This is a story about a love between two young boys. The usual disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then please leave this story unread now. There are within the story explicit descriptions of sex between boys, but that is not the main theme; so if your thing is reading stories that are purely sex in nature then this story will probably not be to your liking.
The story is made up of both fact and fantasy. The people herein are real, but their names have been changed. The rest of the story, as I said, is a mixture of fact and fantasy . . . perhaps how I wish it had happened. As to what is fact and what isn't, I shall keep that to myself. As usual, comments and suggestions are welcome; flames will be ignored.
In this part of the story I make reference to some unpleasant experiences I had at the church I was attending at the time. I want to state up front that it is NOT the organized Church I am criticizing, nor is it God himself! My problem, in this case, was with one individual within a certain church. Given my age and how long ago it happened, I presume the man is dead by now so I cannot hurt him personally, nor do I want to. But I am pretty sure such things happen today in much the same way.
I also wish to remind readers that the actions and reactions presented here are from the viewpoint of a fourteen year old boy, and a very depressed and confused one at that. I guess that's why I'm writing this, to express some of the frustration I felt at one point in my life. For most of my life I have been involved with the Church, and still am. I personally need the influence I get there, but I remind everyone that the organized church is made up of human beings, and none of them is perfect. Bottom line: I am NOT criticizing the church, I LOVE the church!
I also want to say that I have been receiving a lot of email regarding this story. At first I tried to answer every one, but that got to be a bit of a burden and started eating into the time I had for writing the story itself. I presume from your email that you'd rather I spend time writing and not answering mail, so for now I will just say a big THANK YOU! To all who have taken the time to write. Believe me I appreciate it, and each note inspires me!
OK, enough legal and commercial stuff.
"That was my dad," Kenny announced as he came back into the room after running to his parents' room to answer the phone. "They're coming back in the morning. Dad says it's gonna snow about eight inches tonight and another foot tomorrow night, and he wants to be home before the driving gets too bad. They're leaving as soon as it's daylight." "What about your brother?" I asked dreamily. "He's fine... just a touch of the flu or something. But Mom had to check on him when she found out he wasn't feeling well. You know how mothers are." Then he realized what he'd said, and my current situation. "Oh, sorry Charlie, I forgot..." "It's ok," I said. Of course it wasn't ok, but what else could I say? "And believe me," I said, "I do know how mothers are. Mine wasn't always sick."
It was almost 2 AM, so Kenny crawled into bed and we settled down for sleep. He said that he'd have to get up early and clean the driveway so his dad could get the car in when he got home. I said I'd help him, then I'd have to go home and clean our drive. "But," he protested, "I wanted you to meet my dad." "Already did," I answered, "Remember he's my dad's insurance agent." "I know, but things are different now." "Different? How are they different?" "Charlie, we... you and I... well, I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, but things are different."
I didn't know what Kenny was talking about, but I had an idea and I wasn't too thrilled with what my mind was doing as it processed the evening's activities. I knew that what we'd done was pretty heavy stuff and I had enjoyed it more than anything I'd ever done in my life. I knew that there was far more significance in what we'd done than simple physical pleasure. And I guess I knew at that point, although it would be a long time before I could admit it to myself, that I was gay. I wanted to do it again, but in my mind I felt that I could never do it again, especially with Kenny. I had come to love him intensely in the short time I'd known him, and being a little over a year older than he, I felt that I was making him into something he wasn't.
It wasn't long before I heard Kenny breathing slowly and deeply, a sure sign that he was asleep. He seemed so contented, so at peace with the world! I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't touch Kenny's naked body. It seemed as though he was made of fine china or something and if I touched him he might break. Or perhaps I was afraid of waking him; but I simply could not bring myself to touch him as badly as I wanted to. So I lay there beside him and contemplated the events that had brought us to this point in our relationship. I started feeling guilty. In my mind I had maneuvered him into bed, like the terrible demented fag I was.
In the morning we got up quickly and washed and dressed. Kenny offered a pair of his longjohns, saying that it was pretty cold out. I accepted gratefully, but there was no erotic pleasure in wearing them. But they did feel nice and warm, and they fit perfectly! "It's a new pair that's a little big for me," he explained.
After bolting down a breakfast of toast and orange juice, we went outside to tackle the driveway. "Wow!" he exclaimed, "It musta snowed a foot last night!" It hadn't snowed quite that much, but it had drifted in the driveway so that there was over 14 inches of snow to be shoveled. "You can use Dad's shovel," he instructed, "And I'll use mine." "So you always clear the drive?" I asked, making conversation. "That must be fun!" I said sarcastically. "Yeah it is," he answered. "I love doing things like that with my dad. It gives me a chance to talk to him... you know, things that I can't talk to anyone else about." I reflected on that comment and wracked my brain for something, anything, that I could only talk to my dad about. I came up blank.
"So tell me about your mom?" Kenny inquired as we shoveled, "Is she getting better?" "She's not going to get better," I answered, "She's dying! She's got Multiple Sclerosis." "Oh shit!" Kenny exclaimed, "Charlie, I'm real sorry." "Yeah, thanks Kenny. Seems like the only one who won't be sorry is my dad." "Charlie," Kenny said as he dropped his shovel, "That's a terrible thing to say! Your dad..." "My dad wants her out of the way!" I shouted, "Is that so hard to understand?" "But... But she's his wife!" "Yup, and there's the problem. He's got a new girlfriend now and Mom is just in the way. They even moved her into a nursing home so my dad's girl friend could move in with us. Now she acts like she owns the fuckin' place."
I was getting quite emotional, so I asked Kenny if we could drop the subject. He agreed that was probably a good idea. We shoveled the rest of the driveway in silence, then I told Kenny I had to go. "Will I see you later today?" he asked. "I dunno Kenny, but probably not because it's gonna snow again tonight. And tomorrow I'm gonna be tied up between going to Church and doing the rest of my homework." And at that we said good-bye and I left for home.
It took over an hour to walk home. The walking was hard through all the snow, but that was ok with me because I wanted to take my time anyway. My mind was whizzing again, recounting the events of last evening and this morning. Had I victimized Kenny? In my mind I had engineered the whole situation, and although I hadn't planned on all that had happened, I still wondered if I'd got Kenny into something he really didn't want to get into. And then there was the whole issue of the bigger picture: that I would not have done what I did if I weren't queer. That thought hit me like a bold of lightening, and I started thinking of myself as some pervert who preyed on boys, luring them to this or that hideaway and then abusing them.
I wondered how Kenny felt. Did he know how badly I had seduced him? He had to know now that I was a hopeless faggot. It never occurred to me that I hadn't done anything to him that he didn't also done to me. I wanted so much to be his friend, to be close to him, and now all that was gone because of my lust for him. I wanted to die! I wanted to be normal, whatever that word meant. In less than twenty-four hours I had changed my whole life, and screwed up any chances of ever being a part of Kenny's life - the one person in the world I wanted to be close to!
"Where the hell have you been?" Dad demanded when I walked in the door at around 11 AM. "I stayed overnight with a friend because of the snow," I answered. Well, it was half true anyway, "Then I stayed this morning to help him clear their driveway." Wrong thing to say! "Well I guess that means you're all warmed up for ours, so get busy!" I knew better than to argue, and I really didn't feel like it anyway. As I was headed out the door, Ellen, my dad's girlfriend asked "Why didn't you call?" "I did," I lied, "But there was no answer." "We were here all evening but there were no calls," she returned. "I dunno," I shrugged, "Maybe because of the storm." "Well," Dad said, "You're here now, so get a move on because I have to go out right after lunch."
Clearing the snow this particular day didn't seem half bad to me. It gave me the solitude I craved, allowed me to think. Yes, the physical part of what I had done was totally awesome! But the long term effects, the harm I had done to a good friend, the lifelong effects on both of us, were quite another thing. I wanted to drop my shovel and run to Kenny's house, to hug him and tell him I was sorry, but I couldn't! Not now, not ever! Besides, he would probably think it was just another ploy by me to get into his pants again. And frankly, I wasn't sure myself that that wasn't the case. So I began making plans for the rest of my life, at least the next two years, that didn't include Kenny, and consequently neither Ron nor Timmy either. I knew that once they heard about what I'd done they wouldn't want anything to do with me either.
By the time I'd finished the driveway I was soaked from sweat. I went upstairs to change my clothes, which was when I realized that I was still wearing Kenny's underwear. The thought that it was his, not mine, and that he'd had his body in it, even if only to try it on, got me so hard I was literally in pain! And then I thought of returning it to him, only to remember that I could never get that close to him again, and that thought finally started the tears. I flopped down on the bed, still wearing the underwear, and sobbed. It seemed to me that everything I tried to do, every thought, reminded me of some aspect of my idol. I had to have him, but I couldn't! I had to be close to him to survive, but that was impossible! So I did the only thing I could think of, the same thing I'd always done since I was born: I went to see my mom.
Of course Mom wasn't much help, through no fault of her own. She was pretty well bed-ridden now, but her mind was still as sharp as ever. "Charlie," she inquired, "Is something wrong? You seem kinda down in the dumps." "Not really," I answered evasively, "I just miss you." Miss her! Oh man how I missed her! She would understand! She would know what to do. But I couldn't lay all this on her, with her lying in bed not knowing how much longer she would even be alive. I ached to tell her all, but I didn't. In all we had a pretty good visit, and I stayed long after visiting hours. The lady who ran the place, a Registered Nurse who had converted a large old house, had taken a liking to me, so knowing how much it brightened my mom's day when I came, she waived the rules as long as Mom didn't get too tired. Today I got the impression that she sensed something was wrong. Then the shocking revelation hit me that maybe she could tell what was on my mind just by looking at me. And of course if she could tell, so possibly could everyone else!
"Are you going to church tomorrow?" Mom asked, "I hear there's another snowstorm coming." Mom had always taken me to church when she was well, and it had become at natural to me as breathing. "I'm planning to go," I answered, "I'm supposed to sing a solo." "I wish I could be there," she said wistfully. "I have never heard you sing since your voice changed, but I can tell from the way you speak that you must have a beautiful baritone voice." There it was! Yet another sexual reference: "Since your voice changed!" Puberty! In my case the worst curse that I had ever endured! But it still gave me a warm feeling knowing that she was so proud of me. Of course she was the reason I could sing at all. As with just about everything else I could do, I'd been taught by my mom. Even at 14 I couldn't help thinking that she had given me a great start in life. I also knew that she would have got me through my current crisis if she could, but now it was time for me to grow up and take care of her, which of course amounted to little more than visiting as often as I could, which was no chore at all for me.
Before either of us was ready, it was time to leave. It was almost 9 PM and the snow had started falling again. So I kissed my mom and promised her I'd get back when I could, and I walked out into the snow.
That night as I lay in bed, the wind and snow howling outside, I did something I'd never done before in my life: I masturbated until I had an orgasm. I don't know why, but I'm certain it wasn't simply because I was horny. Kenny had told me about it, saying somewhat self-consciously that he'd done it two or three times. Perhaps I was just curious what it was like, perhaps a form of rebellion. I really don't know, only that the entire time I was stroking myself I could not get my mind off Kenny. His beautiful body, that dark, soft yet firm skin, the way he responded to every touch of my hand. I still had no earthly idea what was going on in my head, or my heart or body for that matter; but I knew without a doubt that Kenny was an absolutely necessary part of my very existence! And now he was gone, and it was my fault. So what reason was there for me to go on? As I experienced a bone shattering orgasm, spraying my stomach and chest, I remembered the orgasm that Kenny had had in my mouth. I could almost taste it, yet it seemed a million miles away. I longed for the taste of his body, the essence of his most ultimate climax. I thought of wiping my own jism with my finger from where it had landed on my body and putting it in my mouth, but that held no attraction for me. It wasn't sex I wanted, nor the taste of its products; it was Kenny. With or without sex, it didn't matter. So instead I lay on my bed and cried.
The church service was about what you might expect. The Junior Choir was singing, and I had to sing a solo. I'd been singing since I was about 5 years old: first my sister and I sang duets, then I sang solos. Now that my sister had left home to get married I was called upon quite often to sing, and I absolutely loved it! I had even had a few organ lessons on the huge pipe organ, after having had a good grounding from my mom on the piano. I'd gotten up early and shoveled the new snow from the driveway... it hadn't been as heavy a storm as predicted, but still there was enough there for me to work up a good sweat, then a bath and clean clothes before church, and I felt really great and ready for the world.
For the first part of the service I had completely relaxed and forgotten my problems, enjoying the music, the surroundings, the peace. And then the minister got up to preach, and it took only a very few minutes for me to realize, so I thought, that he was talking directly to me! The topic was morality, and the preacher began talking about promiscuity and all the evils that it propagated. I was already feeling somewhat guilty, but then he started on homosexuality. He got more and more excited as he ranted on and on about how such people are possessed by the devil himself, and how they lure others to their sinful, demented lifestyle. I was sitting in the choir loft behind the preacher looking out at the congregation, thinking that everyone in the entire church was looking directly at me! What in the world was I doing here anyway? All dressed in a holy choir robe, singing the praises of Almighty God... the very same God I had blasphemed horribly less than two days ago.
After the church service, I got rid of my choir robe as quickly as I could and tried to run out the back door, but the minister caught me before I could escape. "We enjoyed your solo," he said as he grasped my shoulder, "Your mother has done a wonderful job teaching you to sing to the glory of God." "Thanks, Mr. Pike," I managed to answer. I wanted to be a tiny bug and crawl into a crack in the floor, but Mr. Pike would not give it up. "How's your mother?" he asked. "Not very good," I replied, "She gets pretty lonely, and I can't get out to see her as much as I'd like to." "Get to see her? Isn't she at home?" "No, sir. My dad said she'd be better off in a nursing home, so she's there now. I thought you knew." In fact I KNEW he knew because I had called and told him myself. Now it came more clear to me... I had been quite upset and crying, and the good preacher's comfort had been a few well placed words and then a dismissal, saying he had a wedding rehearsal to attend.
The revelation that Mom was in a nursing home seemed to work better than my best efforts to get rid of the preacher and get out of there. His attitude seemed to change drastically, he gave me another pat on the back and made some comment about my singing for Jesus, and then I was dismissed. I thought it strange, but what did I, a kid, know? And besides, all I wanted at that moment was to get gone before he had a chance to make the accusations personally he'd made in the pulpit! And that I did.
I didn't have a lot of luck doing homework the rest of the day. First there was more snow to shovel, then I went to my room and closed the door, and fell fast asleep. By the time I woke up it was after 10, so I just got dressed and crawled under the covers and went back to sleep.
School Monday morning was, to say the least, interesting. I had decided that the best way to get over my obsession with Kenny was to completely avoid him. Believe me it wasn't easy, but I managed. We had a pop math quiz in second period which I totally screwed up.... Nice going, Charlie! And you want to be an engineer? The rest of the day was pretty normal and without incident. I didn't see Ron, Timmy or Kenny until last period: History. I determined to be out of the room and gone before Kenny came bounding in, and managed to pull it off only to run headlong into Ron in the hallway. "You coming over?" he asked. "Not tonight," I said, "I've got some things I've gotta do at home." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. I had decided on the spur of the moment to see if I could find a job working after school, knowing my visits to Ron's house were over if I were to avoid Kenny. And I didn't want to make him feel awkward, so I needed something else to occupy my time. And of course the money would come in handy.
By the time I got home Ellen had two phone messages for me: one from Ron and one from Kenny. I'd had no luck finding a job... I'd discovered that very few people would hire a fourteen year old with so many 16- and 17-year-old's available. My selling skills were abysmal, and that included selling myself. Of course in my mind the reasons for my failure were purely because I was queer and everyone knew it. I didn't return the calls, but just went to my room, did my homework as best I could, then went to bed.
I started playing the piano more than I had in almost two years. I'd been getting quite good before my mom had to give up teaching me, but by that time I'd had enough of the basics so that I could go on from there by myself. It wasn't ideal, but it worked for me, and it kept me occupied when I was home alone. I kept telling myself that I was getting over my infatuation with Kenny, but in reality it was getting more intense. Not only was I no longer communicating with him, I wasn't even seeing him any more. The few times I did get a glimpse of him at school I beat a hasty retreat before he saw me, or so I thought. But I had to know it couldn't last forever, and sure enough about two weeks later, as I was trying to learn a new piece of music, the phone rang. Without thinking I answered it, only to hear that voice I loved so much.
"Charlie?" Kenny said shakily, "Where in the world have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere! When I get back to home room you're always gone!" "Yeah," I said vaguely, "I've been pretty busy lately." "Too busy to go to Ron's lab? Man, you must be busy! What have you been doing?" "Oh, you know, this and that. I've been working on the piano quite hard, and spending quite a bit of time with my mom." Well, they were both true, even if the intentions weren't as honorable as they sounded. "Yeah, I've been thinking of her. How's she doing?" "About the same I guess. She certainly isn't getting any better." "Well, I just wanted to call and see how you're doing. We talk about you all the time." Yeah, I thought, I'll just bet you do. After we'd hung up I thought I'd really been a bastard to Kenny after he'd taken the trouble to call, but I was so mired in my own guilt and self pity I was able to put it on him. So I went to bed and had a good cry. Again.
Christmas was coming fast, and with it a new dilemma. Ron and I had been in the habit of exchanging gifts, but what was I going to do this year? There were Timmy and Kenny in our group now, and I could hardly give one a gift and not the other two. And besides, would he even want to exchange gifts with a faggot? But before I had solved that one I had a face to face confrontation with Ron.
"Charlie," Ron said after practically tackling me in the hall one day after school, "What the heck is going on with you?" "Going on?" I evaded, "What makes you think something is going on?" "Come on, Charlie! We've been best friends for a long time. We've been through some pretty rough times together and I know you. What's happened?" "Nothing, Ron. And for the record, you don't know me nearly as well as you think you do." "I know more than you think I do, Charlie." he said in the tone of voice he often used when he wanted to make a serious point. "What's that supposed to mean?" I flared. I could feel my face flush and my fists clench. "It just means that I know something's really eating at you. When that happens you go off by yourself and don't talk to anyone. I know why you do that, but you're gonna explode if you don't talk to someone, so how about it?" "Nothing's wrong, Ron. But thanks for asking... I gotta go." And with that I left him standing there, his mouth hanging open as he watched me practically run down the hall and out the door.
Christmas came as usual before I was ready. I can't say that I was expecting it to be the best Christmas I'd ever had, with my mom not there, my sister somewhere in the northwest of Canada and newly married, leaving my dad, his girlfriend, and me! They'd started having quite a few parties, and of course Christmas is a time for parties anyway. I was pretty well excluded from these activities, which was fine with me, except of course for the times when I was called upon to play the piano for the drunken bunch to sing Christmas carols. In my mind I was a performing bear: brought out to do my tricks, playing the piano, then put back in my cage. That was probably a little unfair, but I couldn't help the way I felt. If I'd known then what I know now I would have realized that I was very depressed; but I'd never heard of such things, I only knew that life wasn't a particularly pleasant experience right now. The important thing to me was that I had managed to avoid confrontation with any of my friends for several weeks, and I was starting to relax just a bit.
It was Christmas Eve when my life took another abrupt change. I had been to see my mom in the afternoon, had come home about 7 PM and was in my room, doing nothing special but lying on my bed and feeling sorry for myself. As usual we had company downstairs. I heard the doorbell in the distance, then the voices of my dad talking with some other man. Next thing I knew my dad opened my door and said "There's someone here for you Charlie. He needs to talk to you." "Who is it?" I asked blankly. "It doesn't matter who it is, he wants to see you so get your tail down there!" I knew by his tone that I'd be well advised not to challenge him, so I got up and stumbled sleepily down the stairs. At first I didn't recognize the man, then I found myself staring into the same deep brown eyes I'd loved so much. I was looking directly into the face of Bob Collins, Kenny's father!
"Hi Charlie," he said cheerfully, "Sorry to bother you, especially tonight, but we're having a little get-together, and the one who was coming to play the piano couldn't make it at the last minute. I was hoping you could come and play for us for a while. Kenny says you're a really good pianist." "I... well...." I stammered, "I play some but..." "Please come, Charlie," he pleaded, "Kenny's been really worried about you. He said Christmas just wouldn't be the same not knowing if you're all right." "Of course he'll come!" My dad said in a way that sounded threatening to me. So I busied myself cleaning up a little, put on my coat and boots, and joined Mr. Collins in the car. There wasn't much conversation on the drive to the Collins house. Mr. Collins made some small talk, but nothing of any substance, except for one thing he said just as I was getting out of the car: "It's none of my business, Charlie, but I thought you should know that Kenny feels terrible about whatever it is he did to you. He's been trying to apologize for weeks, but he never sees you. He just doesn't know what it is he's done. You'd be doing me a big favor if you'd talk to him about it."
I ignored the comment and walked up to the back door. If I'd been thinking clearly I would have smelled a rat. I mean, how many people go running around on Christmas Eve looking for someone to play the piano? And of course I assumed that the "gathering" would be some of the Collins' friends, and if my own situation was any indication, Kenny would be in his room or out somewhere. Stupid I know, but that was my assumption.
Just as I was reaching to knock on the door, it opened and Mrs. Collins appeared. "Why hello, Charlie!" she said cheerfully, "Come on in, we've been waiting for you." I stepped into the kitchen and was greeted by all the wonderful smells that used to emanate in our house when my mom was at home. That didn't do anything for my already depressed mood. "Go ahead into the living room," Mrs. Collins directed, "They're all in there." I was quite surprised that both Kenny's parents were so nice to me, but then I presumed that Kenny had probably not told them what I'd done to him. I certainly would not have told my dad. So I walked towards the living room and as I stood in the doorway I almost died of shock.
The first person I saw was obviously Robbie, Kenny's brother. He looked like a larger clone of Kenny himself. Man, they could have been twins! He had the same dark skin, black hair, and gorgeous brown eyes. Even his facial expression reminded me of Kenny! Looking past him I saw Ron, Timmy, and... and Kenny himself! Now I was getting nervous! Had I been set up? Why in the world had they brought me here? My heart was pounding so hard I knew they must hear it. As I stood there trying to get my breath, I was vaguely aware of Kenny making his way toward me. When he was right in front of me, his face only inches from mine, he spoke. "Thanks for coming, Charlie," he said, "I was so afraid that you wouldn't." There were tears in his eyes, and those eyes! The deep brown eyes that were a window to Kenny's soul were working overtime tonight. And then just as I was getting my bearings and my breath back, Kenny's arms went around my shoulders, and his lips met mine in a deep, passionate kiss! I tried to pull away, to tell him that everyone was watching, but he would have none of it. It's all over now, I thought, I'm gonna die tonight! They've brought me here to humiliate me and who knows what else! So I decided to enjoy my last night on earth, and returned the kiss.
"Now I can enjoy Christmas!" Kenny exclaimed as he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thanks Dad, I owe you one." "I.... er..." I stammered, trying to find words to explain what had just happened. "It's all right, Charlie," Kenny said so softly it was almost a whisper, "They know. They all know and it's ok." "They know?" I echoed, "Know what?" I was still very much in a state of denial and certainly not willing that my friends, or those who had been my friends, know all the sordid details of my "dark side." "That you and Kenny are lovers," Mr. Collins said from behind me. Then everyone was talking at once. "I had a talk with my dad about a week ago," Kenny explained, "I was so confused about my feelings and what we'd done, and why you were avoiding me like the plague." "Then he talked to all of us," Ron added. "He explained it all, that sometimes when you fall in love it isn't with the opposite sex." "Robbie helped a lot when he got home from college," Kenny continued, "He knew a gay couple at school and had learned a lot about such things."
"Gay?" I questioned, not knowing what else to say and having no idea what being happy had to do with any of this. "It's a new word to describe homosexuals," Robbie explained, "It was some sort of a code word in England so I'm told, and is starting to spread around the world." "So you're saying..." I said haltingly, "That we're... uh... that you think Kenny and I are... are... uh..." "Gay!" Kenny finished the word for me. "I know we are, Charlie!" I could not believe that he actually said the word, and to describe himself! "Dad's gonna talk to you later if that's ok, but tonight all you need to know is that we've all talked about it and it's ok. We know why you've been avoiding us, and we all love you. Especially me!" That last remark was punctuated by another deep, long embrace and kiss, this time much more readily returned by me.
It was my turn to produce some tears now, as I realized that the thing I'd always thought to be totally impossible had come true! And in the bargain I'd been spared the burden of having to deal with the fact that I was probably gay. It had been done for me! The feeling of having things out in the open, of being able to express my love for Kenny publicly, at least in this small group, was indescribable! "It's the least we can do for you both," Mr. Collins explained, "You're going to have enough problems going through life gay, you certainly don't need problems at home!"
Mt. Collins went on to explain that he had suspected Kenny was gay for quite some time. In answer to my unspoken question he said that he was not, but that he'd been accused of it all his life because he'd always been quite effeminate. So those accusations prompted him to do a lot of research into the subject. He had scoured libraries, consulted with several psychologists, and even spoken to every gay man he could find. When Robbie came home for the Holidays he had added a whole new insight to the situation, and they had both shared what they knew with the boys. Robbie added that my reaction to my first experience was not all that uncommon, especially with no one to talk with about it.
"We agreed we wouldn't exchange gifts because you'd be embarrassed," Kenny said as he produced a small wrapped box, "But I couldn't resist, Charlie. Merry Christmas!" I took the box and tore it open. Inside was a silver man's identification bracelet, engraved on the outside with the word "Charlie," and on the inside with two hearts intertwined, one engraved with my initials, the other with Kenny's. Now the tears really did flow!
Well, I did play the piano for them that night, and I must say it was the best I'd ever played! I wowed everyone, including myself! We played and sang, loved and lived, until past midnight. The entire evening Kenny was either standing behind me with his arms draped on my shoulders, or he was sitting beside me. It was totally awesome, being constantly touched by someone you love. I would have liked to go to bed with Kenny when the time came, but of course it was Christmas and I was expected home, for what reason I really don't know. So when we decided to call it a night Mr. Collins drove us all home, dropping me off last. "Thanks for coming, Charlie," he said warmly, "We'll be getting together for that talk real soon. Until then keep your chin up, you've got some pretty great friends there." "Yeah," I said sheepishly, "I know that now." He gave me one of the warmest father/son hugs I'd had in a long time, then I was out of the car and he was gone.
Everyone was in bed when I got into the house, but that was ok. I had to do a lot of thinking before I faced my dad, so I didn't mind being alone. I'd had a pretty great evening, and Kenny and I were facing two whole weeks out of school. We had snatched a few moments earlier to plan vaguely on spending a lot of that time together, but this section is getting pretty long so I guess that story will have to wait.
Part 4 will be along soon. I am really enjoying digging up all those memories, re-living them in many ways. If you like this story or have any comments, please e-mail them to charlieje@mindspring.com