Bryce

Bryce 46

This story is fiction. The city of Clifton, and the University of Clifton, exist only in my imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. These stories have as their main character a sexually active gay college student. If this is offensive to you, or if it is illegal in your area, or if you are under age, please leave now.

This story involves a search for personal acceptance, worth, and meaning. There is a religious element in these stories. If you don't like that, maybe now is a good time to leave.

My stories develop slowly. If you're in a hurry, this is probably not for you.

Thanks to Colin for editing.

Constructive comments are welcome on my e-mail at pertinax.carrus@gmail.com.

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Bryce, Chapter 46 - Sterling's Visit, Part II

It was not difficult for Bryce to rise early and get to the gym on Monday morning. He had not slept well, wondering whether all the meetings and the like the previous day had done anything to bring about the acceptance he wanted from his father. Sterling had asked lots of questions, and had seemed friendly enough, but had said very little about what he thought of the whole thing. At the gym, Bryce spoke with Curtis about that. He had told Curtis and the other brothers when he asked them to meet with his father that it was about him being gay, so he wondered whether Sterling had given them any idea of where he stood. Unfortunately, Curtis related that it was the same when he spoke with Bryce's father. Questions, but no answers.

Bryce left the gym earlier than usual, and went to wake Damon. Damon must have been more restless than usual as well, as he got up with minimal complaining. They had breakfast, then Bryce went off to fetch Sterling from his hotel. Sterling had breakfasted at the hotel, and was ready when Bryce called for him. He checked out, placing his luggage in the trunk of Bryce's Mustang. The plan was that he would more or less shadow Bryce that day, taking any opportunity to speak with his teachers, and then with Father Miller at what had been Bryce's usual time of 3:30.

Back on campus, Bryce and Sterling arrived at Dumesnil Hall several minutes prior to his 9:00 class with Dr. Anjot. They found the professor in his office gathering his notes for the class. Bryce introduced his father, and asked about him sitting in on the class. That, Dr. Anjot assured them, would be no problem. When class began, Sterling was surprised that it was conducted in French. As a result, he was not able to follow at all. The topic was some of the writings associated with the outbreak of the French Revolution in 1789, including Abbé Emmanuel Joseph Sieyes' influential pamphlet Qu'est-ce que le tiers état? - What is the Third Estate? of that revolutionary year. Another work was Nicolas de Caritat, Marquis de Condorcet's Tableaux historiques, published posthumously in 1795, which declared that the outbreak of the French Revolution in 1789 ushered in the Utopian Age, an improvement on all that had gone before, more or less creating the popular nineteenth century idea that progress was one of those ineluctable laws of nature. Ironically, Condorcet was guillotined by the Revolutionary leaders during the Reign of Terror in 1794. Bryce took an active part in class, but not any more than usual, and not as contentious as sometimes.

After class, Bryce and Sterling waited to speak with Dr. Anjot. Back in the Professor's office, he asked Sterling, "Did you enjoy the class?"

"I don't speak French. I was totally lost," Sterling answered.

"Oh, sorry. If you had said something, we could have conducted the class in English," Pascal Anjot volunteered.

"My fault," Bryce admitted. "It simply did not occur to me until class started, and then I didn't want to interrupt."

"I was impressed that the students seemed actually able to carry on discussion in French, so I did learn something," Sterling admitted. "I'm here sort of reviewing Bryce's situation, and will be leaving this evening. I'm following him around all day. Is there anything you would like to tell me at this point?" he asked.

"Bryce has been most assiduous in class attendance. I believe he missed only once, last Monday, in fact, and came around the next day to get notes on what he missed. As you saw, he participates, although he does not seem to have formed any kind of friendship with any of the other students in this class. I must say, I have found him to be thoughtful, prepared, and well organized in his presentations in class." Turning to Bryce, he asked, "Is this related to the personal problem you mentioned last week?"

"Yes, sir. We're trying to resolve it," Bryce replied.

"I sincerely hope you do. You have not been as ... as active and ... as forceful in defending your interpretations this past week. I must say, I miss that."

"Thank you, Dr. Anjot. I sincerely hope we can resolve everything, too," Bryce said.

Bryce did not have another class until 11:00, as the Freshman Orientation class was not meeting, so he and his father went to the University Center, where they encountered Damon. They sat and had coffee.

"Dad, I have no idea what you're thinking about this whole situation. You ask questions. You seem interested. But I still don't know what to expect," Bryce complained.

"Son, you have to forgive me. As I reminded you Saturday when I arrived, I'm a lawyer. My whole life has been involved in the law for too many years for me to want to remember. This has made me cautious. I don't like making judgments until I have all the facts. I can say that, so far, I'm impressed with the reputation you have with a wide variety of people, but please don't press me for a decision until after we've had our last interview with Father Miller."

"Okay, Dad, but this is not easy."

"I know. Just bear with me for a few more hours, please. Now, I have a request."

"What's that?"

"Do you think I could see this Dr. Harris, the geneticist, if I have it right, before your class?"

"I don't know, Dad. He wasn't on the list you gave me, so I haven't asked. I don't know what his schedule is the hour before class. That's the normal lunch hour, you know," Bryce reminded him.

"I know. My fault. I should have included him along with Dr. Dickinson, who, if I recall, we're to meet in about ten minutes," Sterling said.

"Yes, just a minute." Bryce pulled out his cell phone and called campus information. He got Dr. Harris's office number, and called. Fortunately, Dr. Harris was in, and fortunately he agreed to meet with Mr. Winslow before class, "provided he doesn't mind a few crumbs. Today, I'm eating lunch in my office because I'm expecting another call, but I should be finished with that by 12:30 or a little later."

Satisfied, they left Damon, and walked over to the Filson Building, where they found Dr. Dickinson in his office on the third floor. He was poking various keys on his computer and looking very frustrated.

"Oh, yes! Do come in! I'm grateful for the distraction. I don't know what I did, but I can't get this confounded thing to do anything I want. I'll have to call the computer center and have them send a technician over. I think they're getting tired of my calls, though."

"Dr. Dickinson, this is my father, Sterling Winslow. Dad, Dr. John Dickinson," Bryce introduced them.

"I hope we're not here at an inopportune time," Sterling said as he shook hands with the Professor.

"No, no! These things happen. All too often, I'm afraid. Please sit down, and tell me what it is you want. Let me say at the outset, I am delighted with you son. He has been an absolute godsend on occasion in that class we share," Dr. Dickinson said in his plummy British accent.

"You're his academic advisor, I believe," Sterling said.

"True, true! We have had some interesting discussions in that relationship. Have you told your father about karate, Mr. Winslow?"

Bryce flushed.

"Karate? What about it?" Sterling asked.

"At midterm it was the only class in which he was not earning an A. How is that going, may I ask?" Dr. Dickinson said.

"Pretty good," Bryce said, still embarrassed. "I'm up to a B at least, and if I do well enough in the final workout I may get an A."

"Excellent!" Dr. Dickinson exclaimed.

"Does your mother know about the karate, Bryce?" Sterling asked.

"Oh, dear!" Dr. Dickinson interrupted. "I do remember now you told me your mother had not wanted you to take karate when you were younger. I do hope I have not caused difficulties."

"No. Not yet, anyway," Bryce said. "I haven't told Mom about the karate," he admitted to his father.

"I'm here," Sterling told Dr. Dickinson, "because of a problem we had last weekend, while Bryce was home for the Thanksgiving holidays. I'm kind of on a fact finding mission."

"I don't know what I might have to contribute, I'm afraid," Dr. Dickinson said. "Although I do recall that Bryce missed class for the only time this semester last Monday. He has been an outstanding student. I have enjoyed having him in class. As I understand it, he took the initiative in organizing a study group of some of the students in the class, and I think that has benefitted the entire group quite a bit. His work has been outstanding. Although a freshman, his tests and his term paper are easily as good as any other in the class, superior to some. Oh, I should say, I am also the faculty advisor to Sigma Alpha Tau, and have seen him there operating under adverse circumstances, and he came out with flying colours."

"I met with several of the fraternity officers yesterday. They told me about some of that."

"I can assure you, Mr. Winslow, a lesser man would have bowed out. There were some mistakes made, but there were also some simply biased and arrogant individuals involved. I know of nothing Bryce did which rebounds to his discredit. He has conducted himself as a gentleman," Professor Dickinson reported.

"Thank you, sir. I hope you won't mind if I sit in on your class later this afternoon," Sterling said.

"Not at all. Not at all. Delighted."

And so they departed for Bryce's Psychology class. On the way, Sterling commented, "Now I know where you got that kick you delivered to Chip's jaw."

Bryce looked embarrassed.

In Widmer Hall, Bryce again introduced his father to one of his professors.

"Why are you here?" Dr. Greeley asked suspiciously.

"Bryce had some difficulties over the Thanksgiving weekend. I'm here to try to resolve that," Sterling replied.

"What does that have to do with my class?" the instructor asked.

"Nothing, directly. I've been kind of shadowing Bryce all day, attending each of his classes, to get a feel for the situation," Sterling responded.

"Very well. But you can be assured that everything I say in class is well within the parameters of the profession," Dr. Greeley testily conceded.

As Bryce and Sterling took their places in the classroom, Sterling asked, "Am I mistaken, or was Dr. Greeley rather hostile?"

"I'm afraid I'm not one of his favorite students, Dad. I frequently disagree with some of the theories he presents, and ask him about the evidence for them or to consider alternatives. He really doesn't appreciate that," Bryce reported.

During class, Dr. Greeley seemed distracted. Several times he made direct reference to the fact that Bryce had disagreed with this or that point, and he frequently looked in his direction. Bryce decided to hold his peace unless there were something he absolutely could not accept, and that did not happen.

When class was over, Sterling commented, "You have that man running scared. You must have done more than ask him to consider alternatives."

"Once or twice he did have to admit I was right," Bryce grinned.

They did not return to the University Center, but instead made their way to Rebecca Ruth Hall for a brief lunch. Warned beforehand by Bryce, Caroline Koehler had prepared something for them, and was there to meet them, as was Damon.

"Dad, this is Caroline Koehler. She's the person who has saved my skin in the karate class, and also the creator of the best Bourbon balls this side of Mom's. Caroline, this is my father, Sterling Winslow," Bryce again performed the introductions.

"Hello, Mr. Winslow. Bryce will do okay in karate if he will just concentrate," Caroline said as she shook Sterling's hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Ms. Koehler. My daughter gives me good reports on your Bourbon balls."

"When Bryce called yesterday and asked me to be here today, I whipped up a batch, so here are some to take back with you," Caroline said, producing a nicely wrapped package. Then, she produced a second, open batch. "And this is for dessert if you behave yourself today," she told Bryce.

"What about me?" Damon pled.

"You, too. There's enough for everyone," Caroline promised.

"I don't think I ever heard of Bourbon balls before I became involved with you and Bryce, but I'm definitely acquiring the taste," Damon stated.

Over lunch they discussed Caroline's musical activities, and how she had included Bryce and Damon in them from time to time, until it was time to depart for Audubon Hall and Biology.

Dr. Harris had his office door open, so he saw them as they approached. "Come in," he called. "We have fifteen or twenty minutes before class, and I'm prepared, so the time is yours. What can I do for you?"

"I understand Bryce did a paper for you on the biological aspects of sexual orientation," Sterling said, once the introductions were behind them.

"Yes, that's true. Very well done, too," Dr. Harris said.

"How definite is it, scientifically speaking, that sexual orientation is biologically determined?" Sterling asked.

"Oh, I would say there's no question about it. In science, we never rule out a possible revision if new evidence comes in, but as of now, I would have to say it's as definite as just about anything," Dr. Harris asserted. "We had one or two students in the class who had a problem with that, largely, I think, because of their religious convictions. I'm no theologian, and I do not answer religious questions, but scientifically speaking, there is really no question about it."

"Bryce, I'd like a copy of that paper," Sterling said.

"Sure, Dad. It's on my computer. I'll print one off," Bryce promised.

"I understand Bryce is doing well in the class," Sterling commented.

"Indeed. He's done very well on the tests. We have a test once each two weeks. Straight A's. He did a very good job on his presentation in class about his paper topic. He's been very faithful in attendance. Last Monday is, I believe, the only absence?" Dr. Harris asked, turning to Bryce.

"Yes, sir. The only one," Bryce replied.

"Thank you, Dr. Harris," Sterling said.

"Time for class," the large Professor commented, glancing at the clock on the wall as he heaved himself out of his chair, and gathered his notes. They all went down to the classroom, where Dr. Harris regaled them with additional information about the Human Genome Project. He cautioned, "Don't think you can get away with mayhem because of your genes. I could not testify in court that genes made you do this or that, only that they gave you a proclivity in one direction or another. You still have to accept some responsibility for your actions."

As they left the class, Sterling asked, "Do you think Dr. Harris threw in that last part for my benefit?"

"No, I don't think so," Bryce said. "It's more or less in keeping with things he's said before."

"Okay, what's next?" Sterling asked.

"I go to Dr. Dickinson's class. Damon has a free period, which he usually uses to goof off," Bryce said.

"Hey! I resent that!" Damon protested. "You know my next class is Math, and I dread it more than any other."

"So, what do you do? Sit and tremble?" Bryce goaded him.

"I am definitely getting back at you after your father leaves," Damon announced. "I want no witnesses."

"Coming with me or with Damon, Dad?" Bryce asked.

"I suppose I'd better stick to shadowing you, though I think Damon might need some support here."

"I'll be okay. Seriously. I go to the cafeteria, drink coffee or a coke, look over my Math, and sometimes talk to DuBois or whoever else is there," Damon assured him.

So, it was back to Filson Hall for Bryce and Sterling. They sat through Dr. Dickinson's lecture on the peace settlement at Utrecht in 1713. The Tory ministers of Queen Anne abandoned Britain's allies and the commitments made by the previous Whig ministers, seeking a separate accommodation with France, and commercial advantages for the British at the expense of their allies' interests. The Dutch and the Emperor were especially offended by this, which would cause some problems in foreign relations in the future. It was this more than any other single series of events which created the reputation of perfide Albion, a derogatory epithet implying that Britain did not keep her commitments. As usual, Bryce participated, asking questions which indicated that he knew the material, but wanted further clarification.

After class, while Bryce was speaking to Jack Datillo, Dr. Dickinson said to Sterling, "This was a typical performance by Bryce. It's his usual level of participation."

Sterling appreciated the comment, which he knew was intended to assure him that Bryce was not just putting on a special performance for his sake.

Then it was back to the University Center for another cup of coffee prior to meeting with Father Miller. Bryce explained that he sometimes had a snack at this point, but did not feel like it today. He was trying to give his father as accurate a picture of his day, and his life at U of C, as possible. They walked across to the Newman Center, where they found Patricia Murphy at her station.

"Hello, Patricia Murphy. How was Chicago?" Bryce asked.

"Great! Had a wonderful Thanksgiving. But, hey! Where were you last Monday? You weren't even in Father's appointment book."

"Actually, Father and I more or less resolved my problems the Monday before," Bryce answered. "But my dad's in town, and wanted to talk with Father. This is my father, Sterling Winslow. And Dad, this is Patricia Murphy, receptionist extraordinaire."

As they exchanged greetings, the door to the chaplain's office opened, and, as usual, the priest emerged with a student. In only a couple of minutes, Bryce, Sterling, and Father Miller were seated in the office.

"So, I understand from Bryce's call that there was some problem over the Thanksgiving break," the priest began.

"Yes, that's why I'm here," Sterling responded. "There are several ... sides of Bryce's life, I guess ... that I had not been aware of. That seems to have bubbled over last Sunday. I have some questions I'd like your help with."

"You understand, Mr. Winslow, that my relationship with Bryce is covered by what you lawyers call client confidentiality. I'll be glad to answer anything I can, but ...."

"Oh, tell him anything he wants to know, Father," Bryce interrupted. "Unless we resolve these problems, I'm going to have a rough time with my family. There's nothing, really, that I told you that you can't tell Dad."

"Even with your permission, I can't repeat what was in your confession, Bryce, but as I recall there was nothing there not also covered in our previous discussions. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Father, I'm sure." Bryce got a crooked grin on his face. "Besides, I've already been embarrassed so often these past few days, a little more won't matter."

"I don't think you have anything to be embarrassed about," Father Miller said.

"Would you mind, Bryce, if I spoke with Father Miller privately?" Sterling asked.

"Just like you and Damon?" Bryce charged, but he rose and took his departure. For the next forty-five minutes, he talked with Pat Murphy, spent some time in the chapel, returned to bother Pat, who was trying to get some homework done, and then was finally rewarded when the two older men emerged from the priest's office, just about the time another student arrived for his appointment.

"Well?" Bryce asked.

"I'll let your father take it from here," Father Miller said. "I need to meet with Danny, here," indicating the other student.

"Oooohhhh, you're driving me nuts, not knowing how this is going to end," Bryce complained.

"Come on, Son. I think it's almost time we wound this up," Sterling said. As they walked away from the Newman Center, he asked, "I assume you will want Damon to be part of whatever I have to say?"

"Yes. Definitely. Damon and I are a team, Dad. He's out of class, and most likely back at the dorm," Bryce stated.

"We didn't arrange a meeting. I should have thought of that. Can we pick him up and then find someplace to talk?" Sterling asked.

"Sure. This way." Bryce led his father back to Clay Hall and up to their rooms on the third floor.

As they made their way there, Sterling asked, "Is there some place we can go where I can get a drink. I don't suppose you have a bottle in your room?"

"Is that a trick question? No, I don't. And I'm not sure I like the sound of that. Is it bad enough you need a drink to deliver the verdict?" Bryce responded.

"I just thought it would be more conducive to a pleasant meeting," Sterling protested.

"Ah, the lawyer at work," Bryce teased. "Not a hint before the proper time. Well, Dad, we could return to Pat's. This time of day is pretty dead there. And they do have mixed drinks, though most of the kids drink beer."

"That's what we'll do then," Sterling decided, as they entered Bryce's room.

Hearing them enter, Damon appeared through the bathroom.

"How about it, Damon?" Bryce asked. "Are you game for an early visit to Pat's? Dad is torturing me by refusing to tell me anything about what he thinks of all this. A real Torquemada."

"A real turkey what?" Damon asked.

"Don't pay any attention to him. Bryce is just showing off. How about sparing me some more of your time before I have to catch my flight back to Lincoln?" Sterling interpreted.

"Sure. No problem," Damon agreed.

Before they left the dorm, Bryce used the opportunity to print out a copy of his Biology term paper for his father, after which they walked the short distance to Pat's Tavern, where, as Bryce predicted, there were few customers. They took a booth, with Sterling ordering a Scotch and soda, and the two students ordering drafts.

Once settled, Sterling began. "I appreciate your patience, Bryce, even if it wore a little thin on occasion. As I told you, I wanted to collect all the facts before making a decision. I think I am prepared to do so now. The last facts I needed were given me by Father Miller, and my case is complete."

Bryce and Damon exchanged looks at that introduction. It almost sounded as though sentence was being pronounced against them. Bryce stiffened, but waited for his father to continue.

"I did not know quite what to expect when I arrived. You did take me completely by surprise last weekend, Bryce. I had some pretty lurid possibilities in mind, but Nan told me not to be silly. Your sister is a lot like your mother. I hope the man she selects will appreciate her. Anyway, let me begin by saying that I appreciate the way you have cooperated with this mission of enquiry. I'm sure your friends at the fraternity and Father Miller, and possibly your teachers as well, would not have been so forthcoming had you not told them to be as cooperative as possible.

"I had no idea what it would be like to come into contact with the world you have created for yourself here. I mean, I have never really thought about how a gay person lives, or relates to those around him. It has not been part of my experience until now. I have dealt with gay persons professionally, but not personally. I admit I had images of a room full of people like PeeWee Herman.

"Well, it was nothing like what I feared. You have made some very responsible, civic minded friends, beginning with Damon, here. As I said when I arrived, I thought Damon and I got on well over Thanksgiving. If anything, I am more impressed now than before. You're quite right, Bryce, in saying this man has come a long way, and is going places. Damon, I want you to know that I have every confidence that you will make a fine lawyer. You have a toughness and determination which will see you through, and a flexibility which will serve you well.

"Your other friends, Bryce, are also quite impressive. Mike and the Sandovals are a wonderful family, and an inspiration. Like so many minorities, they have managed to get ahead by hard work and adapting to the environment. I was quite surprised when you indicated that Mike was gay. There's nothing about him to indicate his orientation. His mother has accepted him, and is proud of his achievements. I envy the closeness that family has, something I doubt you, Son, and Chip will ever achieve. I paid especially attention to the way Mike's brother and sister related to him. They like each other. That's wonderful.

"I am truly impressed with the reputation you have rolled up in the time you have been her, Son. Everywhere we turned, there were people praising you for something. Mike praised your involvement in the English study group. Your friends at the fraternity think you're a definite asset. Your professors all say you're an outstanding student. Well, all except ... what's his name? The Psychology professor?"

"Dr. Greeley," Bryce supplied.

"Yes. He seems to have a chip on his shoulder. I would avoid him in future, Bryce. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I'm very impressed, too, with your work at that shelter house. It's the kind of thing your mother and I have talked about doing, but somehow never got around to. Maybe we can take a lesson from our son."

"That was initially Damon's doing, Dad," Bryce pointed out.

"Yes, I know. I have learned a great deal about both of you these past few days. Now, I admit, I checked out some credentials last night on the internet. Dr. Harris is certainly well known in his field. I was impressed with his list of publications, and the offices he has held in professional organizations. I think he would qualify as an expert witness in any trial. And your Father Miller is almost equally impressive. A doctorate from the Gregorianum in Rome, articles in several respected publications. Did you know some of his former students ... or whatever you call the kids at the Newman Center ... have started a web site talking about all the help he has given them over the years? No? Well, you should check it out. You're not the only recipient of his counseling, by a long shot. The Church is truly blessed to have priests like him, working to keep the younger generation connected, and to overcome the damage done by some of the less qualified members of his calling. After meeting him, and comparing what I know of him and Father Flannigan, I'm willing to admit that our pastor at home has very ... ah ... limited views on many issues.

"So, I'm convinced by the testimony of Dr. Harris and Father Miller. I always thought of gay persons as individuals who chose to flaunt their socially unacceptable and irresponsible choices in the face of the rest of society. I see I was wrong. I do know how to evaluate evidence. The evidence is all in your favor, Bryce. I don't know how or why you turned out this way, but I accept the results of my enquiries. Your sexual orientation is not a choice, but a given fact of nature. As you said Saturday, it's not what I had in mind for you. When you decided to pursue a career as an historian, that was a choice. Your sexual orientation is not a choice. Now I understand the difference, and I understand that neither is my call. You have shown yourself to be a responsible adult, and I accept that.

"Let me tell you, Bryce, the final piece of evidence was the testimony of Father Miller. He convinced me that your way of life was not irresponsible hedonism. On the contrary, I think the man is ready to put you up for early canonization. He spoke of how conflicted you were, and how dedicated. He went on until it was embarrassing about how honest you were, how you would not accept anything short of intellectual conviction. How you made him work at finding answers to your questions. But most of all, about the depth of your spirituality, your faith. I think he's convinced you're a walking saint. Now, don't let that go to your head. I'm still your father, and I know better.

"But, as a result of all I've learned over the past 48 hours, I'm ready to accept you as you are, Bryce. It's something new to me, something I never even considered, but if this is who you are, then I accept it. We'll still have to work at how this plays out on a day by day basis. You're still my son, and I love you, and I want what is best for you. And, it would appear that what is best for you is sitting right next to you. I said all along, Damon and I get along fine. Nobody who likes jazz as much as he does can be all bad."

The atmosphere had improved a thousand fold. Bryce now knew his father was accepting him, and accepting Damon. Sterling even managed to inject a little humor into his statement. Bryce was grinning from ear to ear, but also blushing from all the praise, even as tears of gratitude flowed from his eyes.

But Sterling was not finished. "Bryce, you set forth three conditions for you and Damon coming home at Christmas. One was accepting you as a gay man. I accept you. Your mother and sister have already accepted you. Another was accepting your relationship with Damon. I think I have made it clear that I accept that as well. I only hope Chip and Nan come up with equally acceptable partners. The third, however, is an apology from Chip. I can't make an apology for Chip. That's something you and your brother will have to work out between you. But I can promise you this. If you and Damon do come back for Christmas, you can count on us to say something to Chip each and every time he is less than accepting of both of you. That's the best I can do."

Bryce had tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Dad. I never wanted a rupture with the family. I hate disappointing you. But I had to stand up for Damon, and for my own integrity as a gay man."

"You did well, Son. Can I tell your mother to expect you in a little over two weeks?"

When Bryce hesitated, Damon intervened. "Yes! We'll be there!"