This is a work of pure fiction, , but based on the author's feelings, beliefs, and in some cases, experience. Come to think of it -- it might not be very pure either! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat. If you are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading this kind if story, shame on you for reading it - - please stop here. If not, - - ENJOY!
Cast of Characters:
James Thomas Arthur (Jamey)
Harold Brian Arthur -- Jamey's Brother (Habby)
Harold Garfield Arthur -- Jamey's dad
William Pitts -- Roommate (Will)
Ronny -- Will's best friend.
George Wiggins
Darrel -- George's roommate
Dr. Steve Jordan - Doctor
From Chapter7:
Oh! -- hey! Why don't I just pick you up and we'll come back to my place? For pizza!" Steve said.
"Okay." I said. "See you in a few!"
Chapter 8
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
"C'min!" I hollered.
"Oh!" Steve said. I thought you weren't gonna change." He said as he saw me putting on a clean tee.
"I stunk!" I chuckled.
"Ok. No hurry, I guess." He sat down on my chair. "Jame, I want to tell, you -- I've had some time to think about what has happened in the last 12 hours." He paused and I wondered if there was any significance to him calling me Jame -- after I told him that Will called me that. "I don't want you to think that I'm -- er -- well, I mean, I just -- Shit! This isn't coming out like I wanted it to."
He stopped and gathered his thoughts. "(SIGH!) Okay -- as far as I'm concerned, we are two guys who are -- both -- grieving together. I always grieve a little when I lose a patient, but -- this one seemed more poignant somehow. Maybe it's because we -- er I mean, I seemed to connect with you so -- well, so easily. I was just afraid that you might think that I was -- er -- taking advantage of your grief to -- get closer to you."
"Actually that didn't really occur to me, Steve. But -- well -- thanks for being there for me -- when no one else could." I said as I pulled up and buttoned my Levis. This was one time I kind of wish they weren't quite so tight, as I pushed my package in to zip them up. I grabbed a Pendleton lumber-jack shirt that Dad gave me last Christmas. "Guess I'm ready!"
In the car -- he drove a Mercedes CLS500 Coupe -- he asked me how my dad reacted to the news about Will.
"He'd be here if he could. He's mostly concerned about me, I guess. Habby -- my brother -- took it pretty hard, my dad said. Dad feels he needs to be with Habby now. He's kinda wild -- unpredictable, you know?"
"Oh? Did Habby know him pretty well?"
"Steve -- I hardly could say I knew him pretty well. But in the last four months -- we got really close. But -- no, Habby hardly knew Will. I think he was just empathizing with me. Habby's 4 years younger than I am, and we have been very close -- for brothers 4 years apart. But he's been pretty hard headed and a real pill lately -- ever since he noticed girls!"
"So - - you could say that Habby is not gay."
"Habby -- gay?" Hah! Not even close. He seems fascinated by my gayness, but not THAT fascinated." I said.
"What about your dad?"
"My dad gay?" I was paranoid about that question.
"No! What does he think about you -- being -- that way."
"Oh!" I was visibly shaken. "He's okay with it. He'd like me to try girls. I'm just not much interested."
"Me neither." He said quickly as he pulled into the take-and-bake pizza shop. "What do you like?" He followed even quicker with.
"Everything." I answered.
"All at once -- combination?"
"I like that the best!" I said. Steve went into the store. I stayed in the car. I fell asleep again. I felt the car start up and then start to move. I felt very comfortable in the CLS500 soft leather seats. As we drove to his place, I fell asleep again. I could feel the car's movement -- and when we turned, but I was mostly asleep.
"When the car stopped and the motor stopped, I relaxed even more. Then I felt a hand on mine. We're here, Jame." Steve said softly.
I closed my hand on his and brought it up to my lips. "I love you so much, Will!"
He put his other hand on my cheek. "It's Steve, Jamey."
"Huh!?" I awoke with a start. I sluggishly looked over at Steve's concerned face. As my eyes focused, I saw him. I smiled. "Oh -- hi." I said in a kind of high pitched, confused tone. "Where Are we?"
"My place. Let's go in, huh?"
Steve lived in a condo overlooking some cliffs. Below was the ocean.
The sun was down but the twilight coming off the ocean was like a drug. I walked out on to his deck. "That's a long way down!" He said.
"Don't worry." I said. I stood at the edge of the deck, holding on to the railing. It was mesmerizing. There was soft music coming from next door, and mixed with the soft sound of the surf pounding the rocks far below, I drifted into a half catatonic state. I started awake once, worried about falling, but the railing was too high to fall over, so I relaxed again, my forearms steadying me on the railing.
I was transported back to my youth. I was six years old when my mom died. Habby was 2. I was standing on a hill overlooking Los Angeles.
"I used to bring your mother here often when we were dating." My daddy had said. He was holding Habby in his arms. I looked up and Daddy was crying. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you boys." Dad said. "See that white thing down there?" He pointed to a spire of some kind. "That's where we buried Mommy."
"Won't Mommy ever come back, Daddy?" I said.
"Mommy will always be with you, Jamey -- always -- in your heart."
My eyes popped open. Back to reality! What was that my dad said? He had told me that mommy would always be with me. But -- I missed the part about her being in my heart. I guess it was over my head. Well, I made that come true. She was always with me all right. Now it made more sense. Mom WAS always with me! Now Will always will be with me too! I started to cry. My knees buckled but I caught myself and half stood as I leaned on the railing. I sobbed and sobbed. Only this time it felt good. It felt good to cry. I had held in so much for so long! I felt a pair of hands and arms lift me up.
"Time to eat." Steve said. He looked into my tear stained face and smiled. "I see in your face that you have let something go. Feel a little better?"
"Yeah. Thanks. This is exactly what I've needed -- for about 16 years!"
"You can explain that later." He said.
He had a variety of beer, wine and soft drinks. I prefer root beer with pizza. He said he liked beer, but since he was gonna be at work in less than 3 hours, he chose root beer too.
After we ate our fill of pizza and Steve cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, he led me to his den. "Do you wanna talk? Or would you rather just watch a movie?" He asked.
"I dunno. I don't feel like takling much, but I don't think I want to watch a movie either. You know what? It just feels good -- feels right -- being here with you right now, Steve. We don't have to say anything -- unless you want to. I guess I just want to zone -- in my own thoughts -- but with you here it is somehow - - nicer."
"I feel the same way, Jame." He said. He walked over and flipped a switch. His gas fireplace was aglow with flames. We sat on opposite ends of a couch, both transfixed on the flames. I let my eyes close slightly, momentarily, and let my head relax against the back or the sofa. I kept watching the flames, letting my mind wander from one subject to another, all based on the last 24 hours.
My cell phone vibrated. I looked and it was dad. I saw Steve's relaxed arm stretched out with his hand on the center sofa cushion. He was still staring at the fire.
"Hi Dad." I said quietly.
"Hi Jamey. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Probably more okay than I have been in a long time."
"Care to explain that?" He asked.
"Not now, Dad. When I see you -- next weekend maybe."
"How about the funeral?"
"I dunno. I assume his mother will be doing that. Steve will tell me, no doubt."
"Are you - - with Steve - - now?"
"Yes. We just finished dinner and we're watching a fire."
"A fire? Where? On TV?"
"No," I laughed. "In his fireplace."
"Oh. I guess you and this Steve hit it off, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess we did. It's really easy going. HE'S really easy going.
"Well, as long as you think you'll be okay, I'll let you go."
"Okay. You decided not to go out -- definitely?"
"I may go out. I think I'll take Habby to a movie or something."
"Thanks for calling, Dad."
"Bye Son."
After I turned off the phone, I looked at Steve, who was still transfixed on the fire. I touched his hand. "That was my dad."
"I gathered." He said as he squeezed my hand and then withdrew his.. "I know you don't want to talk, but -- do you mind if I do -- a little?"
I shrugged, smiled and squeezed his hand back.
"When I was little, I had a best friend -- fifth grade -- Jimmy Darby was his name. At ten years old, we were both curious about little boy stuff. We soon learned that we had identical looking penises. He was shorter than I and kind of husky. We thought it was a grand joke to refer to ourselves as `the twins'! Sometimes we would be in the toilet and -- even though there were no doors on the stalls, it was not nice to peek. But either he or I would climb on the toilet seat and look down at the other until we would giggle and the other would look up and giggle too.
"We never did anything more than that, except to walk around all the time with our arms around each others' shoulders. But that was not unusual. Lots of guys would do that with their best friend.
"But in sixth grade Linda Starr -- who liked me -- called us queers. I think she was jealous of Jimmy. I `went steady' with Linda the year before. Which meant that I gave her a ring that I wore, and she put it on a chain around her neck. We never saw each other out of school. But in sixth -- when Jimmy and I were po close, we liked to dance with me when rain kept us from playing on the playground at recess. I was the only boy who could dance!"
I heard all he was saying, but was just kind of half lying down with my eyes closed. I could have gone to sleep and he probably wouldn't have known -- or cared. I think he needed to talk about these things.
"Did you ever have any experience like that?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry! No. I never had any friends close enough to walk together like that. I saw others doing it -- and I was a little envious. And so -- that's probably why no one ever called me gay. By the end of high school, I think everyone assumed I was, though. I did a little fooling around, but no one besides the guys I did it with ever knew about it -- as far as I know."
"How're you doing, Jamey?" He asked.
"I don't know why I can't seem to get enough sleep. I'm not much company. Sorry!" I apologized.
"I didn't ask you to dinner for company. I was just worried about you." He paused a moment. When I didn't say anything he said. "I also wanted to talk a little about -- the things I -- ere -- we've been talking about."
I thought about that for a few moments, my eyes still closed. He seemed kind of disappointed, even though his avowed concern was with me. I wondered if that was really all he wanted. I decided to trust him. "So," I started, "what do you think? Has this helped any?"
Steve became instantly more animated. "You know what, Jamey? I've never talked to anyone this intimately -- about this -- or anything else. Just being here with you and talking -- honestly -- about feelings I have been afraid to even think about in the past -- it's really -- pretty energizing -- or something."
"Hmh! Energizing, huh?" I exclaimed. That's an interesting reaction."
"Maybe -- well- maybe energizing is not quite how to describe it."
"It's good to get clear -- at least with yourself what you're feeling. That's one thing I learned from my shrink."
"Your shrink?" He said
Shit!
"I don't like to talk about it, Steve, but - "
"That's okay you don't have to - "
"but maybe it would be good to talk about it," I said. "if you have any desire to listen."
"Hell, I made you listen to plenty, Didn't I?" He chuckled. "Shoot!"
I told him about my mom and my trying to hold on to her for so long. He listened pretty intently for the whole story. I actually woke up a bit while explaining it to him But I'm surprised it didn't put him to sleep! But I think it helped me a little more with the whole reality thing. I had never even opened up this much to Will about this. I couldn't help feeling some bit of -- gratitude, or adoration -- or something -- toward Steve -- for being so sweet and listening to me recite stuff that was more for my benefit than it was for him.
"Jamey, I don't want to hurry you -- or shut you up -- honestly, but it's time for me to go to work. Oh Crap! I haven't left time to take you home. Can you stay here until my shift is over. I promise I'll take you home when I get back. God, I'm sorry I didn't think of this before! Did you have anything pressing - ?"
"Naw! I'll be fine. Thanks!"
I said.
"Hey! Here's the remote for the cable. Do you know how to - "
"Yeah! No problem. It's almost exactly like the one we have at home."
"Jame, sorry to run off and leave you like this!"
"It's okay -- really. This is a lot more pleasant than the dorm room."
He knelt at my feet and removed my shoes. "This couch is really comfortable to lounge on -- or -- if you're more comfortable, you are welcome to go in and lie down on my bed. It'll be obvious which side I don't sleep on. I seldom make the bed unless I'm expecting company."
I looked at him for a long moment. "You've got to be one of the sweetest men I've ever met, Steve. Thanks."
He grabbed some things and ran out the door. As soon as I heard his car leaving, I slipped my shoes back on and went outside on the deck again.
The sky was crystal clear, and the half moon shone brightly on the surf down below. There were millions of stars in view. "This would have been extremely romantic if I weren't alone." I thought. I closed my eyes a moment, and imagined Will there with me. I knew this was not smart, with my history, but knowing that I gave myself permission to "be with him" in this beautiful setting:
"So, Will, what do you think?"
"About what, Jame?" He answered.
"I never talked with my mom about her - - death. It was like if I did, she would not come back. What do you think about this situation? Do you think it's -- not healthy -- or -- what?"
"Did you want to talk about my death?" He asked.
"I really don't, but I think we better. You know this is what the shrink really wanted me to do with my mom. Talk to her knowing full well it was only my own imagination that was supplying her side of the conversation. So, Will, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Do you miss me?" I asked
"Why would I miss you? I'm with you always. I do miss touching you, though!" He said.
"I know!"
"That doctor -- Steve -- he seems awfully nice, Jame."
"I know."
"Well? Whattaya think? Would he be good for you?" He asked.
"I dunno! He's awfully old! 36! He's old enough to be my dad!"
"Yeah, I suppose."
"But maybe I should not be looking for a certain age."
"And -- maybe -- you shouldn't be trying to replace me, Jame."
"Yeah - - it's too soon.?"
"I didn't mean that. I am a unique individual. Steve -- nor anyone else -- will be exactly like me."
"Well, it IS too soon!" I said.
"I dunno." HE said, ignoring what I said. "Maybe the difference in age or the amount of time spent -- or maybe wasted -- isn't important."
"I dunno either, Will. I know I still miss you -- duh! It's only been less than 24 hours! How can I be - " I stopped.
"This is your conversation, Jame." He said.
"Do you think you could be open to the possibility that Will might really be here, Son?" I whipped around and looked in the direction I thought this third voice came from. No one.
"What the - " I exclaimed. "Why can't I see you, Mom?"
"You see that's the interesting thing. If you could see me, chances are, I'm not really there, but rather a figment of your imagination. But I am here now, and because of your emotional state and because God cares deeply for you, You can hear me. I've never been far away though. And if you can give up the pretend conversation in your head, Will could also hear and maybe speak to you."
"Is he there with you, Mom?" I asked.
"No, but if you clear your mind of your imaginary conversation, and call him, he'll probably be able to come."
"Will?" I said to the wind. I opened my eyes and looked down upon the ocean. It was getting pretty cold, and the wind was picking up. The waves were crashing down more heavily on the shore. I called out once more. "Will?"
"I'm here, Jamey. You have something to ask me. It's the only reason that they let me come. Where is your mom? I thought she was here with you."
"If you don't see her -- um -- could you -- if she was here?"
"I could. But she's not. Maybe because her being here might prevent you asking what you have been wondering."
"Wondering, Will?" I said. "What could I be wondering? You mean, Is there is life after death and all."
"Will, if you're not honest with yourself, who else can you be honest with? Think: What question has been bothering you ever since I had the accident? I can't answer unless you ask. Rules are rules!"
"I'm confused!" I complained. "What possibly could I want to ask y - oh! You mean about you and Ron?" He didn't answer anything. "Will, you told me before you died that it was okay -- that nothing happened. I accepted that!" I argued. He didn't say anything again. Why was I arguing with him? Or was I arguing with myself? When it was clear to me that he wasn't going to talk again until I asked the right question, I started to tremble. It was cold anyway, and I felt like running back into the house. But I knew I would be running from the question forever if I didn't -- I started to cry. I started to scream and bellow like an animal. Finally I was brave enough to say,
"Oh, Will! I feel so stupid -- so selfish! I - " I couldn't say -- I couldn't even THINK what I was feeling. It seemed a betrayal or something. "Will," I blubbered, "Why? Why were you in bed with -- with -- with -- Ron?" I had said it. I was so sure I already knew that it was completely innocent. But I was lying to myself. I WASN'T sure about that! And I realized that if I could not trust Will -- then I could never trust anyone easily. "Will - - DID you do anything with Ronny -- that justified your dad's -- NO! NOTHING could justify what he did! Did you do anything to justify my suspicions?"
I felt dirty even asking. I didn't want to know the answer.
"No, Jame, nothing."
"Not even what you used to do when you were kids?" I said -- this time accusingly. I felt terrible that it came out that way, but it was the way I felt!
"Not even that, Jame."
All of a sudden I was very cold. I called for Will several times, but he did not answer. Then it came to me: he had told me the only reason he was allowed to speak to me was to answer that one question. I wasn't sure, but I assumed he was still there. "Mom?" I called. No answer from here either.
I looked down on the beach one more time. As I watched, it became enshrouded in darkness. I looked up and clouds had blown in and covered the moon and the stars, effectively turning off my light. It got a little warmer, but was still too cold to stay longer. I went back inside. I didn't know how long I was out on the deck. I looked at the wall clock. 2:00 PM. Geez! Almost 3 hours! No wonder I was so cold. I was shivering. I saw a blanket under a table. I grabbed it and shucked off my shoes and wrapped up in it on the couch.
I was asleep in minutes. A voice came to me in my sleep. I couldn't make out what it said at first. "Will?" I said.
"No." Then the voice said the same thing it had before. It seemed a little louder, but I still could not understand what it said. It was like a faint whisper.
"Who is it?"
"Someone who loves you." I understood that! "You are loved from on high. You are free to live and love again. You shall not lose the love you had. But rather another, more intense -- and different -- love shall overtake you."
"Is it - " I started.
"You will know it when it happens."
I wanted to ask more, but seemed to know that this was all I was going to get.
"Thank you!" I said.
"I was hoping not to wake you!"
"Wha- at?" I said, shaking myself awake. There was Steve standing over me. I felt close to frozen!
"You must have not closed the door all the way. It blew open."
Oh! I'm sorry!" I sprang awake and ran for the door. I tripped on the blanket and fell flat on my face on the carpet.
"It's okay, Jamey! I already closed it. That's when you woke up - - thanking me! You okay?"
"Well, except for maybe a rug burn on my nose and a bruise to my pride -- I guess."
"The wind is terrible out there. There's no need to take you home -- unless you need to be there tomorrow morning for some reason - - ?"
"No. I'm cool." I said. I picked the blanket up and headed back toward the couch. "This couch IS very comfortable!" I said. I sat down.
"Oh no! It's way too cold in here! You're coming into my bedroom!"
"Awww, Steve! I -- I can't impose - "
"Not a problem, Jame! Actually I have a rollaway I could pull out, but if you don't mind, I'm kinda tired. Just sleep in the other side of my bed! It's a king size!"
He took my hand and I let myself be led to his bed. I lay on the top of the spread. "Jamey -- can you undress yourself?"
"I don't have to - "
"Can you sleep in your underwear?" He said.
"Sure, but - "
"Good! Take off your outer clothes and get under the comforter and sheet! Look, I'm too tired to argue, so you do what you have to, but I'd rather you didn't get in or on my bed with your clothes on."
I complied. He shed all his clothes and climbed into the other side and picked up a remote and shut off the lights.
"G'nite, Jamey."
"G'nite, Steve. Thanks!"
When I woke up in the morning, I smelled bacon. At first I thought I was home and dad was cooking Sunday morning breakfast. His waffles were second to none. Very fluffy and crispy and light. It slowly dawned on me I was not in my bed. Then gradual memory came back. I was at Steve's house. I wandered out to the kitchen in my underwear.
"Hi!" Steve said, all cheery. "You left your cell phone out here. Your dad called. He somehow contacted another of your friends and they are bringing your car back up here this morning."
"Wow!" I said. "Thanks."
"He figured you needed it -- or might -- with the funeral and all this week -- probably. I figure you should probably get back to your dorm. You slept very well last night. Get your clothing on and breakfast will be ready."
He was cooking scrambled eggs as I disappeared in the bedroom. I quickly pulled on my pants, shirt and shoes and socks, then came back. I looked in a hall mirror on the way out. My hair was comical.
We didn't say much at breakfast. I was quiet, and I figure he was just giving me my space. After all, I was still deep into grieving my lover's death. Steve showed so much compassion and empathy. Maybe it was because he was a doctor and had seen so much of this close up. He knew that different people handled it in diverse ways.
"Where did you meet him?" He finally said.
"Huh?" I responded. "Oh. Will? We were roommates at the start of the semester. I was a newby and he was assigned my orientation. I don't know how it was that we were roommates. I expected to have a roomie that was my own age."
"Will was older than you?"
"Yes. Two years older."
"I guess I knew that." He said. He smiled -- seemingly to himself. "Well, guess I better get you back to your place before your dad shows up. I doubt he knew you were at my house."
"He knew. You were there when I told him last night."
"I wasn't listening." He said. "Before we go - - Jamey?"
"Yeah?" I said.
"I really do mean this: if you need anything -- please call me. And I will admit it's not all charitable on my part! I have never told anyone else about the things we have talked about here. It felt free -- or something. I really didn't know that I was suppressing these things -- the feelings -- the memories. I have not thought of Jimmy Darby in -- well a long time! And ^Å I NEVER thought about him -- consciously -- like that! So if you need to talk to someone -- please let it be me." He smiled apologetically.
"Steve - - all I can say is ditto! I really like you. You may have saved my life! No! I don't mean I would have done anything really stupid. But you have helped me deal with this a little easier -- I think. So I want to be your friend -- if you can stand my `teen angst!' There's a lot more than I'd like to tell you!"
"Really? Great! Same here!" He said. "so - - ready to go?"
"I -- guess." I said. Looking around. "I really didn't bring anything with me." I grabbed my phone and stuffed it in my pocket, and followed him out the door.
As he dropped me off, I said, "Steve -- do you think you'll hear anything about the funeral? From Will's mom's actions there at the hospital, I doubt she will want me there."
"You need to go -- regardless! If she recognizes you -- too bad. Just hang back and respect her space and - - maybe she'll respect yours. I'm not usually privy to funeral arrangements after the body is taken to the morgue, but if I hear anything, I'll tell you for sure. I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks! And - - omigosh, how can I think you enough for what you have done for me since -- since -- the other night. Thanks!"
"We'll be in touch!" he said and he sped off.
Notes: As usual, any comments are welcome, to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com. Thanks and love, Steve