texts and e-mails I received today," I replied. "Then I will send the flash drive to you so your office can do the appropriate follow up. Additionally, I will set my phone to divert all text messages, e-mails, and phone calls, which aren't on my contact list, to you. You can deal with them. Not me."

 

"We would be delighted to help you out, Mr. Williamson." Ms. Rodriquez replied. "Also, if you need to hire a personal assistant, we will pay for the assistant."

 

"I hope it won't be necessary for me to hire a personal assistant, but I will get back to you if I decide otherwise. Now, Ms. Rodriquez, I need to go take care of my sons. So, if you will excuse me, I will hang up this phone. If I need to speak with you, I will call you. Thank you, Ms. Rodriquez." I said. And, I didn't wait for Ms. Rodriquez to speak. I ended the call.

 

"You handled the situation rather well, Sam," Chris said. "I am actually very proud of you. Every time you get involved with a project, you seem to grow and become more assertive."

 

"Thanks, Chris," I said as I kissed him.

 

"No kissy face while I am on the phone," Luke said.

 

"You are still with us Luke," I replied. "What a comforting thought."

 

"I will let you both go do whatever it is you do at this time of day," Luke replied. "But, I agree with Chris. I don't believe there is any junior in college who has the balls you do, Sam! Keep up the good work."

 

With his signoff, Luke ended the call.

 

--------------------------------

 

"Has Green Star set up your tour schedule, Sam?" Harrison asked as we were having lunch at the pasta place after our workout.

 

"It is tentative, but we are leaving on January 8 and continue through January 16. We will be back here in time for classes," I explained. "Then, we are doing another tour over spring break."

 

"Busy boy," Tom added. "What are you doing over Christmas break?"

 

"We haven't thrown this out to our families, but we are hoping to have Christmas in Florida this year," I explained.

 

"Did Sam tell you?" Chris began. "We are all going. Sam, the boys, the dogs, the cats, and me: we are all going. My grandfather is donating the plane for the tour. Ms. Rodriguez has been informed we need to find kid and pet friendly hotels."

 

"Terrific!" Sawyer said. "I'm sure you'd rather be on the beach in Florida, but it actually sounds like fun."

 

"We will see about how much fun it is," I replied. "The test will be here on campus. If I survive the talk here, I believe I can survive the others."

 

"We will be with you for morale support, Sam," Sawyer added.

 

"How is Donny's song coming along?" Glen asked.

 

"He and his co-composer, Jay, have re-written the lyrics," Chris replied. "I promised I would help Donny and Jay with the score."

 

"The jury is still out, but we will hope for the best," I replied. "At least Chris is involved so they won't do something the will be sorry for later."

 

"We are keeping our fingers crossed the pre-school version of the play, We Have Two Daddies, can be stopped before doing any physical damage to the minds of little ones all across the nation," Chris explained. "It can't reach Broadway—off or on. We could be drummed out of the PTA."

 

"You are being dramatic again, Chris" I replied with a smile. "Donny's song may be important to him and his schoolmates, but I have no fear it will reach beyond Donny's school."

 

"As parents, you can't hold back his creative bent," Harrison offered. "You might stifle his inner songwriter."

 

"Oh! Jeez," I replied. "I think it is time I head to my next class. I need to put some finishing touches on my paper on the leaders of the Gay Rights fight."

 

"Who is your favorite Gay Rights activist?" Sawyer asked.

 

"I probably should list Harvey Milk, Troy Perry, and Barney Frank; however, I would lean toward people like Elizabeth Taylor, Larry Kramer, Whoopi Goldberg, Jonathan Groff, Tom Hanks, and Paul Abels" I replied.

 

"Why?" Harrison asked.

 

"They used their celebrity status to provide information to a large number of people who might never have listened to the message about the devastating path of AIDS," I replied. "Don't get me wrong. There are others who fought the battle in the trenches. These six people gave a public face to the pandemic."

 

"Who is Paul Abels?" Tom asked.

 

"Paul Abels began as a minister to the Washington Square United Methodist Church, also known as the Peace Church, in 1973," I explained. "He became the first minister of a main stream church to announce from the pulpit he was gay. It was 1977. He retired shortly before a 1984 national church conference voted to bar actively gay men and women from ordination or service as clergy. He died in 1992 from complications due to AIDS. He was 54."

 

"My father talks about him from time-to-time," Glen added. "You should talk to my dad about Reverend Abels."

 

"Not to change the subject, but I need to run," I said. I kissed Chris goodbye and retreated for my walk to class. "I'll see you at home, sweetie."

 

"Don't give any interviews," Chris said as I left.

 

As I walked to my class, I heard a voice from behind me. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but aren't you Sam Williamson who was at the Gay and Straight Alliance on Tuesday?"

 

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

 

"I'm Rupert, by the way," Rupert said. "I was impressed with your background and your work with various projects. I was wondering if you had a few moments to give me some advice."

 

"Advice on what?" I asked.

 

"My parents and their not out gay son," Rupert said as he looked at the ground.

 

"I have a few moments before my next class," I said. "Can you walk with me to the computer science lab?"

 

"Sure," Rupert replied.

 

"So, are you thinking of coming out to your family soon?" I asked.

 

"No," Rupert replied. "But, I suspect will be outed sometime in the next few weeks."

 

"By whom?" I asked.

 

"By this girl from my hometown," Rupert explained. "She wanted us to get into a serious relationship. We had been dating. I sort of told her I wouldn't have sex with her until we committed to a serious relationship. I was stalling. She told me she wanted to consummate our relationship and become a monogamous couple. I can't bear the thought of having sex with a girl."

 

"Have you had sex with a guy?" I asked.

 

"Yea," Rupert replied. "I was sort of in a relationship with a guy I knew from lifeguarding. He lives in another town a few miles away from my home."

 

"Is the relationship serious?" I asked.

 

"No," Rupert replied. "It was a relationship of convenience."

 

"Okay," I said. "I think we will need more time to talk about this. Here is my card. Call me after 5 pm today, and we can set up a time to talk."

 

"Thanks," Rupert replied. "I'll call you around 5 tonight."

 

As I took my seat in the front row, I noticed a somber looking dude sitting away from the others in the class. He was a tall, probably 6 feet, with wavy black hair combed back. He looked sort of Middle Eastern and probably Hispanic. He sat with his laptop open tapping a pen on the table in front of him. He saw me looking at him, and he smiled. I made a mental note to talk to him if he didn't bolt when the class was over.

 

The instructor arrived to begin the class. As she arranged her materials, I caught another glimpse for Mr. Somber. He smiled at me and shifted in his seat.

 

I lost track of the professor at the five-minute mark. I kept stealing a glance at Mr. Somber. He kept smiling. `Chris will not be happy with me flirting,' I thought to myself.

 

The professor paused momentarily. "So, our next project will be done as a team. You will have two weeks to complete the project." While she talked, she handed out the project description. "If you know someone you would like to have as a partner, please take this time to get settled together.

 

I looked over at Mr. Somber, and he was headed my way.

 

"Hi," Mr. Somber said. "I'm Daniel."

 

"I'm Sam," I replied as I took his outstretched hand and shook. "I don't remember seeing you around before."

 

"I've been here all semester," Daniel explained. "I just melted into the background. I thought it was time I came out to the rest of the class. Wedding ring?"

 

"Yes," I replied. "I met Chris my freshman year here. One thing led to another, and we got married. You?"

 

"I'm just a single gay boy hanging out in computer science classes," Daniel said with a smile. "Relationships and I really don't mix well. My last boyfriend only wanted me for my body. Of course, I got back at him. I was only interested in him for his money."

 

"Who got the better deal?" I asked.

 

"He did," Daniel replied. "He really didn't have as much money as he claimed. My body is way more valuable than what he had."

 

"Do I hear some conceit in your voice?" I asked.

 

"Me conceited?" Daniel replied. "Tell me you jest, Sam."

 

"When do you have time to talk about this project?" I asked.

 

"I am free most afternoons," Daniel explained. "You?"

 

"This is my last class," I replied. "I usually try to get home before Donny gets out of school."

 

"Donny?" Daniel asked.

 

"Our son," I replied. "He's five. We also have two twin boys, five dogs, and two cats. Our house can be a little frantic at times."

 

"And you are what? A junior?" Daniel asked.

 

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

 

"I don't handle chaos well," Daniel replied with a smile. "Actually, I have never really been around five-year-old boys. So, maybe I could handle chaos. I'd be willing to try sometime. What does your husband do?"

 

"He's in grad school getting his Masters in composition," I replied.

 

"How do music majors and computer science geeks get along?" Daniel asked.

 

"We get along splendidly," I replied. "We are polar opposites in some instances. Which makes for some excellent events."

 

"I'll bet," Daniel added.

 

"I will give you a call later. I will see if I can put Chris in charge of the kids tomorrow afternoon."

 

 

To be continued...

 

I am starting a new e-mail list because the previous one contains several incorrect e-mail addresses. You do not need to respond if you have already asked to be place on the new mailing list. If you would like to be on the NEW announcement list for "Sam and Chris," please send an e-mail by clicking here.

 

I've heard from many people about Sam and Chris, and I would like to hear from even more. Comments about this story, whether good or bad, are always welcome. You can write to me at MaWriterBoy@yahoo.com.

 

This is my 64th posting of my first story on Nifty.org.

 

I also have three other stories on Nifty

John's Journey Forward in the `Beginnings' section

Jeffery Comes Home in the `Beginnings' section

 

Life With Tim in the authoritarian section (Please note, this story is not for everyone because there are several scenes depicting Master/slave and BDSM relationships. So, if you are not interested in this activity, please, please do not read this story.)

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