This is a story of love between two young men. If you are under age, or live in an area where reading stories that include male to male sex is illegal, or if you're not into this type of story, please leave. The story begins in 1969. While the characters and their story are completely fictional, it is set at places that are real and is told against a backdrop of some real events. This was a time when all sex was safe. It isn't now, so please respect yourself and others enough to always play safe. Comments are appreciated at NJRimzu@aol.com.
Sept. 14
Billy
I'm not quite sure what to think of this weekend. Interesting, strange and uncomfortable don't even begin to describe it. But it was my idea and we survived with our friendship intact, so I guess it wasn't so bad. Because yesterday's game was away, we didn't have to usher, so we had both decided to go home for the weekend-time to do laundry. Then Thursday I had my brainstorm.
"White boy, what are your plans for the weekend?"
"Not much, black boy. Just get my laundry done and hang around the house. I really hadn't thought much about it."
"I just had an idea. How about we do the weekend together? Half at my place and half at yours. We can stay one night at my parent's place and one night at yours. That way we can get a better idea of where we're each coming from. Sort of like a picture worth a thousand words. Seeing my neighborhood, spending time with my parents will probably tell you more about me than a dozen all night bull sessions. And vice versa. What do you think?"
"Sounds like a great idea. To tell you the truth, after two weeks of independence, I wasn't looking forward to all that time being a kid at home again."
"Great! We'll call our parents tonight and let them know. Right now, I've got to go strip for my fans."
"Jeez. I don't know how you can do that."
"I've only done it once and it wasn't so bad. Maybe the first minute, when I took off the robe it was a little weird, but after that, I just didn't think about it. You should try it. It's kind of a cool feeling. Liberating, in a way. And you've got a body that you should be proud of."
God, how easy it is to make him blush. Maybe he shouldn't model-he'd be red from head to toe.
"Back to the weekend-how are we gonna do this?" He was getting good at changing the subject when he was uncomfortable.
"Probably the easiest would be to take the train to Newark tomorrow after our last classes. Then get a bus over to my place. Then Saturday sometime, get a bus back to Penn Station and another bus out to your place. Then Sunday, a bus back to Penn Station and the train back here. Sounds like lots of busses and trains."
"Wow. You've really planned this out. Though Sunday, my parents will probably drive us to Penn Station."
"Well, when I get back from exposing myself in public, we'll call the parents and settle on it."
Danny
Billy's idea seemed great. I really didn't want to go home at all. After all my angst about dorm life, I'd settled in really well with Billy and didn't have any interest in going home. Less time at home and more time with Billy was perfect. Just one problem. In the few phone calls since I'd arrived on campus, I'd told my parents a lot about my roommate, but somehow hadn't mentioned that he was black. Does that show some kind of racism in me, or reflect racism I might perceive and want to avoid in my parents? I'm not sure. I do know that a month ago, questions like this would never occur to me.
Living with Billy has been a source of never ending questions. Physically, he drives me crazy. His body is so perfect. A lot like mine, I think, but better in every detail. But it's more than that. He fascinates me, intrigues me. He seems so sure of himself. So able to handle anything, so in charge of his life, so strong. I want to know everything about him and tell him everything about me. Almost. I wish I could share everything with him, but I could never risk losing his friendship. He's the best friend I've ever had, and I've only known him 12 days. Maybe living together intensifies everything, but still, I've had friends from growing up and Boy Scouts that I've known for years and never felt this close to.
We caught the 3:32 out of New Brunswick to Newark. We were both on edge. I was used to it. Being shy and insecure, I've spent my life on edge, nervous about what was going to happen next, how the next person I met would react to me. But I couldn't understand Billy's nervousness. We were returning to a place he had been king, on top, the leader.
"You know, there ain't no white boys in my neighborhood. You're gonna be a freak and not liked much."
"It's safe though? I mean, no one's gonna hurt me, are they?"
"Not as long as I'm around. It may get a little tense and there may be a bit of fighting, but I think I can keep it under control. "
I looked at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe he was serious, that anyone would try to hurt me just because I was white.
We got out at Penn Station and walked over to the bus lanes. He knew which lane the Springfield Avenue bus would be on, so I just followed along. Riding up Springfield Avenue I was appalled. I'd never been there before, but I knew from the news that it had been the center of the riots two years ago. There were empty lots overgrown with weeds on every block, right in the middle of the city. And so many burned out, boarded up buildings. Now and then a building looking not so bad with a store open, but not often. It looked like the riots had ended last week. We got off at 13th Street and walked the two blocks to his house. It was an old two story, two family house. Billy's family lived on the first floor. The apartment wasn't spacious, but had a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms. I asked how he had grown up there, with only two bedrooms and him having an older sister.
"When my sister and I were little, we shared a room. Then my parents moved my bed out into a corner of the dining room. That's the way it stayed until she graduated from high school three years ago and married her 'soldier boy'. Then I got her room. Thank God. It's a lot more comfortable jerking off in the privacy of your own room than in the family dining room."
"William! Keep that filthy talk to yourself or God will punish you."
Neither of us had seen Mrs. Matthews come out of the kitchen.
"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Matthews."
"Nice to see you too, Danny. Now why can't you be more of a gentleman like your friend here, William? Wouldn't hurt for you to try to pick up some manners from him"
Billy just rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and said, "Whatever you say, Mama."
"I was thinking that Danny could sleep in your room and you could sleep on the couch in the living room."
"Aw, Mama, you know that Pop stays up drinking beer and watching TV until they go off the air on the weekends. My room is okay for both of us."
"But you've only got a twin bed, no where near big enough for two."
"It's a lot bigger than our dorm beds. We'll be fine."
We took our stuff into his room as his mother announced that his father would be home any minute and supper would be on the table shortly. Billy took his dirty clothes down to the basement to wash and I went into the kitchen to see if I could help Mrs. Matthews with anything.
Billy
God, it was horrible being home. In two weeks on a beautiful campus, I'd almost forgotten what Central Ward looked like. And Danny looked horrified looking out of the bus windows at the neighborhood. And then Mama, treating me like a little delinquent sinner. And God knows what Pop will be like when he gets home. He hates whites more than me and is rougher and cruder than me. I think he could actually bring Danny to tears if he had a mind to, and he probably will. I was still in the basement when I heard his footsteps overhead.
As I rushed up the stairs, I heard Mama introducing Pop and Danny.
"So how's your slumming going, boy? Getting a kick at seeing firsthand how you folks have kept a whole people underfoot?"
Danny was speechless. He's so easily intimidated, so insecure, so unable to respond to any kind of personal attack. So I jumped in.
"Pop, Danny is a guest in our house. And he is my friend. If you try to get to know him, you'll see that he is a great guy who just happens to be white."
Danny surprised me by speaking up, very quietly, "Mr. Matthews, I'm pleased to meet you and I'm sorry if you think badly of me. I have to plead ignorance on racial issues. I've grown up in a white community that hasn't taught me much about the black community. Billy has been my teacher and friend the last two weeks and I'm grateful to him for putting up with my lack of knowledge."
"Billy??!! For almost eighteen years it's been William, and you let this white boy belittle you with Billy?"
"Pop, you don't understand. I insisted on William because I was trying to prove something. Around Danny, I don't have to prove anything, so it feels right for him to call me that."
'Supper's on!" Mama jumped in to change the subject. After we were all seated, she asked, "Danny, would you like to say Grace?"
Danny looked lost. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Matthews, we don't say Grace at home and I really don't know what to say."
"Very well, I'll take care of it, as usual."
After Grace, Mama began interrogating Danny about his religious background.
"So what religion is your family, Danny?"
"My mother's Presbyterian and that's what I was raised. I went to Sunday school every week until last year when I started working weekends."
"And your father?"
"He doesn't go to church. Sometimes when we visit his family, I go to church with my grandmother, but I'm not sure what kind it is, Evangelical something or other."
"So you're a member of the Presbyterian Church, then?"
"Well, actually, no. When the other kids in Sunday school joined a couple of years ago, I couldn't, because I haven't been baptized."
"Oh my Lord, you're a heathen! Why on earth aren't you baptized?"
"Because my father doesn't go to church and my mother didn't want to stand alone in front of the whole church when I was a baby. She felt that if I wanted to be baptized, I could take care of it myself when I was older."
"So why haven't you?"
"To be honest, it just isn't important to me. I mean, I understand the symbolism behind the ritual, but I know what I believe and I don't need a ritual to reinforce it."
It was a tense meal. Pop was not in a good mood, to say the least. Mama was having trouble believing anyone could be so casual about religion, in spite of her lack of success with Pop. I tried to avoid controversy and steered the conversation toward the food.
"So, Danny, what do you think of real soul food?'
"Everything's very good. Actually, it reminds me of my grandmother's cooking."
"You got a black grandmother?" Mr. Matthews asked in surprise.
"No, sir, but my father comes from Tennessee and I've spent most of my summers there visiting his family. This meal reminds me of the way my grandmother and aunt cook. The black-eyed peas are just like Grandma's."
"Shit, not only white and a sissy, but southern as well. William, I don't know how you can stand it."
"Excuse me, Mama, but Pop, shut your fuckin' mouth! You have no idea who Danny is and how much he means to me. He is my friend, my best friend and you should know me and respect me enough by now to trust my judgement."
It was a pretty silent meal after that. Danny and I helped Mama clear the table while Pop went to watch TV. As soon as we were cleaned up, I took Danny down to the boarded up house where my old gang hung out, anxious to keep Danny away from Pop.
Good intentions, but not a good idea. About two-thirds of the guys there I knew, and they welcomed me back as a long lost brother, though they had resented my leaving in the first place. The new guys eyed me as a legend of the past, wondering if they could make their future rep by taking me on. But the looks they gave Danny. He was definitely there under my protection, 'cause without me, they would have all gone after him. We'd never had a white guy in our place, and none of them liked it. My 'friends' acted as if I had gone mad, taking up with a white boy. The others wondered if all they had heard of my rep was bull. We stayed long enough for us each to have a horrible time, which wasn't very long.
When we got back to the house, Pop was watching TV and Mama had gone to bed. We went to my room without a word, stripped down to our underwear and went to bed.
Danny
Even though we were sleeping together in the same small bed, Billy had a nightmare. We were sleeping back to back when the sound woke me up. I quickly turned around, wrapped myself around him and started whispering assurances in his ear. He stopped moaning just as the door opened. Mrs. Matthews stood in the doorway in her robe, lit from behind by the hall light. I took a chance and left Billy alone, slipped out of bed and went over to her in my briefs.
"He's had these nightmares no one's been able to do anything about since he was a child", Mrs. Matthews began. "Maybe you should sleep on the couch and I'll sit up with him."
"Don't worry. He had a couple at school and I calmed him down. I can take care of it. Do you have any idea what's behind them? He says he doesn't ever remember what they're about."
"No. He never talked about them. Are you sure you can keep him quiet? The noise drives his father crazy. He hates to have his sleep disturbed."
"I'll take care of him. You go back to sleep."
She closed the door and walked away. I got back into bed with Billy, wrapped my arms around him and, hesitantly, kissed the back of his neck.
We awoke in the morning to the smell of sausage patties frying. I threw on some clothes and while Billy headed for the shower I followed my nose into the kitchen.
"I swear, Mrs. Matthews, if I closed my eyes, you could be my grandmother. Though when I open them, I can see you are so much younger and prettier than she is."
"Don't think your smooth talk and flattery is winning me over. Though I'm happy that you ended William's nightmare last night. I'm bothered by your influence over him. You seem so innocent, but, knowing your background and seeing the effect you have on my son, I have doubts."
"Influence? Me have influence over Billy? No way. We're learning from each other, teaching each other. And having a lot of fun becoming great friends in the process."
"I wish I could believe that, but I know my boy. And I don't know you. So, forgive me, but I don't know or trust your motives."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, sure you're friends now because you're stuck with rooming together. But given the choice, you'd probably drop William in an instant and go back to your white friends. You may be just leading him on, making him think he has a friend. You may even have evil motives I can't see yet."
"You're wrong about that, Mrs. Matthews. I am his friend and he's the best friend I've ever had, white or black."
"We'll see."
After a very quiet breakfast, Billy and I got our stuff together and walked up to Springfield Ave. to get the bus.
"Didn't I tell you my parents were a couple of assholes?"
"Billy! That a horrible way to speak of your parents."
"If the shoe fits."
We took the bus back down Springfield Ave. and transferred to the bus for Livingston in silence.
'Danny. I've known you two weeks. I've never known anyone like you and we're as different as two people can be. But you're my best friend, ever. Yet I don't understand you at all. You are so sweet, so innocent, you don't cuss, you always think the best of everyone. You never get pissed off at anyone, no matter how they insult you or mistreat you. Sometimes I feel like screaming at you, "Kick 'em in the balls! Punch them in the gut! Be rude. Fight back! Fuck 'em!"
"Don't think I don't get mad. I do. But hate is such a horrible emotion. I really don't want to ever hate anyone. I come close sometimes. I'm sorry, but I'm close to hating your father. He's just so mean, not just to me, but to you too. He doesn't seem to give you any of the respect or credit you deserve. My father is not emotional, has never been very close to me, but I know he loves me in his own way. And though your mother can be sweet and kind, her religious stuff scares me and I think she resents me."
"Whoa! I totally get what you're saying about Pop, and I know Mama's a little bit obsessed by religion and came down on you pretty hard last night, but what do you mean by that?
I told him about the conversation I had with her before breakfast his morning and we were silent for a while, both lost in thought.
After a few minutes, I noticed familiar surroundings through the windows and started to point things out to Billy. Manicured lawns, professionally landscaped properties, split level, bi-levels. Small offices, little shops.
"How can two such completely different worlds exist less than ten miles apart", I wondered.
I've lived my whole life here and never even seen the kind of place that Billy grew up in, only ten miles away. At Livingston Center, we got off the bus, crossed the street and went around the shops to the parking lot behind. I noticed Billy got quite a few unfriendly stares from passersby.
We got to the back of the parking lot with nothing but woods facing us and Billy gave me a questioning look.
"What? You live in the woods? Where are you taking me?"
"Don't worry, black boy. It's just a short cut."
I led him to the path lined with blackberry bushes that led through the woods to my neighborhood. Once we came out to the street, we were in a typical suburban subdivision of small Cape Cod and Ranch houses and had to walk a few blocks to my house. Going up my street, a number of neighbors were out working on their lawns and gardens. A few gave us odd looks that I'm sure Billy also noticed.
When I pointed out my house, Billy's mouth dropped open at the sight of the car in the driveway-a white '66 Mustang V-8 convertible.
"Is that yours?" he asked incredulously.
"No, it's my Mom's, but I drive it as often as I can. As soon as we get settled I'll take you for a spin."
I have to admit my parent were nice to Billy when I introduced him. They hadn't known in advance that he was black But they were very polite.
"I made up the sofa bed in the rec room for Billy."
"Thanks, Mom. I think we'll both sleep there. That way if we stay up talking, we won't bother anybody."
"You've been together practically 24 hours a day for 2 weeks. How could you have that much to talk about?"
"I don't know, we just talk. There's always something new to learn about each other. And then there's politics and social issues, too."
"Well, I guess that's a lot of what college is about, but we're paying for your classes, so you'd better be paying some attention to them as well."
"Don't worry, Dad. I go to my classes." (Well, most of them.)
I gave Billy a brief tour of the first floor-we were already in the living room, then the small eat-in kitchen, my parent's room, the bathroom (important reference point) and the rec room we had added onto the back of the house 6 years ago. It was my favorite room, partially because I had designed it (in my 'when I grow up I'm gonna be an architect' phase.) It was the biggest room in the house, had a fireplace, TV, console stereo and my favorite, a pool table.
Billy's eyes opened wide when he saw the pool table.
"Shit, you said you weren't rich, but look at his room, the fireplace, the pool table. Man, I never even let myself dream about a pool table of my own."
"First, it's second-hand. Second, it's not even slate and it's warped a bit. Though I have to admit, I love it. I spent all my spare time in high school in this room, listening to records, playing pool. While you were out beating up all your friends."
"Hey, different strokes for different folks. Though I might have stayed home more with something like this."
"Well, come upstairs and see my room and then we'll go for a ride."
I took him upstairs and showed him my room. Small, with sloped walls under the roof. My sister Sue's room across the hall was a little bigger, but was off limits.
Back downstairs, Billy said, "C'mon white boy, show me what that car can do."
"Mom, I promised Billy a ride in the Mustang. We'll be back in time to eat."
"You've been away two weeks and after five minutes home you're taking off again?"
"I promise we'll stay in tonight and tell you all about college life. But we've only got a couple of hours of top down weather left."
"Okay, be careful."
We put the top down and pulled out of the driveway. Billy had a huge grin on his face like I'd never seen before.
"Man, this is great. I've never been in a convertible before."
"I learned to drive in it and spent every day off this summer just driving around, exploring, going anywhere, just driving. I love it."
I thought I'd impress Billy and take him through some of the really nice neighborhoods in town. Impress wasn't the word.
"Shit, I didn't think there were places this nice outside of Beverly Hills."
"This is nothing. Tomorrow morning I'll take you over to Short Hills in the town next door. That's where the real rich people live."
When we got home, we had some time before supper, so we decided to toss a football around in the street. Once I threw it over Billy's head and it bounced into Mr.Vernon's yard, across the street. Billy went to get it out of the bushes when fat old Mr. Vernon came rushing out toward him.
"Get off my property, nigger boy! Get away from here!"
Horrified, I ran over to introduce them.
"Mr. Vernon, this is my roommate from college, Billy Matthews. Billy, this is Mr. Vernon."
He tossed the ball to me and ordered, "Don't come near here again."
Billy and I went inside and decided pool was a little more comfortable.
"What's he all about? Typical racist, from the sound of it."
"I never thought of him that way, he was always nice to us kids. But he always had nasty comments about other kinds of people. But they were people I didn't know. I always thought he was just an old crank. But he's really a racist. I've heard him say the 'n' word before, but I never identified it with a real person before."
'The 'n' word? You mean nigger? Can't you even bring yourself to say the word? What kind of Pollyanna world do you live in?"
He'd never spoken so sharply to me before. I couldn't see what I'd said to make him so mad.
"Things are more complicated that you make them out to be. It's not a black and white world. There's lots of gray. My Dad is from Tennessee and voted for Wallace last year, yet I have never in my life heard him say the 'n' word. He works with black people and talks about them the same as the whites he works with. And my grandparents down South, with their lack of education, I'm sure they have tons of prejudice. And yet I don't remember hearing either of them say a hateful or prejudiced word about blacks, though I'm sure you'd pick up on and be offended by some of the things they say. I'm sure they have lots of prejudices but they are so poor they spend all their time trying to get by and can't really be concerned about others. Lots of what they say are idioms passed down from one generation to another without any thought. Your father thinks my being half southern makes me akin to slaveholders, but in truth, no one in my family down there has ever even owned a house, much less slaves."
Billy
Danny and I have had a lot of discussions about race, but none had hit quite so close to home as this. He didn't defend racism, as I knew he couldn't and wouldn't, but he sort of excused it. He was straddling a fence and didn't really understand. Something we're gonna have to work on. I've got to admit this is a beautiful town and I envy his having grown up here. But I've never seen such a white place in my life. New Brunswick has a large black community and even Rutgers is fairly integrated. But in nearly an hour of driving around town, I didn't see one face that wasn't white. To give him credit, for someone who has grown up in a place like this, he's got a pretty open mind.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't accusing you of anything, or attacking you or your family. I know we agreed in the beginning to take each other on faith, to trust in each other's tolerance and good will."
"I'm sorry, too. I should be more sensitive. I can't possibly know what things like that do to you or how often you've had to put up with that. But don't jump all over me because I don't use that word. It's so ugly. I can't stand to hear it. You know I'm a real prude with language anyway."
"That's true. I've been trying to get you to cuss for two weeks know and can't get anything worse than heck or darn out of you. But I'm not giving up."
"Does that mean we're still friends?"
"Think I'm gonna give up on my only white friend so easily?"
Then I shocked him and myself by crossing the room to him and hugging him tightly. It felt so good to hold him in my arms, but I had to be careful to limit it to just a couple of seconds.
"What was that for?"
"Just that you're my best friend and I don't want to lose you. I think we've got something special and need to work hard to keep it. Now let's play some pool. I'm gonna whup your ass, white boy."
"Don't bet on it."
We played five games and he beat me four times. I couldn't believe it.
"I know you have your own table white boy, but I've been hangin' out in pool halls for as long as I can remember. How did you do that?"
"Remember, I told you it was a cheap table. It's got a warp to it and I know how to play the warp. On a good table you'd probably have my butt every time."
Now there's a thought to keep my mind occupied.
"Supper, boys."
While eating I tried to be on my best behavior, though I did let one 'white boy' slip out and saw Mr. and Mrs. Stephens exchange startled looks. Danny returned the comment with 'black boy' which seemed to confuse them more. After dinner, we spent about an hour in the living room talking about our first two weeks at school.
"So when do you think you'll be coming back up to visit, son?"
"My birthday, I guess, three weeks from tomorrow."
"No shit!" Oops. Gotta watch that.
"Why are you surprised?"
"'Cause my birthday's three weeks from yesterday. I'm two days older than you. Now I can call you baby boy in addition to white boy."
More odd looks between his parents.
"Why don't we do that weekend like this one? Friday at your parents' for your birthday and then come up here for mine? Is that okay with you, Mom and Dad?"
"If that's what you want to do, son."
Mom added, "What do you want for your birthday?"
"Cash would be nice. A little extra spending money would be great to have for things that come up". I was surprised that he would come right out and ask his parents for money but I knew they had always controlled every penny he earned. And that he wanted stuff he couldn't afford, like things at the head shop on George Street we browsed in but rarely bought anything in.
"If you're strapped for cash, baby boy, maybe I could ask Dr. Adams if he could use more help."
Danny turned crimson, which his parents both noticed.
"What's that about?"
Danny quietly explained that I had a part-time job "assisting" one of the art professors. I sensed his embarrassment and decided I wasn't going to let him off that easy.
"I model for a couple of art classes a week, Mrs. Stephens. Gets kind of chilly at times, but pays the bills."
His parents looked a bit shocked, but said nothing.
"Why don't we go play a game of pool and let my parents watch TV?" Danny was getting more uncomfortable by the second and it was fun watching him squirm. But I was tired of watching my language and was ready to escape with my white boy to a room where I could be myself, so I agreed.
After a great night's sleep (God, it is so good sharing a bed with that beautiful boy), I was going through my morning routine in the bathroom when I overheard a conversation between Danny and his mother in the hall.
"It's just that your Dad and I don't think he's a good influence on you."
"What do you mean? He's a great guy and a great friend. I've never enjoyed being with anyone as much as Billy."
"But he's so rough and crude. The way he talks to you and the things he calls you. And he seems to dominate you and push you around a lot."
"Are you serious? Sure he's tough on the outside. If you saw where he grew up, you'd know that he had to be to survive. But underneath is a really good person. And I just don't get this pushing around thing. We tease each other, that's all."
'Well it just seems that he's got a lot of influence over you and none of it good."
"He's my friend, so let's just drop it."
The Stephens were polite to me the rest of the day, but I'll have to admit I was relieved when they dropped us off at the train station later in the afternoon.
As soon as we were on the train, Danny asked me what was wrong. I guess we're getting pretty good at sensing each other's moods. I told him I had overheard the conversation that morning. He got very agitated for a minute.
"They really pissed me off about that. But don't worry about it. They're just overprotective and they'll like you when they get to know you."
"Hey, I think we're making progress. You said pissed. Bet that was your first time. I'll have to wash your mouth out with soap when we get back to the dorm.