Moose Head Lake Kidnapping

THE MOOSE HEAD LAKE KIDNAPPING by Ben Ezra Jacobson

Chapter 3

FLYING HOME

"Please select a seat after you stow your carry on luggage in a compartment. Seat belts must be fastened before we take off. As soon as we are in the air and the captain speaks to us...you will be free to move about the cabin," our stewardess said. She smiled and was very kindly dispositioned to assist the fellow travelers.

"Do you want to sit next to the window or next to the aisle," Sam asked me?

"Next to the aisle," I had replied. "I am not sure that I want to look out the window from the height we will be traveling."

With my gear stowed safely over head...at least that which I was able to carry on...the rest was in the cargo hold and would be retrievable when we landed in Chicago, I sat back in my seat to relax. When we boarded the airliner...the sky was still sunny and clear...but the stewardess was telling one of the other passengers that a storm was anticipated between Maine and Illinois...and we might have to fly above it or around it. I had read about jet planes often dropping a few hundred feet and if the information was correct, I prayed that it would not be on this flight. I also heard the stewardess say that there was some possible problem with the air conditioning. I wondered if that meant that it would not work or perhaps it could not be shut off. Surely the staff had everything under control...but these little snippets of news kept me in a constant worry over what might lie ahead.

Sam squeezed my hand. "It will be fine, Ron...don't worry. I am here with you."

I squeezed his hand back and smiled...but I was anything but reassured.

Twenty minutes later we were taxiing down the run way. My head began to swirl as we became air born. I gripped the arm rests with great fury. Sam chuckled and put his left hand over my right hand as I gripped the arm rest between us.

"Breath deep Ron...it will help."

I did so and surprisingly, it did help. The plane began to level off and I began to relax. Thirty minutes after take off, I could see the rest of our party beginning to move about the cabin as breakfast was being served. Sam and I had chosen the last seat at the tail of the plane for two reasons: (1) It is said that in an emergency landing...the last row of seats in the tail were the safest and (2) so I could hold his hand with out a lot of on lookers.

"Would you care for some breakfast now," our stewardess asked?

She handed us each a short menu of selections.

"What," Sam had said, "No trout and eggs, no moose meat gravy over biscuits, no..."

She laughed, " Right...another Maine camper, huh? We can offer you scrambled eggs and sausage or butter croissant filled with bacon and cheese."

"That sounds good to me," I interjected. "Could I have a Coke with it, please?"

"Sure can sweetie. What about you Algonquin...would you like the same," She winked and smiled.

"Yes, please," Sam had replied.

"Didn't that just piss you off," I said...expecting him to be offended by what appeared to me to be a slur?"

"Not at all," Sam replied with a grin. "She meant nothing of it."

This was a revelation to me. He was still grinning when I looked over at him. Our breakfast came shortly and the stewardess was still bantering with Sam and he was dishing it right back at her. I wished that all of the nations citizens could be on such good terms. People were becoming more litigious over some of the most foolish comments and actions in these modern days.

By the time we had been in the air for 45 minutes, we had flown out of sunshine and were experiencing some turbulence. Rain was falling and in the distance...we could see lightning. The air had become quite cool. When I asked about the temperature, I was told that the air conditioning was not functioning properly and they had yet been unable to moderate the temperature.

"I can offer you a blanket sir...if that would help," she said.

I thanked her and stated that I would like that very much. She returned with a tan wool blanket with the company insignia on it. I unfolded it and spread it over my legs, lap and shoulders. It felt wonderful. It was large enough for two...so I offered the other half to Sam who graciously accepted it...pulling it up to his chin. I reclined my seat and closed my eyes. It seemed to diminish the bouncing feeling of the unstable air. Normally the lights would come on when it got dark in the cabin...but when they did not...the captain came on the public address system and stated that the side lighting was malfunctioning from what they believed to be a blown fuse. He asked the fliers patience and indulgence while the engineer worked to restore power. Well, I thought...there is nothing wrong with the ventilation system and the air conditioning except that they could not seem to turn it back to a more comfortable range. The cabin seemed to become

progressively darker. The FASTEN SEATBELT sign came on once more. I had not unfastened mine.

I closed my eyes once more...and then noticed it. A hand was creeping over my knee and moving upward to my groin where it was cupping my balls and pressing on my cock. I looked over at Sam who was grinning from ear to ear. He was attempting to unfasten my zipper. There was no one close to where we were sitting. I unsnapped my pants and pulled the elastic of my briefs below my testicles and let him take my penis into his hand. It immediately became super hard. He very gently slid his hand under my testicles and eased them higher over the elastic band. With the blanket pulled up to my chin, he moved his hands higher and when he reached my nipples...he gave first the right one and then the left one a little tweak. They and my dick got harder and stood out.

"Slide them down, Ron," he suggested.

"Are you nuts," I replied..? "What if we get caught?"

"It's safe," he replied. "No one is paying attention to us...and there are no passengers in the seat in front of us. Pull them down to your knees."

While the stewardesses were in the front of the plane...I slid my slacks down to my knees and Sam's hand went deeper. I felt him pull some of the hairs on my legs. He pulled one out and took his hand out from under the wool blanket.

"You have such curly hair," he said. "If you keep watch...I could go under the blanket."

"No, Sam," I insisted. "That's too risky. Just forget it."

"Come on," he said, "Don't be such a chicken. Where is your sense of adventure?"

I could not believe that I was having this conversation. Some one a few seats ahead coughed loudly. I felt lips go down on my erection. Sam was under the blanket and sucking me. I closed my eyes for a second wondering how soon we would get caught and would we be arrested when we landed. His tongue went between my legs and licked first one ball and then the other before coming back to my pulsating penis. Once more he went down. The saliva in his mouth was a fantastic lubricant. I could feel little tingly feelings racing up and down my shaft. My prostate gland felt like it was swelling and then became real tight as the sensation become almost electric. I moaned and then tried to cover it with a cough or two. The electricity within the tissues of my penis were becoming involuntary as the pressure was building. Suddenly, I felt an orgasm coming on. My lower torso began to twitch as I ejaculated several big loads into Sam's mouth. The

impulse spasmed, then again and again. I heard Sam gag as he swallowed. It was quiet under the blanket as he wiped the head of my dick with a cloth...probably the red bandanna handkerchief he always had with him. I felt a few more drops of semen ooze out and the cloth whisked them away. Slowly he scooted back to the floor board in front of his seat.

"Ron, is anyone looking our way," he asked?

"No, not that I can see," I replied.

He eased himself back upward into his seat and quietly pulled the blanket back up to his shoulders. He was grinning from ear to ear.

I looked at him and whispered, "I can't reciprocate as much as I would like to...it is just too dangerous on the plane."

He nodded his head. "That's OK...I understand.

I reached under the blanket and felt his hard cock...now a little sticky from all the oozing of seminal fluid. With my right hand, I massaged the head of his penis after pulling back the fore skin. He had a proliferation of seminal discharge and I massaged his head with it. It was only a matter of a half minute before he erupted. With his red bandanna...which he passed to me, I wiped him off and passed the handkerchief back.

He leaned towards me. "Wish we were home with an hour or two to kill. I would like to have had you on your hands and knees and put my pony into your corral for a half hour or so."

"Save that thought for when we get home," I said.

Sam patted my knee and when no one was looking, he kissed the side of my face. I must have dropped off to sleep because I heard some bells ringing and the captains voice saying to be sure all seat belts were fastened and that we would be landing in a few minutes. He did not say where we would be landing. I looked at my wrist watch and it was not quite noon. Surely we must be close to Chicago.

The captain announced that we would be landing at O'Hair field shortly. Outside, it was still pouring down rain. The nap had relieved my concern about making the trip home...and Sam's administrations had relaxed me.

We folded the blanket and returned it to the stewardess and put our seats back in the regular position. In a few minutes...we heard the wheels squeal as we touched down. There was an exit in the front of the plane and one in the rear. We took the latter. In the terminal we all reconnoitered with our luggage and took a taxi to the railway station where we would catch the Illinois Central going south. We would arrive approximately around mid afternoon. I was beginning to grow weary of travel. We ate lunch in the club car. It gave us a lift. While the other's played cards to pass the time...Sam and I stretched out on opposite seats in our coach. The next thing I knew...Mrs. Biffle was gently shaking us.

"Time to wake up dears," we are home.

Professor Biffle had arranged for a charter service to pick us up and drive us to the university area ten miles to the east. He and Mrs. Biffle sat directly in front of us and Brian Biffle, whom we all called Biff...was sitting behind us in the bus with his buddy Jin.

Although my parents were home, I went to the Biffle house with them. Sam and I were given the guest room and Biff took Jin to the bedroom that he shared with him. I called my house but the answering machine picked up.

"Hi Mom, Hi Dad...I am at Dr. Biffle's house with his family. They have invited me to stay over night with them. I will call you in the morning and we can talk further. Bye. Love you."

The professors Levi...did not return the call that afternoon or evening. That did not come as a surprise to me. I was sure that they would not like the idea of my bringing my best friend, Sam back with me. Dr. Biffle had spoken to them a day or so before we left Moose Head Lake and explained that he was bringing a native American boy back to work at the university and he and their son had become friends. They were polite to their learned colleague but showed little emotion about the idea of taking him into their home. That was when Dr. Biffle tried to explain my circumstance to them. It was openly clear that they were not too concerned about that either.

When the Biffle's approached the professors Levi about their son coming to stay at the Biffle residence... their response was... what ever makes him happy.' He hung up the pay phone from in town and came back to the cabin on Loon Lake...irritated at their indifference to their own son. He told Mrs. Biffle that if it were not for repercussions against Ron...he would go to the university president and see if he could start proceedings for their dismissal. Fortunately, Mrs. Biffle, after kissing his forehead, assured him that he was made of sterner stuff,' and would do what is best to help Ron and Sam and overlook the Levi's coldness.

I was all too happy to be under the Biffle's roof. Mrs. Biffle had arranged for their house keeper to have food on hand when we arrived...and sat about to set out an assortment of cold cuts, chips, salad and soda. It would have seemed mundane any other time...but this afternoon... returning from a day of travel...the selections seemed like a grand buffet to us. We enjoyed reflecting on the summer's pass times and when bedtime rolled around at 10:30 PM...I was ready.

Biff knocked on the shower door...and whispered, "Ron...don't use up all the hot water. You can dick Sam in bed. Jin and I want a shower before turning in too."

I chuckled, "Right...we'll be out in a couple of seconds."

Sam turned in the warm water to get the last traces of soap from his skin and helped me do the same. We stepped out... onto the floor mat while Jin pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them. Biff did the same and the two of them hustled into the shower which was still warm. Biff already had an erection and Jin was not far behind. As we dried our bodies...and watched them through the steamy glass... we saw them soap each other up and rinse off just as the hot water began to wane. They too, hustled out of the shower and began to dry themselves and each other.

"Your parents are going to be annoyed with us for using up all the hot water," Sam suggested.

"Naw..." said Biff. Their bathroom has it's own hot water heater. They did that a few years ago because I took so many showers during the day that there was never any hot water. A second heater solved the problem."

"Cool," said Sam...who had never heard of two water heaters in one house. He told us of their home when his father was alive...how it had a tank and you had to build a fire under it with wood or coal...and wait for the water to heat. He said that he learned to adjust to cold showers.

I remembered thinking that I had never had to worry about any of life's luxuries...and now I almost felt ashamed at my parents prosperity in comparison to Sam's family struggles.

Sam and I went to the guest room where the bed was already turned back and the windows opened for fresh air. Biff and Jin went to their room and opened windows. With the lights out...we could hear them talking and then the bed began to squeak. It was not difficult to imagine what they were doing.

Sam squeezed my hand and then kissed the side of my face.

"I am so tired, Ron...would you mind if we waited until morning to have some

sex play?"

"Not at all," I replied. "I too, am really tired...and sleep sounds good."

I rolled over on top of him and kissed both sides of his face and then another point blank to his lips. He held me close and then kissed me back. I ran my fingers over his naked body...but he was right. We were both too tired for fun and games tonight. He reached over and squeezed my cock and said that it was hot. His speech got slower and slower...I knew he was too tired to go further. One last kiss and I slid off the top of him and snuggled up next to him. In a matter of seconds...we were both sound a sleep.

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In the distance, I could hear crickets chirping. The sounds of the night are soothing. Opening my eyes, and looking at the dark room, I was momentarily thinking that I was back on Loon Lake Island. A car drove by the front of the house and with it the fleeting recollection that we were back in our University town. The clock on the table next to the bed showed 6:00 AM. In a week or so, classes would reconvene. For now, I was content to be next to Sam in a comfortable bed and enjoy the fast approaching dawn.

Sam was lying on his stomach with his left knee pulled up to a perpendicular position from his torso. I reached over and laid my hand on his back. He had short black hairs on his back...and not many...because most native American people are not exceptionally hairy. They had some resilience when I touched them. Moving my hand down the center of his back...I rolled it over the curvature of his butt. It felt nice to touch. He giggled and flinched a little much as one does when awakened by an hand shaking them. Moving my hand down the inside of his right leg, I paused to feel the hair on his legs and then backed up slightly to let my fingers follow the curvature of his scrotum. Again he sort of chuckled. With the tips of my fingers, I moved them over this balls and felt first one than the other. They felt good in my hands.

As he pulled his knee higher, I shifted my hand back to embrace his penis. It was hard as a rock with the foreskin pulled back tight against the perfect shaft. Scooting out of his way so he could roll over onto his back, I crawled on top of him and kissed his lips before moving lower to tease his nipples with my tongue. He does not like to have his nipples pressured because they are so sensitive, but after a couple of licks to each...I moved down his chest, dragging my tongue over what little chest hair he had. Even his bush was very sparse of straight black hair.

Opening my mouth, I went over his erection and slide down on it leaving a saliva trail. He tipped his head back and sighed contentedly. I moved up to the tip and slid again. He was beginning to arch his back with every pass over his beautiful cock. I had always imagined that native Americans were not hung very well, but Sam was the exception. He was long and thick. Running my tongue over his shaft and then down around his scrotum...he shivered with a sensation of excitement. When I tried to go lower...he stopped me. Not until he had showered he said. I appreciated his concern for my well being. Not many would have done so at the point of excitement.

He pulled me back to the surface with his strong arms and kissed me, then putting his arms around me, gave me a tight hug that was so warm and engaging. "Wait for me a couple of minutes," he whispered in my ear and dashed out of bed to the bathroom where I heard him turn on the shower. When he returned about ten minutes later...he crawled on top of the sheets on all fours and rested his head on both my pillow and his. I slid under him and started from his nipples down to is balls with my tongue. I edged him by sucking his cock just enough to make him drip a long shiny strand of pre-cum before licking it away with my tongue. I ran my finger nails ever so gently over his chest and through his bush then on the under side of his scrotum. He likes to have his balls teased and I teased away. Another long stream of pre-cum oozed from the head of his very stiff penis. Scooting out from under him, I moved to the end of the bed and ran my finger

nails over his back with just enough pressure to leave slight trails on his skin. He moaned. I knew he really liked having his back rubbed.

Still on his hands and knees, his pucker was flexing with the exciting stimulation of the handling of his cock and balls. I touched my tongue to it...and it flexed. He moaned as I soaked it with my very wet tongue. Around and around I went and with just enough pressure to barely press in...he shook as if startled. I went around it again and then down the perineum to his scrotum which was hanging long and low. With my hand, I massaged his balls in my hand through his sack. He moaned. At one point he said please do not stop. There was a wet spot on the sheet where he was dripping pre-cum profusely. We should have put a cum catcher underneath to keep the tracks from showing.

I moved back to his pucker again and ran my tongue over it. He moaned once more. Pushing his shoulders off the pillow...he raised his shoulders to the full length of his stretched arms. He was signaling me without words that it was time to make my entry. Grabbing a little lube from the tube I had previously laid on the bed...I anointed my cock and put it against his pucker. He pushed back against me. My member slid in without any indication of pain on his part. I pushed deeper and he moaned again. Once more he pushed back against me as hard as he could. I was in all the way to my pubic hair. He pulled away from me about six inches and thrust himself back against me again. I pushed deeper into him and increased my speed. He was moaning just one continuous soft moan of approval. I thrust and blasted his butt cheeks. "Harder," he had commanded. I increased my speed for a dozen more thrusts when he began to pant. His torso was

sweating profusely. It was like he was having a muscle spasm all over but without pain. It was intense, electrifying, orgasmic pulsations as my penis pushed deeper. Each stroke I made, pushed my penis against his prostate. It was intensifying to the extent that just as I shot my load into his canal...he shot his all over the sheet beneath him...ejaculation after ejaculation. He claimed there were eight shots but the sheet suggested more. He collapsed onto the sheet spreading the ejaculate all over his torso.

"Oh my gosh," he said. "That felt so good, that it was almost painful."

He rolled over and kissed my face. "I never dreamed that you would or could do that for me. Gosh I love you, Ron."

He kissed me once more and then rolled me over onto the dry side of the bed and laid upon me and held me tight. It took a few minutes for our hearts to slow their beating to normal. When they did, he giggled.

"Now we have a mess to clean up," he whispered. "How are we going to do so without calling excess attention to it?"

"I don't know," I responded, "but we will figure something out."

We both got into the shower together and helped each other wash up. It was a quick shower so not to use too much water. We had just stepped out when we heard a light knock at the bedroom door. I slipped into my bath robe and Sam put on a pair of jeans quickly and opened the door. There stood Biff with a big grin on his face.

"Mom and Dad just left to have breakfast with the professors Levi. Do you need your sheets washed? I am taking ours down to the laundry to process them before they return," Biff had said with a sheepish grin. "Good thing they sleep downstairs or they would have heard the show you put on upstairs. You got Jin and I so hot...we had to follow your example."

We hurriedly stripped the bed of sheets and Biff took them downstairs to the laundry. Jin came into the room...naked as a jay bird. It was obvious he had enjoyed a good rimming and poking. He was still leaking a little post cum. He did not say anything...just grinned and returned to the other bedroom.

"Sam," I wonder if they would like to do a four way sometime," I thought out loud?

"Not a good idea, Ron," he responded. "That can create a rift in friendships. I like them both...but neither attract me sexually."

I nodded my head. Good advise from a man far wiser than his age. We hurriedly ate breakfast and put our respective rooms back together before going out to start the day.

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"Professors," said Dr. Biffle holding up his hands in front of him, "We are mature adults. We can discuss these matters in rational and calm manners. I have known you both for years. My discussion with you is to suggest a way that we can resolve everyone's best interest without raising any ire."

"Look Biffle," said Professor Levi. "We have not neglected our son."

"Please, I did not suggest that you had," Dr. Biffle proceeded. "I am suggesting that you have a lot of work ahead of you and not much time at home. Ron would like to come stay with us until you have accomplished your task...that is all."

"Has he indicated anything to you about feeling neglected or abused," Mrs. Levi asked?

"Nothing at all," said Dr. Biffle. " He loves you both very much...but you will be returning to Europe in a few weeks and will be there for a year working on continued Sabbatical research. Ron could stay with us while you are gone...and we could look after your house. He just needs a base."

The red in Professor Levi's face was draining. He misunderstood the motive for Dr. Biffle and Mrs. Biffle calling on them.

"We had such a lovely time with him this summer," said Mrs. Biffle. He blended in with us very well and since you both will be working frantically to finish your doctorate degrees...why not give yourself some security knowing that he is provided for and looked after while you are away."

"I can provide for him," said Professor Levi.

"Dear," said Mrs. Levi. "That is not what they mean. Of course we can support him financially...but it would be nice to know that he is functioning in a family setting that meets his needs and gives him an anchor while we are away."

"Look, if you will permit me to suggest...why not talk to him over dinner tonight or tomorrow...and ask what he wants to do. He will not love you any less if you allow him to make his own decision over this matter. It seems like he has done so for some time," Dr. Biffle offered.

"You're right," said Mrs. Levi. "We'll take him to dinner this evening and discuss what he wants to do."

Dr. Biffle added, "He has brought a friend back with him... from Maine?"

"He wrote saying that he wanted to do so and why," said Professor Levi.

Mrs. Levi spoke up. "We have known his persuasion for a long time."

"He never had any interest in dating or in girls other than platonic. We both agree that this is a choice that only he can make," Professor Levi added.

"So do you want us to send him over or to call? What do you want us to do to help in this matter," Mrs. Biffle asked?

"Have him call us," Mrs. Levi said... " Oh, and if you would...let him know that he is welcome to bring his friend from Maine with him. We promise not to embarrass either of them."

Mrs. Biffle shook hands with Mrs. Levi. Their husbands just nodded to each other as they walked out the door. At least they had been able to dispel any acute animosity...and hopefully they would all profit from the process.

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Ron and Sam arrived at the Levi house at 7:00 PM, dressed in casual attire, fit for dinning out. The professors Levi greeted them at the door...hugged Ron and shook hands with Sam. As they conversed in the living room before leaving for dinner...they realized that Sam for his native American blood was no dummy. His use of the English language was equal to their academic level. The long black hair tied back with a black short ribbon was not troubling to them. His face was handsome. His dark eyes and dark hair were in fact rather attractive. It was obvious that there was a blend in his genetic make up that was neither white nor totally native American. Although they did not know exactly what to expect, they were not distressed with what they saw.

At dinner, they discussed Maine and Sam's ancestry...to the extent he was willing to share. They also discussed the Levi ancestry having originated first in the area now called Jerusalem and that they had migrated to Europe. In the 1930's their families had removed to America.

"So you are agreeable to staying with the Biffle's while we are in Europe," Professor Levi asked his son..?

"I am sir," Ron replied.

"And you no longer want to go with us," his father continued?

"I would like very much to go with you," I replied to my father, "but lets face it... I would be in the way of your research. It would be better for me to stay here and finish my last year of high school and then to go on to college. Sam is here to keep me out of any trouble...and Dr. & Mrs. Biffle could do the same. A year may be insufficient time for the task ahead of you...and since my college fees are covered under your tenure at the university...I can go ahead and start to college and the two of you can finish your doctatorial work before coming home to submit your papers."

"Upon my word," said my mother. "You certainly do have a grasp of the whole thing."

"I do, mother," I said. " If I take the initiative to finish my work...it will free you and father to finish yours. It seems to me that it would be a win-win situation for all of us."

"And you do not mind lodging with the Biffle's for a year. It will not be like being in your own home you know," my father added.

"Forgive me," I said. " It will not be like being in your home for a year."

My parents eyebrows went up...but they showed no sign of anger.

"And this is what you want." asked my father..?

"It is sir," I replied.

Taking the last swig of his glass of wine and signaling the waiter for another, he looked at my mother who nodded to him.

"Then so be it," he said. "I will speak with the Biffle's tomorrow and arrange for your expenses to be mailed to me...and an account be established for them to access for your needs and wants."

With that, the mood lifted. We four dinned together and afterwards, my parents dropped us back at the Biffle house. I half expected them to suggest that we stay tonight or at least for me to stay tonight in their house, but they did not. I learned from Dr. Biffle the next day, that my father was true to his word and did set up an account for them and myself to access for my needs and wants.

Sam and I saw them off at O'hare International Airport two weeks later. They had sublet their house to another young professor and his family. Sam and I had gone over before they had taken possession and removed all of my things. Dr. and Mrs. Biffle had cleared an area in their basement for my possessions. After getting moved into their house, it was as if I had always been there...and I became a contented member of their family. They had gone from being the parent of one son, Brian... to the parents of four boys...Brian, Jin, Sam and myself. I had never been so happy in all my life.

My parents left their address where they would be lodging, first in Rome and then in Paris...but after a few letters of small talk about where they were at and what their research consisted of...the letters dwindled to one about every six weeks and then one every ten weeks...and then stopped. I was concerned of course...but it did not keep me awake at night.

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Christmas season began shortly after Thanksgiving. Illinois can sometimes have big snows. Biff's father talked about having Thanksgiving at his grandparents home in Shelby County. He said they lived on a farm ten miles to the south of the county seat and raised Christmas trees. Their farm house sat way back off the gravel county road...and the family had to ford a branch to get to it. He would expound about a song he learned when a boy that went something like, "Over the river and through the woods, to grandparents house we go...the horse knows the way, to pull the sleigh, through the wild and drifting snow." He was not a very good singer...but I got the idea. Family and friends meant a lot to him.

Sam was well pleased with his position with the university maintenance department. His job in the summer was landscaping and lawn maintenance and in the winter...he became part of the painting staff. It turned out to be a good match for him...and the income far superseded what he was making as a fishing guide. He sent most of it home to his mother who wrote that his assistance had greatly increased their comfort level in Maine. His younger brothers and sister were able to go to school and not in the most meager conditions. He told us though that as a native American...their outlook on Thanksgiving was a little different than traditional America. He said that they ate fish and wild turkey and seasonal vegetables. Pumpkins and squash were eaten as a vegetable and not as a desert.

Now that the Christmas season was upon us...life seemed to speed up. The university would close for two weeks starting with the end of the semester on December 19th and would reconvene on January 3rd. Instructors and staff were all given the same time off to spend with family and friends.

I wondered if Sam would want to go to Maine for Christmas, but he had no inclination to do so.

"No...I will stay here with you," he had said one morning before we climbed out of bed. "Ephraim...You are too important to me to let you spend the holiday alone."

It was amusing and cute, how he called me Ron on casual discussions but when it was serious to him...he used my middle name which sounded more important perhaps to him.

"How do you spend the holiday season," he asked me. "You are of Jewish ancestry. Do you celebrate Hanukkah or Christmas?"

"Neither," I said, "And both."

He raised his eyebrows in quandary.

"My parents celebrated neither. Perhaps they thought their vast knowledge was superior to religiosity...but deep down inside of me...after reading a myriad of books on religions and history...I came to have some feeling towards Christianity although I have not joined any particular church. I have attended Cathedral Mass with friends, synagogue with friends...and I have a friend whose father is a Mormon bishop. They are really super nice people."

"Did they sick their missionaries on you," Sam asked..?

I recoiled at his attitude.

"I did meet some of their missionaries...and you know...they were always very kind and respectful to me," I snapped back.

"Ron, I did not mean to offend," Sam stammered.

"I know," I responded. "I have read their literature...but I am gay...and that keeps me from joining any church. Sam...I have read a lot about the subject of religion...perhaps more than most because of my Jewish ancestry...and I will tell you that there is more misunderstanding, more unchristian attitudes, more hatred and wars and more prideful hearts over that subject than any other you will ever discuss. If a person is going to call themselves religious...the first thing they need to do is get rid of the attitude...and the mean spirited pride."

"My people believed in the Great Spirit...but our ancestors knew very little about him. I too have read various doctrines on the subject...and I will agree with you that pride and a mean spirit are the opposites of people of true faith."

Sam chuckled. "You know, we could talk about this until spring and not resolve anything.

"Yes, I know," I said.

"Sam, I am gay...and I know how the nation feels about that. I am being honest when I say, I am... who I am. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel the way that I feel.

"I've always felt that I was born gay. I have tried to think heterosexual and I have tried to act heterosexual and even considered trying to function with a person of the opposite sex...but that is not me. I know how I feel and I feel happiest when I am with you."

Sam pulled me over from my side of the bed to resting on top of him on his side of the bed. He held me tight. I could hear him breathing and feel the beating of his heart through my finger tips on his chest. Like so many before me... I knew how I felt...and I had what I wanted in my arms.

"Boys...come down stairs...supper is ready," called Mrs. Biffle. Sam kissed me on my forehead and then on the lips.

"I love you Ron Ephraim Levi," he said and hugged me tight. "We need to go down stairs...other wise... I will be strongly tempted to pull all your clothing off and show you how much I love you.

"Ahhh," I said... "Desert for later tonight."

He laughed and took my hand and lead me to the stairs. He released my hand half way down even though Dr. and Mrs. Biffle knew the score between all of us.

"What's for supper dear," professor Biffle asked Mrs. Biffle.

"Meatloaf," she said, "with all the trimmings and warm pumpkin pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert."

Sam looked at me and raised his eye brows.

"What," said Biff?

"My favorite," said Sam. "Mrs. Biffle's cooking makes me think of home."

"What a nice thing to say, Sam," Mrs. Biffle said.

"I say it because it is true," he replied.

Professor Biffle said grace before we ate...and then all of us dived in. I don't know when I had been so contented. Sam was holding my hand part time under the table. The rest of those sitting around the table enjoyed each other's company and conversation.

"After supper, boys," Dr. Biffle said. "We have our Christmas tree to set up and decorate. It is in the garage and I have been watering it for a few days...so it is ready to be moved into the house."

The expression on my face must have given me away because Mrs. Biffle looked at me and asked: "Is something wrong dear?"

"No ma'am," I replied. "My parents always had a little wiry artificial tree on the coffee table and every year at Christmas there would be a check laid under it for me. We had a menorah and lit the candles for Hanukkah but as time went on...they became too busy to even bother with that. It will be a treat to me to decorate for Christmas and be part of the celebration."

"We could decorate for Hanukkah too," said Dr. Biffle?

"Not necessary, sir," I replied. " I have waited a long time to be part of a family Christmas holiday."

Biff looked over at me. "Ron...we are glad to have you here with us and for you and Sam to be officially part of our family."

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Biffle.

The warm pumpkin pie was fantastic as was the vanilla ice cream on top. Despite good manners, we all ate a second slice.

"It will never be as good as it is...warm out of the oven," said Mrs. Biffle as she refilled our plates."

The rest of the conversation became a buzz of happy sounds.

It took all four of us boys to lift the huge aromatic tree through the house to the living room and reinstall it into a large Ceramic Pot and drip pan. We then set about wedging assorted rocks into the pot to keep the tree in a stable and upright position. Once secure, we put water into the pot to keep the tree nice and green. It would require additional water everyday to keep it at the proper level...and to keep the tree verdant. It took nearly and hour for the six of us to decorate it. The ceilings in the Biffle house were nine feet tall and the tree almost touched the top. Dr. Biffle would not reveal how much he had paid for it...but he did say that he went to a Christmas tree farm and cut it himself. The owners tied it to the luggage rack on top of the car and he made it home safely with an overhang both on the front and the back of his car.

Christmas eve was five days away. We hoped the tree would remain in good shape until then. Mrs. Biffle told of a time when Biff was a little boy that they had purchased a painted tree and the needles had all fallen off by Christmas.

"Brian cried so much at the poor trees condition...that when he went to bed on Christmas eve, his father went out and bought another tree...this time unflocked...and set it up. When Brian got up on Christmas morning...he found the new tree and was sure that Santa had been listening to his prayers," Mrs. Biffle revealed.

We all chuckled...but I thought it was nice that his parents cared so much for his feelings that they would do this for him.

"When I was a child," Sam shared... "My father would go to the woods and cut a red cedar tree. They were thick and over crowded so removing one was not a great loss to the forest. We did not decorate like the people from the cities do. We had pine cones and seed pods from different plants, feathers and a few wooden toys that my father had carved for previous Christmases."

"It sounds lovely, dear," said Mrs. Biffle. "I am sure your father would be very proud of you if he were here today."

"I agree," said Dr. Biffle.

"Thank you," Sam replied...but made no further comments.

"Hot chocolate," said Mrs. Biffle as she hurried off to the kitchen.

"Ron...how about some music," said Dr. Biffle as he raised the lid of the Kimball spinet piano.

"Yes sir," I said as I sat down to the spinet and began to play a host of Christmas music...all from memory.

"Amazing," said Jin... "He is Jewish and yet he knows all the Christmas music."

Sam was becoming fidgety... "Religion has nothing to do with it...music is music." He got up and went over to the piano and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulder. I felt pure love flow from him into me.

"Jin did not mean anything by his remark, you know," I whispered to Sam.

Sam removed his hands and went over and sat down on the floor next to Jin.

"I did not mean to snap at you Jin...but he is so knowledgeable about music that if he hears a piece or plays it...he has it forever in his mind."

Jin leaned closer toward him...and whispered back. "I didn't mean to upset you Sam. He is wonderful at the key board. You are so lucky to have him as your...friend."

"Thank you," Sam replied. " I'm sorry I snapped at you. It was wrong for me to do so."

"That's OK," he answered back.

"Hot chocolate for all of you, dears," Mrs. Biffle said as she passed around mugs of very hot chocolate...made from scratch.

I stopped playing the piano and came over and sat down on the floor next to Sam...and sipped my chocolate. He scooted closer behind me and with one hand on my shoulder...held the mug in the other hand and sipped. It was very good. Mrs. Biffle's hot chocolate was only superseded by her warm pumpkin pie.

The Christmas tree was beautiful. I stared at it and then looked at the others sitting close to me. What a wonderful Christmas this was going to be.

I snapped off the bedroom light and stretched from head to toe in the bed as I lie on my back with my hands above my head. The bedroom was cooler than down stairs because we had left the door shut. I had stepped out of the shower and was waiting for Sam to finish his shower. He dried himself with a fluffy towel and then came into the bedroom, walking naked to the edge of the bed and scooted in next to me. He leaned his head next to me for a few seconds and then kissed my cheek. I chuckled softly as he put his hand against the side of my face and felt the rough stubble of what would have been a five o'clock shadow had I not shaved before showering. His hand was rough and warm...and I am sure my face felt like sandpaper. He could not grow a beard. He smelled like that masculine soap with the green flakes in it. It was like a cross between evergreen and very clean.

"I love you Ron," he whispered to me.

I turned to face him on my right side and put my hand against his cheek.

"I love you too, Sam. Thanks for all the nice things you said to me and about me this evening."

"Can't help myself...you mean everything to me," he said. "I believe I promised you desert later this evening."

I lightly laughed, "yes, I believe you did."