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IF LOVE WERE ALL
by
Ritch Christopher
Chapter Two
"Leader of the Band"
During the time that Scott Parsons spent getting his master's degree in music at Northwestern University in Chicago, he had met and become romantically involved with Kathy Simmons, who also was studying there to be a registered nurse. Scott had been proved very proficient on both trombone and trumpet, but he really excelled on the former, so much so that he had played second 'bone with the Chicago Symphony during his senior year. He knew that he could probably make a sizable amount of money playing with orchestras and bands, but that wasn't Scott's objective. Since junior high school, all he had wanted to do was to create marching routines for a college band.
So, as soon as he saw his master's about to be completed, Scott began to send resumes across the country to various colleges and universities, both large and small. One of the replies he received intrigued him more than the others as the return address was Boston, Massachusetts. It wasn't from Boston U, but a rival of BU's in Bean Town, a school named Copper University, named after John Copper, a multi-millionaire whose ancestors had been traced back to the Revolutionary War.
Tom Cunningham, the Dean of CU, found himself very interested in one particular item on Scott's resume, an entry stating that he was very knowledgeable of A.R. Casavant's "Precision Marching" manuals. Tom's father, Ned, had played under Casavant when the "master of marching band routines" was band director at Chattanooga High School. Ned had been band captain for 'Cass'. He might have been drum major but Cass always insisted on having a female drum majorette. Most of his life, Tom had heard his dad talk about Casavant and all the awards and contests Casavant's bands had won. So, as soon as Tom saw that Scott was familiar with his own dad's hero, he wrote to Scott and asked him to come to CU for an interview.
Scott flew to Boston, looked around CU and, even though the college wasn't as large a school as he was looking for, he liked what he saw and thought of it as a beginning. The Universities of Tennessee, Nebraska, and Los Angeles would have to wait. The one thing that couldn't wait was his marriage to Kathy Simmons. He felt obliged to give her and their forthcoming child Scott's surname.
Kathy was thrilled with the idea of moving to Boston. It was a great place to raise kids...good schools...but also, great hospitals where she could go to work whenever she chose.
So, having lived on a student's budget through college and grad school, Scott and Kathy had a modest wedding performed by a notary public from the NU bursar's office and their honeymoon would coincide with the move to Boston. They would spend their wedding night in their new home, if a real wedding night it could be called. Kathy was already six months preggers and was showing like she'd swallowed an over-blown-up basketball. Skip, legally known as Steven Richard Parsons, was born a month early and still weighed in at over eight pounds. Bobby, the second son was conceived only two months later, so in essence for at least one month each year, the brothers would be the same age and they could be reared practically as twins.
It took Scott nearly three years to recruit his band members, offering scholarships to talented high school students, before finally getting the sound and marching abilities he needed to compete with the college's rivals.
In the meantime, Kathy thought it best to be a stay-at-home mom and put her nursing career on hold. She, Scott, and their two boys were happy and she and Scott had a healthy relationship in the bedroom, in spite of the fact, known only to Scott, that he was a virgin when he met Kathy. The only sex he'd ever experienced prior to that had been with his best friend, Clay Lawson, who lived next door to him in Florida when they both were in their mid-teens.
Scott never thought of his and Clay's relationship as gay. Clay was the only boy Scott ever desired and when they went their separate ways to college, Scott never pursued another male/male connection, except for an occasional masturbatory fantasy if he had difficulty going to sleep. The last Scott heard of Clay was that Clay had entered pre-med school somewhere in Tennessee. The two boyhood friends exchanged a couple of letters after they separated, but soon thereafter, Scott's fantasies turned to girls, especially after he met the girl of his dreams, Kathy Simmons.
During the ten years that followed, Scott's CU marching band elevated itself to superior ratings in all New England marching band competitions. Scott now had all the musicians which he had strived to get and CU's budget appropriation allocated more money for the band then the football team. The team's record was so bad that CU class members were buying more tickets to watch Scott's half time show than to watch the game itself.
Just getting into the band had become extremely competitive throughout all New England high schools. College musicians were seeking a transfer from their own college to vie for a spot on CU's band. Scott couldn't have been more pleased with his efforts and his musicians. Dean Cunningham likewise was impressed and he rewarded Scott with four successive pay raises since the band was bringing in more tuition money than the athletic programs.
There was one particular student who caught Scott's eye. He was a local, so to speak, a freshman from an adjacent township, Holyfield, Mass. The kid was eighteen years old when he auditioned for Scott,showing his mastery of the clarinet and flute. The kid's name was Lonnie Browne, though his peers called him Buddy. Lonnie, or Buddy, could not only play rings around the other clarinet players, he beat out all the seniors, juniors, and sophomores for the first chair position in both the marching and concert bands.
During Buddy's first fall season, Scott asked him if he could call him Lonnie instead because a problem could arise on the practice field every time Scott yelled from the stadium, 'Hey Buddy, move over about three inches' and suddenly ever male member in the band moved three inches as well. Buddy was a generic name like 'pal' and so everyone assumed Scott was talking to him. So Scott became the only person in Buddy's life to address his star pupil by his given name, Lonnie, which in fact was another nickname for the "Lon" on his birth certificate. When Lonnie was ten and Toby was three, Toby started calling Lonnie, Buddy, out of nowhere. Ted, Lisa, even Marc laughed and from then on, what started as a joke became Buddy's permanent name to answer to, at home and among his peers.
However, it was not just Lonnie's brilliance on the clarinet which attracted Scott to him, it was Lonnie's uncanny physical appearance which made him a dead ringer for Clay, Scott's boyfriend back in Florida. Several times during a student/teacher private conversation, Scott almost slipped and called him Clay. Scott soon had a slightly obsessive feeling toward Lonnie (Buddy), even asking him to stay late after practice for a private rehearsal in order that Lonnie could help teach his fellow band members a new routine or musical passage.
From September until Thanksgiving, these private sessions between Scott and Lonnie became more numerous and Lonnie began to feel a certain closeness to his band director, although attraction might have been a better way to put it. Sometimes Lonnie felt that Scott was purposely finding ways to touch him physically when Scott was teaching a certain way to pivot on one foot or make a grand bow during an eight bar segment. At times, Lonnie found himself making mistakes on purpose just to get Scott's close attention.
Once while learning a new move, Lonnie turned the wrong way and turned his body directly toward Scott's...so close that their faces were only a few inches apart. Lonnie had a sudden urge to kiss Scott, but Scott must have felt it too, because he drew away instantly before he let his lips meet Lonnie's. This was followed by an immediate embarrassed laugh and an apology.
Their friendship grew into more than a student/teacher relationship during the rest of Lonnie's freshman year in the concert band where marching was not required. During the summer vacation, they each found themselves missing the other, each feeling he couldn't wait for marching band rehearsals to start again in August.
When Lonnie's sophomore year did begin with field practice, Scott held auditions for the new drum major position. Lonnie won it fair and square because he WAS the best, not just because Scott wanted to reward him. However, being drum major would mean many more private sessions between them, which both were looking forward to...for more than one reason.
One Thursday afternoon after a long practice on the hot field, Scott asked Lonnie to stay late and Scott invited him into his office and closed the door behind them. Scott noticed that Lonnie looked a bit dehydrated. His face was white with cold sweat and appeared as if he were about to faint. Scott made him sit while he rushed to the private water cooler in his office to pour Lonnie a cup of water. While there, Scott wet a towel to wipe Lonnie's face.
"Here, Lonnie, drink this," Scott said.
Lonnie gulped the water too fast, became dizzy, and his head fell forward landing in Scott's midsection just below his belt. Nature took over and Scott sprang a boner which he instantly cursed and tried to back away but it was too late, Lonnie had already felt it and the surprise gave him an adrenalin rush and he revived himself quickly and said he should call his mother to come pick him up. Scott was embarrassed, too much so to offer Lonnie a ride home.
Lonnie pulled himself to his feet, saying he thought he would 'brave it' and drive himself home. But as he rushed outside from the band room, once again he felt dizzy, only this time it wasn't brought about by the heat, it was caused by nerves and built-up sexual tension. He made it to his car in the parking lot before he fell against it in a semi-collapsed state. As he placed both hands on the passenger window to steady himself, up drove his best friend, Clint, in a brand new Mustang which his parents had bought him as a bribe to go back to school. Clint saw Buddy and pulled up beside him.
"Hey, pal, are you all right?" Clint asked, quite concerned.
"I don't think so, Clint. I feel like I'm gonna faint."
"Leave your car locked and I'll take you home. It'll be all right here overnight and I can come by and pick you up in the morning if you feel better."
"Thanks," Buddy uttered. "Sounds like a good idea."
Buddy was still reeling from what almost happened between him and Scott, but he was glad to see Clint. The two of them hadn't spent as much time together since Clint became serious over Lulu, who played piccolo in the band. Buddy was glad to be alone with his best friend even if he did feel sick.
"Man, you look positively putrid!" Clint remarked.
"Thanks, maybe I should've combed my hair for you."
"What happened anyway? I took Lulu home and she said you looked pale after practice, so after I left her house, I decided to drive back to the campus and look for you."
"I...I got a little too much sun, I guess."
"And I suppose Mr. Parsons invited you into his private sanctuary to administer mouth-to-mouth?"
Clint's remark was a like a slap to Buddy and put him on the defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, bro, it's just that Lulu said that Mr. Parsons always has to have one private session with you in his office, at least once during or after band practice. What's goin' on between the two of you?"
"Nothing, Clint, and I don't appreciate your accusation. There's NOTHING between him and me. He just wants to make sure I know how to lead the band with special moves and pieces of music."
"It does seem strange to the other band members according to Lulu."
"Clint, we've been best buddies practically all our lives and recently it's been as if you were trying to find out if I was gay or something... or are you trying to MAKE me gay in your mind?"
"No such thing, Buddy! I know you're not gay. All the times we spent together in junior high and high school...the nights we slept together at each other's houses. The times we jerked off together... never once did you make a move on me...and you certainly had plenty of chances. Why, if I were gay, I'd've made a nose dive between your legs and sent you to the moon with a blow job. But I never did...and neither did you."
"Then why would you suspect something between Mr. Parsons and me? He's married to a nurse. He has two sons who are nine or ten year old. He doesn't look or act gay. So why him?"
"I don't know, but, I'm just like everyone else, I guess. From what I've heard, you two spend entirely too much time together by yourselves."
"Who else can I spend time with? You're my best friend and all your spare time when we used to go places together, now seems to be centered around you and Lulu."
"I'm sorry about that...it's just that Lulu's and my relationship is different from yours and mine. She and I do things that you and I could NEVER do together."
"You mean, like having sex?"
Clint released an embarrassed laugh, "Well, now that you mention it..."
"Have you and Lulu...gone all the way?"
"Why do you ask that? We're both nineteen, of course we have. What about you? You never want to double date...even when I've fixed you up with a sure-fired lay."
"You know how my parents brought me and my brothers up. I've told you about it often enough. We...Marc, Toby, and I...we're gonna wait until we get married and have our first sex on our wedding night...the same as my parents did."
"Damn! Buddy! At the rate you're going, you'll be forty years old and still a virgin. Do you still jerk off a lot?"
"Not a lot, only when I feel I can't hold it back any longer."
"I wish to hell you'd forget about all that 'wait until my wedding night' bullshit and let me get you a hot date. Even if you don't do anything with her, you can watch Lulu and me and get some idea how great it is!"
"Watch YOU and LULU have sex? No thanks!"
"Okay, but you're sure wasting a lot of fun times."
"Clint, can I ask you something as my best friend?"
"You've never stopped before. What is it?"
"Well, like you were talking about a few minutes ago...you know, when we jerked off together..."
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Did you ever once want to go any farther?"
"You mean with you?"
"Yeah."
"Hell, no! You're my best friend and I've always loved you, I guess, but you're a guy...I'm a guy...and I never wanted to try any..queer stuff with you. Why do you ask?"
"I was just wondering..."
"Don't tell me you had queer feelings about me?"
"Heck, no!" Buddy lied, emphatically. "I just wondered if YOU ever did."
"Well, now you can stop wondering about it. The answer is an unqualified 'no'!"
Just as this heart-to-heart, 'best buddy', conversation ended, Clint pulled his car into Buddy's driveway.
"You want me to come in with you?"
"No, I'll be all right...Thanks for the ride home."
"Listen, I'll call you around nine tonight and see if you feel like going to school tomorrow. What time's your band practice?"
"Around 10:00 AM."
"That's great! If you need a ride, I'll come by and give you a lift."
"I'd like that."
"Hey, pal, that's what best friends are for."
Buddy thought, 'I wish to heck you really knew what I needed you for', but instead he said goodbye to Clint and slowly walked up the stairs into his house.
Lisa was cooking in the kitchen; Ted hadn't come home from work yet; Toby was shooting hoops in the back yard; and only God knew where Marc was...he definitely was with Sandy somewhere. Buddy quietly went upstairs to his bedroom, not letting his mother know he was home. He realized that he would have to explain to her later why he hadn't driven his own car home, but for now, all Buddy wanted to do was go to his room, collapse on his bed, and think over what had happened between him and Mr. Parsons, plus replay in his mind his conversation with Clint.
His thoughts were racing as he tried to picture what Mr. Parsons was hiding in his trousers. What would have happened if he'd reached up and grabbed Mr. Parson's crotch? That had been his first impulse, but his upbringing had stopped him. But how does a nineteen year old boy with homosexual feelings ever cope with them? How long does he have to wait before he acts on his urges and impulses? Where does one begin and how? Buddy had no answers to his questions and he thought the best way to defuse his quandry was to lock his door and relieve his tension with a quick masturbation session.
He could usually 'get off' rather quickly while thinking about Clint, but today all his fantasies focused on his band director. Damn! If Mr. Parsons hadn't felt 'something', why on earth would he get an erection when Buddy leaned forward and rested his head near Mr. Parson's crotch? This was the first of many questions AND fantasies that Buddy would have concerning Scott Parsons. 'It was only a matter of time', Buddy thought to himself.
Later that night when the Browne's had gathered at the table for dinner, Buddy offered an acceptable explanation of why he had left his car parked at school. He had just gotten a little too hot and Clint had told him if was safer if he brought Buddy home... nothing more, nothing less and the topic ended when Buddy reassured his family that he felt fine and Clint was coming by the next morning to take him to practice. Everything seemed to be back to normal the rest of the evening.
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The innocent, 'accidental' episode between Lonnie (Buddy) and Scott had completely unnerved Scott. Never had anything like this happened before between him and any student, OR between him and any other male since Clay, many years ago in Florida. Scott locked the outside door to the band room and went to his car. His momentary erection had disappeared almost immediately when Lonnie suddenly stood and announce he was going home.
Frankly speaking, Scott hadn't taken time to pee after that as he usually did before driving home. He was almost afraid to find out how far his penis had drawn up inside his body as a result of his embarrassment. He had read about traumatic penile erectile dysfunction and from the tension Scott was experiencing, he felt he might never get hard again for the rest of his life. God, how angry he was at himself! He must never allow anything like this to happen ever again. There would be no more private sessions with Lonnie in his office or ANYWHERE! Scott would always make sure another band or staff member was present when he had to give instructions to his drum major, who just had to be a look-alike for Scott's one and only gay partner.
As he drove home, he kept asking himself, 'Did it happen because it was Lonnie, or was it because Lonnie suddenly became Clay for an instant?' Scott broke a rule. He was a teetotaler as far as hard liquor was concerned, but he wanted to stop at a bar and have a cocktail to settle his nerves before going home to face Kathy and his afternoon session of rough-housing it with his two boys.
Three traffic lights later, Scott saw a bar on his right called, "Andy Panda's", a name which he hadn't heard since he was in kindergarten. There were only six or eight cars parked out front and it looked decent enough for him to stop and go in for one drink. He'd have preferred it to be a little less exposed to traffic, but what the hell!
Inside the bar all the tables were empty as all the patrons were at the bar seated with two or three vacant barstools seperating each customer or pair of drinkers. There was a total of ten customers plus the bartender...two women, both by themselves, and eight men, two were in groups of two, while the other four appeared to be there by themselves. Scott sat on the middle stool of five between a single man and a single woman.
The bartender came over to get Scott's order and, for the life of him, Scott couldn't think of the name of a drink to order. He looked at the drink in front of the guy sitting closest to him. It was something in a short glass and looked light brown in color. Scott politely asked him, "Excuse me, but are you enjoying YOUR drink?"
"I must be!" the stranger replied with a grin, "I've been drinking the same thing every afternoon for over five years."
The reply didn't help Scott, so he tried once again, "So, do you mind if I ask what...what brand is your favorite?"
"Johnny Walker Gold! That's the best!"
"That's strange because that's my favorite too," Scott lied, but at least he now he some idea of what to order. "Give me one just like his," Scott said, pointing at the stranger's glass..."and while you're at it, fix him another as well."
"Thanks, buddy, you're all right!" the stranger replied, holding up his glass to toast Scott.
Then Scott became aware that the woman to his right had moved to the stool next to him.
"Hey, cutie, you gotta light?" She asked Scott. who could hardly believe that a woman would dress and wear makeup as she and still be a real woman. Scott had seen football jocks dressed in drag for the fraternity follies who looked better. It was late afternoon and she was dressed in a tight satin dress. black high heels with ankle straps and somewhere in some adult store, probably, she had bought dark hose with a black seam running up the back like the women wore in the 1940's movies. Her shaved eyebrows had been drawn with a black pencil...lots of blue eye shadow, tons of makeup and powder and so much rouge, cars could have mistaken her cheeks for a stop light when she crossed the street.
"No," Buddy replied nicely, "I don't smoke."
"Well, then," she persisted, "do you wanna start?" "Pardon?" "Start smoking! What's the matter, you don't understand English?"
"Yes, I understand and speak English fluently, it just that I don't want a cigarette and I don't wish to start smoking ever."
"You...uh...you bought that guy a drink, didn't you?"
"I don't see why that should concern you?"
Scott realized that the woman was drunk and didn't want to insult her or cause a ruckus, but at the same time, he wished she would go away.
"Is HE your boyfriend?"
"No, HE is not."
"Then why didn't you buy me a drink instead of him?"
Scott was about to lose his cool.
"Because he was sitting there minding his own business. Had you done the same, then I might have bought you one as well. But since I see I can't seem to get you to let me alone, I will not buy you a drink because I'm certain it will lengthen your stay."
"You're tellin' me to 'buzz' off?"
"Just like the king bee would, yes."
Now she became angry, "Listen, buster, there ain't no such thing as a king bee. There's only a queen bee...and that's me in this bar!"
Just then, the bartender sat two drinks down, one in front of Scott, and the other in front of the stranger on his left and said, "Sally, for God's sake, go powder your nose or wipe your cooze and leave this man alone. He's not going to buy you a drink because I'm not going to serve you another drink. It's not even five o'clock and you're already soused."
"The queen doesn't take her orders from a drone," she announced to the bartender.
"Sally, if you don't leave, I'll drone your ass right out the door onto the sidewalk where you might get your stinger bent! And by the way, will you please use the mens' room?" She turned in a huff. "Fuckin' drag queen !!" he muttered.
Giving up the fight, Sally left to go to the ladies room, saying "Buzz, buzz," to everyone she passed.
Then the stranger looked at Scott and said, "Your first time in here?"
"Uh...yes..."
"I'm sorry Sally tried to hit on you. She won't do that to any of us regulars. She knows better. You became her new 'patsy'!"
"Uh...thanks for telling me."
"And thanks again for the drink."
"It's my pleasure."
"My name is Fred..."
"Hello, Fred, my name is...is John," Scott managed to say.
"You live or work around here?"
"Er...no! I...I'm work for the county and had to come over in this area to do some property appraising."
"You the one that raises the taxes?"
"Uh...no! That's done in another department."
"You seem jumpy! Are you all right? You didn't have a little fender bender or something before you came in here, did you?"
"No...I...I've just had a long hard day."
"I see by your ring finger that you're married."
"No, I'm...separated."
"You got another woman on the side?"
"No..."
"...another man?"
Scott froze from the stranger's remark. "Why would you ask that?"
"I don't know. You could be gay."
"What?"
"Relax! It's no sin. I'm gay and I don't care who knows it!"
"You're gay?"
"As a Christmas sleigh in August..."
"I...I'm just curious how you can openly say that to a complete stranger like me."
"Hell, I'm not ashamed of it. You never heard about gay pride?"
"Only on the TV news."
"Then you've never been gay?"
"That's what I said...only...maybe I was once when I was a kid."
"Listen, buddy, being gay is like being an alcoholic. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic...once gay..."
"I got married and had kids. That's why I know I'm not gay."
"Who are you kidding and who are you hiding from behind your wife and kids? That's how a gay person fools himself. He thinks a woman can change his sexual drive and feelings for the same sex. Shit! Didn't you stop and ask yourself why you're separated? I mean the REAL reason?"
"No...no, I didn't!"
"That was probably your first step in returning to true happiness. Admit it to yourself, why don't you? You once loved a man...and since that time, no woman, not even your wife, has ever completely satisfied you, has she?"
"I...I don't know."
'Well, think about it. If you 'don't know', it's pretty sure she hasn't. Don't punish yourself. Go out and find a guy, one you're attracted to, get him to go to bed with you and then suck and fuck all night long and you'll be back on the road to happiness."
"I...I think I'd better go," Scott said, "I...I have to get clear across Boston in five o'clock traffic."
"Why don't you stay and have another drink and leave when the rush hour is over? There's lots more I could tell you."
"I'm sure there is...but, well, another time, maybe."
"Well, you found you way to 'Andy Panda's' once, I suppose you can find it again. I'm here every day at four o'clock, without failure. So drop by any time you want...I'll be here."
"Thanks, I'll remember that."
Scott took out a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and left it on the bar and left, but not before he ran into Sally one more time who screamed, "Buzz off!" as Scott went out the door.
Scott was shaken more now than before he went into the bar for a drink...and that guy at the bar, Fred, how could he look so straight and freely admit he was gay? Scott wondered if he was out of touch with social standards in Boston? He was reared in Plantation, Florida, which was a westward extension of Fort Lauderdale, one of the 'gayest' populations in the U.S. But then, Scott didn't go to bars, straight OR gay, and his immediate world was encompassed by his family and his students at CU. Come to think of it, Scott really had no close male friends. If someone were to ask him right off the bat who was his best friend, he would probably say his wife, Kathy, but if the same question were to be asked about his best male friend, Scott would've been stumped for an answer. He's probably reply, 'Clay Lawson', but hell, he'd not seen or heard from Clay in over ten years. Some best friend, huh?
As he drove home, he began thinking about Clay, but soon Clay's image was replaced by Lonnie's in his mind. Was THAT why he was attracted to Lonnie? Lonnie was about the same age as Clay was the last time Scott saw him. Did he expect Lonnie to have the same feelings for him that Clay had had and did Scott expect Lonnie to pick up where Clay left off in their relationship? That HAD to be it! Why else would he had sprung a boner as Lonnie rested his head just below Scott's waist? The conclusion Scott came to wasn't completely satisfying, but to some degree it did make sense and helped Scott to overcome part of his guilt and shame.
When he pulled into his driveway, Skip and Bobby were playing in the front yard and ran to meet their dad with glee. Scott picked up both boys, one in each arm and slung them around while they giggled. The boys loved their dad and the feeling was mutual. Scott had begun teaching Skip the trombone and Bobby the trumpet nearly four years ago and for two ten year old kids, they played remarkably well. Kathy stood at the front door, pleasantly smiling at her three men playing.
The Parsons had a good life together and after both boys were of school age, Kathy took a job at Boston County Hospital. Not more than a month went by before she was offered higher paying employment at Charles Alford's, a private physician's office, as the RN in charge. Her salary added to Scott's made everything affordable to them and their kids. Kathy and Scott's sex life, as with most adults married over a decade, had dwindled from five times a week when they first married, to a present, once a month. Shortly after Bobby was born, Kathy got on the pill and neither she nor Scott had the desire to have any more children. Kathy had no qualms about Scott's nightly ritual by himself in the bathroom before they retired for bed. Sometimes when she was shopping at the local bookstore, she would buy the latest 'Playboy' or 'Hustler' magazines and place them in a rack beside the commode for Scott to peruse and do whatever he needed to satisfy his sex drive.
Most nurses had reputations of being oversexed, making ideal married sex partners, but Kathy treated so many patients with STD's, HIV, and AIDS, that her desire to have sex had all but vanished, so she quietly encouraged Scott to perform his solo acts in the bathroom. She never bothered to look at the magazines she bought, particularly 'Hustler' or she would have known that 'Hustler' featured photo layouts of women and men engaging in all kinds of crude sex. Scott, without giving the pictures a second thought, would sometimes get more excitement looking at the nude men as the nude women. But since they were photos of men AND women engaged in intercourse or other acts, all of his fantasies seemed normal and he put them aside once he had finished HIS solo act and thought nothing more about the naked men.
The next morning at band practice, Buddy arrived on time and checked his car to make sure it hadn't been tampered with during the night. He was a bit jittery about seeing Scott after the preceding day's episode and took his place with a group of band members instead of checking in with the band director as he usually did each morning.
Buddy assembled the band across the field before Scott came out of his office. Finally when Scott did appear, he walked out of the band building with his arm around another band student, Phil Newsom, the first chair trumpet player. Buddy was surprised and puzzled? Why was Phil with Scott and what if anything had just happened between them? Buddy's surprise feeling was overshadowed with a tinge of jealousy and he wasn't' sure why until Scott called him over to talk to him and Phil.
"Good morning, Lonnie," Scott said, casually.
"Morning, sir."
"I've just been talking with Phil and, after a restless night, trying to sleep, I decided that it might be best if we had an alternate drum major, especially after the sickness you suffered during practice yesterday. By the way, how are you feeling?"
"I'm all better, sir, good as new."
"I came to the conclusion last night that maybe I worked you too hard and if you had someone to stand in for you, it would give you a bit of rest, and it would be good to have someone ready just in case you became ill again."
"Excuse me, sir, but do I really need a stand-in?"
"Probably not, but Phil has agreed. Of course he'll never be the acting drum major. You're still in that position, but Phil understands all that and is nice enough, or rather I should say, willing to learn your movements and fill in when necessary."
Buddy feelings were a curious mix of hurt and anger. Was Mr. Parsons trying to punish him for what happened or ALMOST happened in his office, or was he really doing this for the band as well as Buddy's benefit? Buddy liked Phil and held no grudge because he felt Mr. Parsons' actions were his own and hadn't been instigated by a conniving trumpeter.
The meeting was over and Buddy took his place in front of the band while Phil ran to get into the trumpet section on the line and rehearsal began. This week's musical half-time show consisted of up-tempo tunes from Broadway overtures, including, 'Everything's Coming Up Roses', 'Comedy Tonight', 'There's No Business Like Show Business', 'Another Openin', Another Show', and 'One' from "A Chorus Line" for the finale which of course ended with the entire band doing waist-high kicks which were very difficult if one had to play a mouth instrument.
Buddy led the band for the first two hours, then Scott asked him to sit and rest while Phil ran through the same routine. This raised Buddy's anger level to almost the point of exploding verbally, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to make a scene, especially after what Clint told him about the band being suspicious of his and Scott's student/teacher relationship being more than it actually was.
As Buddy sat in the stands watching Phil, Scott came over and sat beside him.
"They look pretty good, don't you think?" Scott asked.
"Yeah, I suppose," Buddy replied, sullenly.
"Lonnie, you don't think I asked Phil to stand in for you as some form of punishment, do you?"
"No, I...we...I've done nothing to be punished for...or at least, I don't think I have."
"Of course not! I was just worried about you since yesterday. Maybe you didn't feel as sick as you looked, but when you almost fainted, it scared me. You're still the leader of the band and I want you there every time we perform."
"Sure...thanks..." Buddy replied, still unconvinced.
Scott patted him on the back reassuringly and said, "I'll put you back on line right after lunch break."
Buddy watched the practice for the next half hour until noon and even though he hated to admit it, Phil DID look good in Buddy's position. Afterwards, Phil came up to see if Buddy wanted to eat lunch with him, trying to be friendly as possible, but Buddy refused nicely. Then as Phil started to walk away, he turned once again, trying to ease any tension between the two of them.
"Hey," Phil said, in a quiet voice, "have you ever been to a place called, 'The Foxhole'?"
"No, what's that?"
"It's this dirty bookstore, see? If you've got an urge to...you know...wanna 'get off', but not by yourself, you can get plenty of help in the back room."
"Whaddya mean?"
"You know...hand job, mouth job..."
"You mean...with another guy?"
"Probably, but you're never sure. It's dark and you can really see who's doin' what to you..."
"No, thanks! That sounds too queer for me."
"Ah, man, you got the wrong idea! YOU don't do anything to anybody, you just stand in the dark and let someone else do it to you."
"NO WAY, PHIL! My folks brought me up believing that sex had to be something special and that doesn't sound very special to me...it's more like some kind of perversion and I don't go in for that!"
"OK, don't tie a knot in your shorts, I was just trying to be friendly and get you to go somewhere with a bunch of your fellow band members that you never seem to want to hang out with. Sorry I bothered to invite you."
Phil turned and left, disappointed, hurt, and a bit angry at Buddy's refusal. If truth be known, Buddy became very curious about Phil and the 'Foxhole', but with his reputation with Mr. Parsons on the line, so to speak, Buddy didn't want to get involved with anonymous sex and blow jobs even though Phil and other band members did it without being ashamed, apparently.
The rest of the day's rehearsal was uneventful. Buddy replaced Phil in front of the line and the routine began to shape up until they could kick and play at the same time without cutting their lips on their mouthpieces. Buddy did not go to see Scott at the end of practice. Instead he went to his car and drove straight home, although he was tempted to follow Phil's car to learn the address of 'The Foxhole'.
Later in the evening after he'd gone to bed, Buddy kept thinking about the adult book store. It WAS a way to lose his virginity and if he were careful, no one WOULD ever know. As he reached beneath the waist band of his white briefs for his nightly release, he heard his door open quietly and Toby came into the bedroom and slid under the sheets to assume his usual spoon position next to his big brother. Buddy tried his best to poke his erection between his legs to hide it from Toby, but it was nearly impossible, but soon they both fell asleep.
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It was the third week in August and Marc and his girlfriend, Sandy, were ready to harvest the fruits of their labor which began back in late April. Marc and Sandy, who were very much into science, wanted to have some reason to keep their relationship together throughout the summer, and since Marc was still a year away from being old enough to get his driver's license, they decided to work on a science project instead. Together, they had accumulated nearly three hundred dollars, saved from their allowances, and Marc had gone online at Sandy's computer and found a site offering dozens of seeds, seedlings, and plants of herbal teas.
Sandy's father had built his wife a small solarium/greenhouse on the back lawn where she could grow orchids. After one season when all of her plants had died, so did her interest in gardening. So Sandy asked her mother if she and Marc could use the glass house to grow herbal teas. Liz thought it sounded like a good idea after reading several articles about the healing effect of green tea, and if Sandy and Marc succeeded, as Sandy's mother, she could benefit from the crop.
So Marc paid his dad two hundred dollars in cash to buy the teas, using Ted's credit card. Ted agreed and was proud of his son's industrious adventure. Marc and Sandy searched the net diligently for plants which grew large foliage quickly for they had a plan to secretly disguise their real reason for the project...to plant and grow some Cannabis Indica seedlings which they had ordered from Denmark.
So during the next two weeks, many boxes arrived at the Sholler address filled with peat moss, vermiculite, and perlite to mix with the top soil and mixtures of nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium to fertilize it. They surrounded the cannabis with Hibiscus Paradise, Chinese green tea, dandelion tea, chamomile, sage, catnip, lemon verbena, comfrey, scented geranium, and assorted mint plants...peppermint, orange mint, and spearmint. They coded each plant or seed so that if anyone asked they could identify the tea plants with a lot of knowledge. Extra care was given to the cannabis to quicken its growth as they wanted to try their first marijuana before school started again in September.
Although the instruction said that marijuana takes about six months to flower and pollinate before the leaves are ready to be harvested for use, Marc and Sandy decided the leaves were large enough at three months to hasten their experiment. The other plants had grown nicely and some were large enough to cut, dry, and make teas in Liz's kitchen. Marc had paid a school buddy five dollars for one package of white roll cigarette papers and he and Sandy met late on afternoon in August to see if they had been successful and perhaps get experience their 'first buzz'. They had timed it so that Sandy's parents were going out to dinner and to the theatre with friends. That meant Marc and Sandy could be alone for at least four hours in the greenhouse.
Neither of them had ever tried a plain cigarette, let alone marijuana, but Marc had done his homework on the Internet and followed the instructions on how to 'roll your own'. After he had completed making six joints, it was time for the acid test. Marc took one of the cigarettes and lit it. He had seen many people smoke marijuana on TV shows and movies and knew that the secret was to inhale and hold it inside his lungs to get the full effect before exhaling. He took two deep puffs before handing the lit joint to Sandy who followed Marc's lead. She choked on the first draw and went into a coughing fit, but as soon as it subsided, she tried again. This time, she felt the bottom of her lungs get warm and slowly a dizzy but relaxed sensation crept upward to her brain. It felt wonderful to her. Marc was already feeling a glowing effect as he inhaled his third puff, followed soon by a fourth.
It took only five minutes for both of them to get high and both began to laugh out loud as they leaned on each other for support. They stood facing one another as their foreheads touched. They each felt uninhibited and soon a romantic rush hit them simultaneously and Marc turned his head to kiss Sandy on the lips. During the years of 'going together' as boyfriend and girlfriend, Marc had given Sandy a quick peck when saying good night, but now he wanted to give Sandy a REAL kiss...an open mouth kiss and Sandy welcomed it obligingly. Next their teenage hormones began to take over as Marc's hands began to explore parts of Sandy's body he'd only dreamed of touching. Having her inhibitions lowered as well, Sandy moved one hand between Marc's legs and grabbed him in his crotch, feeling an erection for the first time.
Marc quickly lowered his hand to unzip his jeans and pull out his organ to accommodate Sandy's hand play. Feeling an urge to reciprocate, Marc lifted one hand under Sandy's short skirtlet and found her panties already wet from her excitement. He stooped to take pull down her panties while at the same time she was anxious to shuck all of her clothing. She raced to take off her clothes as Marc anxiously removed his. Only a moment later, they were both completely naked and they stopped to take the time to see what they'd only imagined seeing. In each other's eyes, they were both beautiful. Sandy didn't laugh at the first erect penis she'd ever seen, but eyed it curiously. What made it get large and hard? And would it fit in the sacred space between her legs? The only way to find out was to try. So she took Marc's erected organ and guided to her waiting orifice and slowly it slipped inside her.
It hurt her initially, but as soon as her clitoris was stimulated as Marc began thrusting into her lightly, she was ecstatic and wanted more of him inside her. As their lower bodies met to and fro, their hands were exploring the other mysterious areas while their lips were locked in a passionate kiss. Five minutes later, both of them reached a gigantic orgasm and Marc filled her with a continuous flow of his male juice until her insides were warm and wet.
This was the 'first time' for both. It was something that neither of them would ever forget for the rest of their lives. Slowly Marc pulled himself out of her and the two of them sat on the ground to catch their breaths. Ten minutes later, Marc lit another 'funny' cigarette and they shared it until it was time to have their second 'go' at their newly acquired way of showing affection. They made love four times during the next two hours, each time was better than the time before. This gave them two hours to 'sober' up, so to speak, before Burt and Liz returned home, but when they did, Marc had already gone home to dream and Sandy had gone to bed to sleep.
Luckily, Ted and Lisa didn't see Marc when he came in the door and went upstairs to his bedroom. Marc lay in bed reliving each moment as if his mind had an 'instant replay' gadget. He wondered if his older brother had ever had a similar experience and, more so, wondered if he could talk to Buddy about it. Thirty minutes later he went to Buddy's door and cracked it enough to see if Buddy was still awake. To Marc's surprise, he discovered Toby nestled against Buddy's body and wondered what, if anything, was going on between his brothers, and if so, for how long had this been going on? Marc quietly closed Buddy's door and returned to his own bedroom. He needed to masturbate one more time before going to sleep. Maybe he would have the nerve to talk with Buddy the next day since he surely could never talk to his dad about his experience. As he lay there, Marc suddenly wished he had looked closer to see if Buddy and Toby were clothed or sleeping in the raw? Oh, well, it was a day and night for Marc to remember!
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(To be continued in "If Love Were All" chapter three).