Chapter 4: Late September 1993. The Outing.
It's Friday afternoon, two weeks after the stabbing. I got home from school half an hour ago; Mom wasn't home from work yet. She usually got home around 4:45pm. There weren't any notes about takin' stuff out of the freezer so I guessed we might be going out for dinner. She always defrosted meat in the sink under water, she said it's better than the microwave oven.
I fired up the laptop to check my email, nothing from Daniel or Mom, one from Tom. He wanted to know if I could come by his house and join him at Star's Diner for something to eat. I quickly messaged him back that I didn't know what Mom had planned but would tell him as soon as I knew. I fired off the message quickly since I thought he might be waiting on my reply. There was no reason for both of us to sit at home alone on a Friday night.
The event in the yard had an effect on me too. It was on my mind all day and night, no matter what I was doing I saw mental images of the Cowboy stabbing Tom and him collapsing right in front of me. I had my hand on his back when it happened. I replayed it over and over trying to convince myself that I wasn't the one who caused the entire thing. But finally it started to fade from my brain and I started sleeping more like normal and it was getting easier to concentrate in school.
In the past when someone shouted FAG! at me in the hallway it kind of got stuck in my head the rest of the day, but now it gave me a break from memories of the stabbing so I think I talked gayish out loud in school hoping people would harass me so I had more time without replaying the stabbing. I wished I could go inside my brain and destroy the cells that stored the images of that evening. I wanted to forget the entire thing, but not our time in the car and my first kisses we had an hour earlier.
How does anyone go from first kiss to attempted murder in the span of 45 minutes, without going crazy?
One night at dinner this week Mom asked me how I met Tom. I told her we met on CompuServe, she never pressed it beyond that. I heard the special Woof outside my bedroom window so I ran to the back door to let Crow inside. I emptied the trash in the entire house and took the clean dishes out of the dishwasher as Mom parked in the garage.
"Hi Mom."
"Hi Honey." She leaned in giving me a tiny kiss on the cheek, which I wiped off after she rounded the corner heading for her bedroom.
I should describe our house. We lived in an `L' shaped home that was half-brick outside with a black shingle roof, probably the largest (one story, no basement) house on our block (I think it's like 2900 sq ft). We have a two car garage, three bedrooms, and two and a half baths. The house used to have four bedrooms but the previous owner had an entire section of the house gutted, added closets, enlarged the master bath, and added a lavatory. My bathroom has a large countertop, that's where I put my darkroom equipment, I had everything I needed to develop and print black and white 35mm and 127 size film strips.
Tour of our home: You can see it online if you search for our address. But the two car garage faces the street. Beside that is the front door and beside that is the living room window then two smaller bedroom windows. The back yard is fenced in; the entire neighborhood has rock and mortar walls running down the property lines. There is a gate between the garage and the block wall, that's the only entrance to the yard except the back door.
If you walk from the garage into the house you step into the utility room, then keep going and you're in the kitchen, keep going and you're at the end of the hallway, and another step and you're in the TV room. The kitchen is large, it has an island with a small sink and a big counter space that acts like a bar, with stools on one side. Beyond that is the dining area with windows that look out on the narrow walkway between the rock wall and the garage, it's where our gas grille sits. That's where the back door for the house is too.
If you go in to the hallway you turn left and the first thing is the front door foyer, there's a coat closet. Across the hallway is a tiny lavatory. Next doorway is wide open it's the living room. The next door on the right is my bedroom. The next door down is the third bedroom on the living room side of the hallway. Then comes my bathroom door, and at the end of the hallway is Mom's bedroom door.
Her room is large with a vaulted ceiling and horizontal sliding wood frame windows that look out on the tiny side yard and the back yard. In the corner of her room is the bathroom door. So her bathroom and mine sit between her bedroom and mine. Those bathrooms and my bedroom were part of the house that got remodeled. But the problem was my bathtub sat sideways at the far end of the room, so they could not install a door between that bathroom and my bedroom, the tub was in the way. If the tub had been installed sideways they could have added a door and removed the one in the hallway. I guess the former owner didn't want to spend the money to move the tub too.
My bathroom sink is on a counter that is big enough for two sinks but they only installed one so it gave me a huge empty counter top in my bathroom, which is why the dark room ended up there. The big item on the counter is the enlarger and the glossy photo dryer. I put a board over the sink and I have running water and enough room for developing chemical trays. Those are like low plastic pans for developing paper pictures. Up above are photo drying wires for hanging dripping wet paper pictures. At the end of the counter is the toilet, and last comes the tub. On the other side of the wall behind my tub is my bedroom near my bedroom door.
As a little kid and sometimes still today I still dash from my room, naked, to my bathroom door. Since its right by Mom's bedroom door she's seen me make the naked dash at least a hundred times and just rolls her eyes but never scolds me for being naked in the hallway.
When you walk in her room the wall to the left is all closets, her bed is against the far wall and she has a large dresser and a desk on the back yard wall, below the windows. They're up high so nobody outside can see anything inside except her ceiling. On the wall between her room and the bathrooms are another large dresser and her big desk and all her computer stuff. She has a king size bed that is set up really high so you have to kind of roll up onto it. Crow can barely get up onto her bed, he has to run and leap.
My bedroom was 16x12 feet with windows that looked (north) at the back yard. Mom's room saw the back, and side yard (she could also see part of Daniel's house). The small third room saw the front yard, and the little lavatory had no window. My room had hardwood floors, indigo blue walls, and a grayish-white ceiling. And it had a six by six foot walk-in closet too. From my desk if I stood on the chair I could look out the window and see the roof of Daniel's house, which was across the street from the house behind us. Dan's home was two stories and they had an in-ground pool because his parents had money.
I had a dresser with a mirror, a desk, and a full-size bed in the corner. My floor was usually littered with laundry, dog fur, and forgotten dog toys. My desk had four drawers and a high pressure laminate surface which was impossible to damage. And there's my laptop computer and a daisy-wheel printer on a stand. My phone was mounted on the wall at the desk and had a cable running to the modem. Mom had almost the same arrangement in her room with a flatbed document scanner, but her printer was an Epson dot matrix printer that could print an entire page way faster than my daisy wheel, mine was letter quality but couldn't print images. Daisy wheel printers were loud but their output looked like it was done on a nice typewriter and teachers liked them. Plus mine could use different print wheels for different fonts. If you want to see and hear a daisy wheel printer in action, watch the movie Prince of Darkness, the scene where the priest prints his letter to the college professor.
I could probably throw away the dog toys that are scattered around the house, Crow lost interest in them two years ago. Technically I gave the dog toys to him so technically I shouldn't just toss them. He's more sophisticated now, he's all about relating to people and people things; watching TV, eating with the family, sleeping on a human bed, riding in the car, listening to music, but for some reason he's still bothered by small cameras (my 35mm doesn't bother him). Maybe it's the flash that he doesn't like or maybe he thought something was being aimed at him and he didn't like that either. I've tried to explain them to him but I didn't get much feedback that it made sense to his dog brain. Maybe I'll bag up his toys while he is with me watching. He'd go stare at them if he wanted one. Mom said I should throw away one a month and he'd probably not notice. I was sure he'd notice but I doubted he'd care.
I may have said it before but since he was born I spent hundreds of hours teaching words to Crow, lots of names for things in his world, things like: TV, eat, nose, mouth, eye, love, Mom, dog, bird, water, car, store, water, ice, walk, ball, and dozens of others.
The way I decided to teach the word Love' to him was with a hand gesture and tone of voice. I sat him in front of me during one of our teaching sessions so we faced each other. I patted my chest and said Rob.' Then I patted his chest and said Crow.' Then I said 'Rob Love Crow' but I said it in a sweet romantic voice. I also held up one hand, shook it and said Rob, then I held up the other hand and said Crow, then I gently clasped my hands together like they were hugging and with my hands clasped I touched my chest and said Rob' then I held them up and said Loves' then touched his chest and said Crow.' So that was two hands clasped and those represented us and we loved each other, plus I said it in a super sweet tone of voice. That is the best I could come up with to teach him the word Love.
I tried to symbolize one hand as being me and my other hand being him then gently clasped them together and said Love at the same time. I never saw any facial movement so I don't know if he understood. In some ways dogs were like children, they hide exactly how much they understand. I don't think dogs were particularly romantic or physically affectionate like humans. I believe he understood what I was trying to teach him, in his own way. I think he understood Love to mean that I liked him a lot. He showed us he loved us by how he behaved at home and how willing he was to risk his own life to protect us. Crow actually puts a lot of effort into trying to behave like Mom and me at home.
When we're eating we always made him a plate with a small portion of our food and set it on a chair at the table so he can eat with us. When we sit side by side on the sofa to watch TV Crow will sit on the sofa and watch TV too. We walk together, sleep together, play together, and do chores together. When I have to clean floors he stays nearby watching closely what I'm doing, as if he was helping. He gets in the way a lot but we allow it because he is directly participating. Mom thinks his involvement is part of what keeps his behavior safe for us and visitors. Crow fully understands his presence can be overwhelming to some humans but he still likes to briefly get close (nose to nose) with visitors.
I think most dogs have a vision sweet spot just beyond the tip of their noses, so when he meets new people he likes to get very close so he can clearly see their face.
Oh yah, let me also say that without any help from me Crow figured out by himself which window on the back wall of the house was my bedroom window. When he called me with his special bark from outside I stood up by the desk and looked out the window and there he was staring back at me through the glass. So not only did he figure out which window was mine but what end of the window I would appear if I stood up at the desk.
I think that could indicate a lot of hidden intelligence in his brain. He figured out our windows all on his own.
After Mom got home she disappeared into her room (pleasure lair) for nearly half an hour, I heard the shower water. I knew she couldn't talk about work but I still picked up a little here and there about what she did at Pantex, her employer was on the local news from time to time (anti-nuke protestors). I could tell when she came home upset about something so I treated her extra nice. One hand washed the other she taught me. Sometimes there were people there protesting outside the entrance, but that rarely affected Mom. But she always had to wear sunglasses when driving to and from work, and her license plate was a decoy, her actual plate was listed on her car registration slip. But about ten times a year she suddenly had a different plate. I think they switched them for her at work.
I've watched protesters outside the Pantex employee gate on the TV news and I've seen Mom's car leave work (on TV), she had to slowly drive through the protesters and she's had people throw stuff at her as she left. That upsets her and she brings it home. I've also seen her come home nearly in tears and then crash in her bed and sob into her pillow when she was threatened with death chants outside the plant. For her safety practically nobody knows she designed the most recent hydrogen bomb which is fully deployed by the military around the globe and in submarines. It is ideally suited for MRV (multiple re-entry vehicles) warheads: one missile opens in outerspace and deploys a dozen individually guided megaton warheads. And she does not know that I know what she does at work. I do not discuss her job with anyone, even Daniel. I know because I over hear her talking on the phone or they're talking about her on the TV news.
Finally Mom re-appeared in the kitchen wearing a robe with a towel around her head and a smile across her face. Amazing what a nice long hot shower can do for the soul. Her shower has two clear glass walls, three shower heads, and three sets of controls. It was pretty luxurious, I wished I could use it too once in a while.
"I got a visit today from the feds about the desperado across the street." She said pointing towards the street.
"The FBI?" I asked not really taking her seriously at first.
"Yep, the G-Men. They said he was wanted in Mexico City and by the FBI as a weapons smuggler and on murder charges in Honduras and Belize. She told me he was known as `Bota' (The Boot) in the D.F." She said gesturing with her thumb towards the ruined house across the street again.
"They warned us in school too, I wonder if it was the same guys."
"Probably was. From what they told me if Crow had been a human he might have received a reward from the Honduran government, they wanted Bota dead or alive."
"Can't we still get the reward and spend it on stuff for him?" I asked.
"Well I asked them to keep it quiet just in case his friends came here to get revenge."
"Oh holy crap, we safe here?"
"They said it was reported in the media that his weapon jammed and when he tried to un-jam his pistol it went off and shot himself in the neck instead." She answered with a look of seriousness on her face still.
"Oh my God! Should we hideout somewhere?"
"They're sayin' because they monitor the highways heading toward Amarillo they pretty much know who's comin' before they get here which was why you were told in school days before Bota moved-in across the street."
She told me there's a license plate camera at every exit ramp on I-40 across town, so nobody enters town without being recorded and logged by computer.
"Wow, that's freaky. I knew Crow was watching through the window when we parked, I felt it." Mom just nodded yes while I spoke, she's admitted before that the two of us communicated by brain waves all the time, I've proven it to her many times in the past. "We were sittin' there talking when that guy walked up ordering us to move the car and got mad really fast. The booze on his breath was gross. Tom rolled the window down then we tried to get away but he kept coming and when he charged Tom there was a huge crash and I saw something attack him so I ran inside to call 911 and that was pretty much what happened."
"That's it huh?" She said with a look of disbelief.
"That's the short version."
"How was the movie?" Mom, the investigator pressed on with her questioning.
"It sucked, we left after half an hour."
"You know Robert I can tell when you're lying. You forget I've known you since before you were born, you have zero poker face skills."
"Sorry Mom but that's what happened. It might have been 34 minutes but we left super early. We were not the only people to walk out of the theater."
"Well young man I know there's something you're hiding. I want you to tell me what really happened. I'm your mother not the school principal. We're on the same side you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"Robbie, sit down with me please Honey?"
I followed her into the TV room. We had this huge leather sofa and matching recliners. She sat at one end I sat close-by, sort of like when I was a little kid and I'd snuggle next to her and watch cartoons. She scratched my back with her fingernails as I sat pretending to look at the magazine covers on the coffee table. Years ago we used to sit there on Saturday mornings and watch her favorite cartoon, The Jetsons.
"Robbie my son I love you. You know that, right?
I kept my mouth shut while she scratched my back and shoulders, then in a softer voice she said, "Think back to your oldest memories, have you ever been spanked or threatened by me, ever?"
"No."
"Remember when you were afraid to tell me you broke your bedroom window, then you finally did. Were you hurt or shamed in any way?"
"No." I answered looking down at my feet answering in a kid voice.
We had about a minute of quiet while she still dragged her fingernails across my back, which felt really nice, then she took in a deep breath and started talking again.
"Honey I know you're gay, it's perfectly fine with me. I just want you to always tell me the whole truth."
My entire body felt like I got an electrical shock.
For a few seconds I couldn't breathe. In a panic I stood up, walked across the room, turned around and leaned back against the big floor model TV and looked her in the eyes. Tears started to drip down my cheeks and my nose ran but I kept my hands on the TV cabinet. I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, then sniffled a few times.
"Um...." I started to talk but she interrupted me.
"Robbie honey I'm your mother. Nobody knows you like me. I've known you're gay since third grade. I was waiting for you to figure out you could trust me enough to tell me in your own words." That's when I interrupted her and started to speak out.
"Okay Misses Doctor of Psychiatry. Oh wait, you don't have one of those do you? Yours is in chemistry right Mom? So chemistry school taught you how to read minds? Okay Misses Bomb Designer, what else do you think you understand about me?" By then I was furious and started to yell.
"Nothing's changed. Now you can be honest with me, okay?" She was visibly shaken by the way I stood up to her and said stuff we NEVER said out loud, even at home.
Our argument paused briefly, she stopped to wipe her eyes while I tightly gripped the edge of the TV cabinet behind me.
"How'd you know?" I asked with my arms now tightly folded across my chest with a feeling of humiliation in my brain.
"Well it's not like there weren't signs. Someday you might have a child then you'll understand." I got a quick mental image of Daniel wearing eye liner in sixth grade but I never did anything like him.
"Okay. I wasn't ready for this but I guess it's over now," was all I could think to say.
"What's over?" The more she tried to talk like Mister Levinthal the more it sounded like she was trying to pull a Jedi mind trick on me.
"I don't know, I need time to think."
"Robbie, listen to me. I knew you were gay before you knew, I was just waiting for you to get the courage to tell me in your own words. But this new friend of yours and things with the FBI and Crow I just wanted you to know I'm here for you, just like an hour ago when you believed I didn't know. Nothing's changed cept now you're free to be your real self. That's all I wanted to say." She raised her arms when she said you're free' as if she was a TV preacher.
"Yeah but I need to think about stuff, this is really personal stuff."
"That's fine. Go talk to Crow for a while, okay?" she gestured down the hallway.
"Hell Mom! Now you know I talk to Crow too?"
"Robbie, the wall insulation in our home isn't studio grade y'know. You'd be surprised what I can hear." I had a brief mental image of me wanking in bed while she stood listening in her bathroom.
"You know Mom, with all your big fancy words one thing you missed is I'm eighteen now, but you still treat me like I'm six and can't have any privacy, even in my thoughts. Maybe I never discussed sex with you because I felt it was none of your business. Mother."
Mom's mouth fell open, she had no defense for that. I guess another part of growing up were the things your parents had to learn, like you're not a little child anymore and everything needed to change. When Mom looked at me now she still remembered the day I was born and thought of me as her baby, but she forgot to re-evaluate the rules along the way. She never once changed her treatment of me from my safety to my eventual departure from the nest. She never once taught me how to be a successful independent adult, just how to not get hurt as a kid. We've had that very discussion in the past but she doesn't understand.
I'd heard about all I cared to from her so I went to my room and slammed the door. I crash landed on my butt on the bed and stared at my feet and noticed the empty spot at the foot of the bed. I got up walked to the door, opened it. There was the long legged black dog looking me in the eye, tail slowly swaying side to side. He lowered his head and walked around me to the bed, stepped up on and collapsed on his spot. I closed the door and took my spot. Crow always acted oddly when he heard us argue. I think it made him feel uncomfortable, maybe scared.
After I left the TV room Mom must have given Crow the hand signal for go to bed. If I had never opened the door he would have gone to her bed instead.
He stared at me. I sat there leaned back against the headboard and the wall. Crow watched me closely.
He snorted to make me look back at him. He wiggled his tail, then tears returned to my eyes. Crow lowered his chin to my leg just above my ankle. I pressed the pillow to my face and cried. Crow crawled up by my hip and rested his chin on me and snuggled-in closer. So he was worried about me.
One note here since I recently described Mom's bed in detail, I should say on my bed frame there were multiple holes for mounting the frame that the mattress sat on. Mine was built using the lowest holes so my bed sits unusually low to make it easier for Crow to get on top.
My biggest fear was Mom would get stupid and try to manage my sex life or try to inject (my) sex life into our conversations. The fact that she brought it up instead of me told me my sex life was a bigger deal to her than me. The worst part at school about being gay was the risk of being beat because rednecks confused gayness with weakness and cowardice. The worst part about being outed by my Mom was what she'd do with that knowledge. Was that the actual reason why I started seeing Mister Levinthal, because Mom believed gayness was a mental disorder that needed treatment? It wouldn't surprise me, my grandparents are that way too.
While I whimpered into my pillow Crow took it from me, he pulled it away and tossed it on the floor, and then he stared in my eyes. I felt embarrassed and wiped my face dry and told him thanks. Crow had a way of smiling at me where he squinted his eyes slightly like he did during his reward dinner. I leaned forward and kissed the top of his head and scratched behind his ears, he leaned hard against my fingers and groaned while I itched his spot. Then I went in my bathroom to get a handful of Q-tips to clean his nasty dog ears. Crow did not like it when I cried and sometimes tried to make me stop by doing shit (to distract me), even if it meant making me mad, dogs fully understanding human crying.
His actions prove how to some extent Crow tries to control my behavior and my moods. Not only that, but he is expert at reading my moods and he takes a great interest in how I feel. I've not told you this before but I think he can sometimes even inject himself into my dreams, where he can appear human-like. If he has something really important to tell me that's how he does it, in my dreams. It's almost like he tries to be my father or spiritual guide sometimes. I never tell anyone because it sounds crazy.
About ten minutes later I was sniffling and blowing my nose when my phone rang, it was Tom. I tried to force myself to talk normally but he could tell something was wrong. I told him I was just force-ably outed. He gasped. We talked for almost two hours. I lay on my side and covered my head with the pillow to muffle my voice so she couldn't hear me through the wall. I wished I had spent the evening beside him instead of by phone.
Tom had been through it too but way back in sixth grade before he even knew what sex was or what his balls were really for. He told me how horribly it went when his mom came home from work early and saw a neighbor boy on his knees sucking his dick.
He said his dick stuck out like a flagpole while he stood by the bed with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed. The kid was on his knees with his head sliding in and out on his boner. His mom stood in the doorway watching the show for a few moments until the kid with the dick in his mouth noticed her standing there watching. That happened when he was twelve years old. He told me he does not discuss gay with her, but she is too sensitive anyway.
We decided to get together here Saturday night.
I took Crow out for a walk around 10pm. I was in bed by 11pm. Slept all night after going to bed without dinner. Tom convinced me it was a good thing she outed me and I should apologize for not telling her sooner, even if I didn't mean it. He said to tell her what she wants to hear and be done with it for the rest of my life.
The time I spent talking to Tom really fixed me and I slept all night. I laughed at his suggestion, it was simple and would probably work but it was dishonest. Like Mom said, I got no poker-face skills. She could see it when I told her a tale. I hated that about myself, but that's half her fault too. So Tom's idea was to tell her over the phone or put it in writing, that way there would be no body language. I only had to do it one time, tell her she was right all along. `Gosh Mom, you are so smart...'
Saturday morning.
My alarm went off, I got up around 7am and got dressed for work (long sleeve shirt, undershirt, jeans, socks, boots). I already knew what I was doing at work today. We had no volunteer or intern so I was on kennel duty all day. When Mom parked in the alley behind the clinic she pointed to a car in the parking lot next door, another Crown Vic!
I spent nine hours scrubbing cages (about twenty minutes per cage), walking dogs and cleaning-up piles in the yard. I loved dogs, which made the job tolerable. The kennel dogs somehow sensed I was a dog-ally. Usually, I brought treats for every dog. Probably ten percent of every paycheck went into dog treats I bought in bulk at the farm store and stuffed them in my pockets, two per dog.
I got home around 4:15pm and hit the shower, after that I emailed Tom. He confirmed he was coming over at 6pm. This was the first time we were all together, post-outing. When he walked in the front door Crow met him by rapidly standing up and placing a microscopic tongue touch on the tip of his nose. Like sniper fire his tiny touch happened in a flash, it was over before Tom had the chance to be startled. I considered asking him if he felt tongue or teeth but decided to not ask. It amazed me the precision Crow was sometimes capable of.
After he nailed Tom I explained just one of the possible reasons for his behavior, the other reason was something I kept secret because it exposed the darker side of the dog I didn't want visitors to know, it could also have been a threat (look what I can do to you).
"Tom, we met at the hospital but these are different circumstances, let me introduce you, this is Lisa Davis. Mom, Thomas Riley Junior." I saw the discomfort on Mom's face when I introduced Tom who looked 80% Hispanic but had a 100% Irish name. The last time she saw him he was only covered by a bed sheet from the pubes to his ankles.
"Misses Davis," he said offering his handshake.
"Please call me Lisa or Mom. At 38 I'm too young to be called Misses. She said with a chuckle grabbing his hand returning a very brief but limp handshake. Tom glanced at me with a look of 'that was weird.' But that's my mom, the Queen of Nerdy. That's what happened to genius kids who earned a PhD at age 24.
"Fine, 'Mom' it is." He said as their hands dropped during an awkward moment.
"You look like you've recovered well, have you eaten son?"
"No ma'am, and yes I'm hungry."
"Okay, let's go downtown for dinner, my treat!"
Tom and I smiled at each other and did a high five. Crow stood by with a wagging tail knowing he was about to be excluded but excited that his pack was happy. Mom left to finish getting ready and we went to the TV-room.
Tom turned to Crow, dropped to his knees, threw his arms around the dog that saved his life and playfully bulldozed him against the sofa where the huge wrestling match started. It got out of hand quickly but nothing was broken. Nobody else would wrestle with Crow any more but Tom started it (he hadn't been initiated yet) and Crow loved to wrestle but he didn't like to lose. It wasn't very often he got to demonstrate his agility.
I knew how these things usually went. Crow would pretend to be handicapped by the slick floor and being too large and lazy to move strategically with surgical precision, I think he did that to trick people into getting closer and not paying close attention. Then all of a sudden when he saw a vulnerability he'd attack with over whelming hyper-precise force and usually won most pretend wrestling matches.
The thing Tom didn't know was although it was fun, winning wrestling matches with men was something Crow took very seriously, and he played to win, no matter what. The only advantage Tom had was traction on the floor, but the dog didn't know wrestling rules, and had no problem doing whatever he needed to win, including using his teeth. But I trusted Crow that he wouldn't bite (anyone) except in self defense. The dog fully understood it was a game but sometimes he'd get aggressive without warning. When he got serious he always won. The trick to wrestling with Crow was to never let the physical part get escalated too much.
Crow practically flew around the room trying not to get tackled. The dog did these little fake biting attacks on Tom's arms but he wasn't even leaving red spots, they were just for fun and show. Tom quickly saw the dog was playing and tried hard to grab his lower legs to dump him on his side while Crow tried to stay airborne as well as a 150lb Great Dane who can't fly could. Crow flew up on the sofa and smashed the side of his head against Tom's head which knocked him back on his butt and made me laugh because I've seen that exact move before. Crow's list of wrestling moves is rather short but sometimes he creates a new one.
One of the things Crow liked to do was to grab your arm in his mouth and shake his head side to side and growl like it was real but his grip wasn't tight, so he fully understood it was just a game but we made it look realish. Sometimes we'd howl in pain which made him growl even louder but it still was just a game. For some reason Crow really liked playing fake-rough. The worst part was your sleeve got wet and you got scratch marks on your arm from his teeth.
Eventually Tom pinned Crow against the front of the sofa, lifted four dog legs and dropped him onto his side on the floor and held him down, to win the match (or so he thought).
The tactical mistake Tom made was he thought that when he pinned the dog he won the game and the match was over. But the dog saw being pinned down as a signal to crank it up, time to teach the `person' a lesson. (In retrospect it appeared the dog-tap on Tom's nose at the front door wasn't enough of a warning and I may have given Tom the wrong meaning of what Crow did). I'll explain that soon.
The one big problem with playing that way with Crow was how to stop the game without making him think he did something wrong. Daniel usually hugged his upper body and kissed him several times which always ended it peacefully. People like to kiss Crow on the side of his face between the corner of his mouth and his ear. His fur is very soft there too.
Crow retreated to his corner of the TV room back legs straight, front legs down and flat on the floor, butt in the air, tail perfectly straight and motionless, tongue hanging out and red as blood, eyes wide open like a dog poised to attack. Tom jumped to his feet, made his hands like monster claws, bent over at the waist and growled a monster-like cry at the 150 pound dog. Crow suddenly lunged at his face knocking Tom backwards onto the sofa tipping it back into the wall with a huge THUD! Tom grabbed his ear and yelled (FUCK!) in pain. I saw blood between his fingers. I turned to look at Crow. He was standing back across the room, mouth-shut, tail stiff, eyes super wide open. Crow was re-loaded and immediately ready to attack again.
Mom quickly came in the room to see what caused the crash. "What the hell?" were her first words.
"I think Crow won again Mom." I said with my hand over my mouth to hide my smile.
Tom sat on the sofa grimacing and holding his ear with a few drops of blood oozing between his fingers, Mom handed him some tissues. She had him move his hand so she could check. Blood dripped from the hole in his ear lobe. Tom looked down and picked up the backing from his earring off the floor. We all looked at Crow who was across the room in his corner. He was staring-down Tom seriously.
While we were looking at the dog he spit out Tom's tiny diamond earring. It landed on the hardwood TV room floor with a loud TICK. Mom burst out laughing and immediately left for the refrigerator. Crow's tail wagged rather fast. I gave him the hand signal for GO-BED. He stood up and pranced victoriously down the hallway without any further action, and just like that the game was over. I put my hand over my mouth again so Tom couldn't see me smile, I glanced in the kitchen, Mom had one hand tightly pressed over her mouth trying not to laugh as she reached inside the freezer.
We tended to the re-wounded Tom, gave him back his undamaged (but slimy) earring and admonished him from now on to 'let the Great Dane win.' Doctor Mom tended to him with an ice cube and more paper towels. I took both halves and ran them under hot water and dried them off. We dabbed some peroxide on the wound then in a few minutes the bleeding was stopped, the blood was gone, and the earring was back in place. Tom now had pain in his ear and his pride. His entire ear was as red as a fire truck and he had a few drops of blood on his nice brown shirt too but we never told him the true meaning of what happened.
It was obvious then that the welcome he got when he entered the front door was in fact a warning. Crow often saw new friends of mine as potential threats to his position in our pack as #2, and warned them in a subtle way. The warning from Crow was: 'This is my fucking house, don't think you're going to weasel your way in without my permission, boy.'
Like I said, Great Danes are so large (and they know it) they can get controlling and possessive about things and in ways people do not understand. Rank in the pack is very important to some dogs, especially the tall ones. Since dogs are very social they fully understand rank inside the family. Some dogs care, others do not. Crow is someone who cares and pays close attention to anyone or anything that might lower his position in the pack. That is what this entire show was about. Mom and I have had long discussions about it. We have to take it seriously because Crow is a very large animal.
I suggested to Tom that he take his shirt off so we could clean off the blood in the sink but he didn't like my plan. I suggested we go in my room and let him try on dress shirts but he didn't want that either. His dress shirt was dark brown so the blood drops were not very visible anyway. Mom used the kitchen phone to make dinner reservations for three. I could tell Tom was upset and I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to leave.
When Tom went in the little bathroom I whispered to Mom, "How did he do that?" But she looked at me and shrugged her shoulders, somehow in a fraction of a second the dog pinched the earring with his front teeth and stole it (from Tom's ear lobe) but didn't swallow or drop it until everyone was watching. To me that showed a level of cunning, motivation, and precision I would have never believed any dog was capable of, had I not seen it with my own eyes. Mom and I just glanced at each other realizing it was another impossible feat done by the world's laziest Great Dane. "I don't get it." I whispered to Mom, "That makes two of us." She replied at a whisper. Sometimes the dog went beyond amazing, and sometimes he went far enough beyond amazing to qualify as frightening. Sometimes we saw him perform premeditated acts with skill and precision that dogs weren't supposed to be physically capable of.
It's like I tell people: he's big enough to kill us any time he wants, he just never wants to do it. It's not unlike raising a grizzly bear cub inside the house, sooner or later... Mom had said we should get a couple live chickens and slaughter and butcher them at home so Crow can see we are capable of killing animals.
Crow has never shown aggression towards us, just visitors that pushed the limits.
Thirty minutes later we all climbed in the front seat of her car and drove downtown near Fillmore and 7th Avenue to a family owned Mexican restaurant she really liked. They had a live Mariachi band and a line out the door. We had a table waiting on the covered patio out back. I think she knew the owners.
After ordering we sat there listening to the music and looking around and this time pointed it out, there were two Crown Vic's in the small back parking lot near the patio! We congratulated him on remembering to spot them!
While we were eating salsa and chips I explained to Tom why nobody wrestled with Crow, he didn't like to lose.
"You mean he fucking cheats!" He glanced at Mom and apologized for swearing loud enough to hear over the entire patio. Mom glanced at me, we both winked, we've had four years of wrestling antics at home and sometimes they ended with someone getting hurt. Anyone can wrestle with Crow, the trick was to not let things get escalated. Daniel was the one who discovered how to wrestle the right way.
Tom smiled and said he'd probably not try again. And poor Tom had to go to a very nice restaurant with dried blood drops on the shoulder of his nice shirt. I told him the signal the dog knows is if you get in the middle of any room on your hands and knees, that starts the match, it's his signal to play.
After our salsa and chips arrived I stopped talking about Crow and the subject became restaurants and cooking. Tom liked talking about restaurants, he grew up in and around restaurants and Mexican chefs. When it came to the restaurant business he was very smart, but he knew it from a business perspective, not really as a customer.
Underneath our entire evening it seemed like he was still pissed off at losing to the dog.
The restaurant was wonderful, the music was authentic Mariachi and the food was real Tex-Mex. I think we ate two pounds of salsa and fresh hot corn tortilla chips, they just kept bringing more and more. Mom and I ordered steak fajitas and Tom had a beef/bean burrito with a ton of cheese and lettuce inside. He never commented on the food, probably because he was a competitor. I think Mom had five beers, she asked me to dance with her but I just nodded no. I thought she actually wanted to dance with Tom but she never asked him. About thirty minutes later she forced me to slow dance with her, but it was fun. She's almost as tall as Tom so she looked like my date.
We left about 9:30pm when the band took a break, Mom left a huge tip and tipped the band $200 in cash. When Tom saw her drop a fifty on the table he looked at me and raised one eyebrow really high, I just smiled back. But the tab was huge, I think I saw it was $215 for all of us and her beers. On the way out she asked us to wait by the door. She walked over to the band and slipped the band leader a fifty and shook his hand. I whispered to Tom that she was drunk. Then she drove us home rather slowly. Tom offered to drive but she said she was going slowly and we'd get home safely, it might take a little longer. And she took the back streets all the way home. It's like seven miles from home to downtown, she stayed off the highway and hit every light red. Tom said he looked out the back window on the way home and said it looked like we were followed all the way by a Crown Vic! Mom laughed at his comment but we glanced at each other and made eye contact. I thought we were being followed by someone. Those cars are everywhere in Amarillo.
When we got back I said we needed to do the last dog-walk of the day. I let Tom hold the leash and after we got on the sidewalk I gave him a brief speech about how to walk and control an animal large enough to dislocate his shoulder, we used a combination of respect and control. Walking the dog you had to be constantly on watch for cats or rodents running in front of him because if he suddenly bolted he could do serious damage to your shoulder joint or even pull you down on the sidewalk before you even knew something happened.
We walked and talked for a long time, all the way down to John Stiff Park and all around the park and the lake. Crow walked between us but bounced into me as if pretending I actually held the leash. I knew this meant nothing to Tom but it was important to Crow. He wasn't going to risk losing the number two spot in the pack to a newcomer. Tonight I noticed Tom occasionally had a slight gay accent, otherwise he was perfectly straight acting in public.
We returned home around 10:45pm. Crow was enthusiastic and walked with a prance most of the time. `What a show-off' I thought. We went to my room, turned on the radio. I warned Tom that Mom could sometimes hear us through the wall. We stretched out on our backs talking quietly for nearly an hour before the subject of when he had to be home came-up.
"So what time do you need to be home?" I asked.
"She said midnight, but I can call." I assumed he meant call for an extension.
At 11:15pm I sat on the desk chair and handed him the phone and dialed his home number then got on my knees beside the bed to watch him talk to his mom.
"Ola Mommy. We just got back de un restaurante Mexicano downtown, puedo dormir aquí esta noche? Si, I know. Si. No, none of that. Yep. Okay. Esta fine. Hasta las siete, gracias Momi. Adios." He handed me the phone with a smile. I noticed he turned on a semi-Mexican accent while he spoke to her.
"I take it that was good news?"
"She said to be home by 7am, so set your alarm now, okay?"
I turned to my desk, set the alarm for six and turned it on. The other red dot came on.
"What about your mom?" he asked.
"We'll just do it and see if she gets mad. I know she can't kill me, Crow won't let her."
We both laughed, but that made Tom chuckle loudly.
I got up the courage to ask him to see his knife wound. Tom slowly climbed out of bed and gestured for me to lie back in my spot on the bed.
He unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt and pulled it from his jeans, and then he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants while closely watching me. I felt my dick react the moment I saw his flawless belly button.
He shoved his jeans down several inches and lifted one side of his shirt then pushed one side of his underwear down to give me a good look at his scar. I reached up to turn on the reading lamp on the headboard and aimed it at his belly.
His belly button was super sexy, very wide and tapered beautifully down to the bottom of a featureless cup like a thimble. He had no tan line and even flashed me a little bit of his pubes which were shiny black and curly, like mine.
His scar was a jagged dark red line almost three inches long with white dots on both sides from stitches. It looked like a lightning bolt tattoo done in maroon ink.
I reached a finger out and barely touched it. He said it was still tender and he flinched when I barely touched it.
Then I slid my fingertip over and circled around his belly button a couple times then stopped myself before my hand did naughty things (that's something Dan and I used to say when we were little kids). I'm sure Tom was getting turned on just like me, but nothing showed. I told him it was full to the top with blood that night.
Then I heard the clicking of dog nails on the hallway floor outside my door. I looked at Tom, shrugged my shoulders and said, "He wants in." Tom never said a thing. So I climbed out of bed opened the door to let the dog in, then closed and locked it. Crow walked up beside the bed. Tom sat on the edge of the mattress with his pants still wide open. I sat down on the desk stool and scratched his back.
"Crow!" He turned his head to look me in the eye. I knew I had his attention.
"While we got the time we should teach him your name." Tom looked at me as if I was kidding. "Watch this."
"Crow!" His tail slowly swayed side to side but then he sort of started to pay attention to my face.
I patted myself on the chest and said, "Rob," then I gently touched the dog and said, "Crow," then reached to Tom and touched his chest and said, "Tom!" I gently gripped the dog's jaw and got close to nose to nose with him because I knew he had good eyesight just beyond the tip of his nose, we looked eye to eye and I very slowly and carefully said the name again so he could watch my mouth when I said it, Taahhhhmmm. Then I let him go.
I went around again and again. Then it was Tom's turn, he did it exactly the same way but reversed the order. Crow took in the entire show, tail slowly swaying knowing what was coming. We went slowly and we went fast but we kept it going for about two minutes. After a bit I added more words that he already knew, it became: NOSE, DOG, ROB, BED, TOM, and TAIL. We went around touching things and saying names, we touched all three noses, the one bed, our ears, and the three of us. I showed Crow we all had the same parts except, "Rob no Tail. Oops. Tom no Tail. Awwww." I always wanted to point out that he had a tail and we didn't which meant he had something special that we lacked.
The next step was like a test. The three of us were in a circle. I was on the chair, Tom sat on the edge of the mattress and Crow stood beside the bed. I gently held him at the rear of his jaw and said 'Rob.' Then they looked at me and I said HI!. Then I said 'Tom.' and turned his head to look at Tom so both of us looked at Tom and he said Hi! Then I said Crow and we both looked at him and he snorted, which was funny.
"See how quickly he learns words? I think it's neat as hell."
"I gotta say that I have never seen anyone go to such lengths to teach stuff to a dog," he added. By then Crow was staring at me with a slight look of distress on his face.
"Sorry boy." I told Tom that Crow wanted to get into bed but he blocked the way. Tom laughed and stood up (with his slacks still open).
"Crow, you need to go over by the wall and make a new dog spot. Go bed." I pointed to the far corner of the mattress. I realized all he really understood were the last two words and my hand gesture.
Crow climbed up on the bed, stepped around Tom, walked two circles and collapsed into the wall with his legs folded under him, he looked at Tom then me.
"Good dog." I said as Crow looked at me with a slightly upset look on his face, sort of a lowered snout and ears look.
"Does he understand everything you tell him?"
"There's no way to know, the problem is he hides what he knows. Mom and I think he doesn't like being told what to do, no matter what tone of voice we use. He sees himself as the man of the house and reluctantly does what we tell him. I think if he wasn't such an indoor sofa dog he'd be more obedient. An advantage we had was Crow was horribly lazy and just wanted to get along, but when a new person came around," I pointed at Tom, "then all his instinct about rank within the pack got re-activated."
We both stared at Crow while he was unable to wag his tail because it was under his leg. "He's upset 'cause he can't wag his tail."
"How do you know that?" Tom asked still watching the large black dog down by his feet.
"He just told me."
"Wow. You guys have great communication."
"Sometimes he comes to me in my dreams. Crow said we're here to protect and help each other. What he did to the cowboy was a sample of how far he's prepared to go for the pack."
"Holy crap, I never actually saw him that night. He moved so fast it was like a blur, like an angel of death. I wonder if the cowboy saw death charging at him."
"Well he was facing the house when he stabbed you then the window exploded but it was pretty dark, I doubt he saw anything because it was too dark and Crow moved too fast. The cops told Mom it was the impact on his throat that killed him. Creepy just thinking about it isn't it. And to think this gentle-giant has slept with me since the day he was born, all the time possessing the ability to end my life but everyday deciding not to."
"Never thought about it before, sort of like keeping a grizzly bear in the house, big enough to kill you if it ever got the idea. Treat him with respect and he returned it with respect too. Neat." Tom said with the look of really understanding the risks of owning such a large dog.
"Yep, that's what we do, two-way respect. He's never been spanked or hit or anything violent, except playing. But he likes that."
"Until he loses!" Tom said in his own defense.
"Like C3PO said in Star Wars: I suggest a new strategy R2, let the Wookie win."
"You guys are really close huh?" I heard a note of distress when he asked that question like he wondered if there was room in my life for someone else.
"Not really. He's not all hugs and kisses like that, he sets the rules which is part of our agreement. Crow is pretty serious about protecting his pack, he's actually not very affectionate. Crow's problem is his fur feels irresistibly soft to human hands so he seems like a big cuddly stuffed bear."
"I think I understand. How does he feel about me?"
"He likes you. He likes you because he closely watches how his pack treats you. He just mirrors what he sees. We're like a three-dog pack. I'm the alpha, he's number two ready to take the alpha spot if I fall."
"You think he knows we're gay?" Tom whispered after he turned and sat against the headboard on the wall-side of the bed, and then rubbed the dog with his bare foot.
"Yes, he knows something's up, but he doesn't understand it. He knows we're both boys, he can smell that. I think dogs are naturally hetero so I'm sure he understands what's going on between us. Honestly though Danes are very lazy, I think he's too lazy to care, to him the pack is what it is, he was born into it, he didn't start it himself. So he never tries to control the pack, just protection."
"Wow, is it safe to be on your bed you think?"
"Very, as long as you don't attack me, even then I think he would overlook some amount of violence thinking it was a game at first. You could stab me in my sleep and walk out unharmed." Then I regretted using that word.
"Wow, dog brains! Who knew? I've never had a dog and now I owe my life to one. Weird!"
Tom put his head down on the other pillow that actually belonged to the dog. Crow had his eyes closed with his nose by Tom's foot. I softly told Tom not to feel threatened because Crow still struggled to understand the Great Dane in the mirror in Mom's bedroom, then we were quiet for a while.
He asked why it seemed like dogs didn't understand their own reflection and I told him I thought dogs were not born with a sense of `me.' I think they figure it out eventually but it makes them think of themselves in ways that are non-sense to them. It would be like us walking outside and suddenly being alarmed and fascinated by our own shadows on the ground. Our shadow to us is like their reflection to them. Dog's eyes have a very wide field of view so they know what they look like, except their faces are just a tiny part of the entire dog, they go by scent, not images. So it's no surprise their reflection in the mirror is an oddity, like looking at our own chest x-ray and people think it's weird that we don't recognize ourselves.
"Can I ask you something really personal?" Tom said staring at the wall. "Sure." I said staring at the ceiling but I felt a wave of anxiety cross my brain because of the change in his voice.
"Be honest with me, is there room in your life for a boyfriend, it looks like you're pretty tight with the dog."
I rolled over on my side and looked in his eyes.
"A boyfriend is a different kind of friend than a dog. Crow gets a lot of attention from me because I make time for him but he's only got five or six more years to live." I regretted having to answer it that way but it's the best I could come up with on short notice, but I should have been mentally prepared for that question. Thank God Tom hasn't met Daniel yet because I'm sure he'll think the same thing about Dan. I considered talking about Daniel right then but decided to wait until they actually met, Dan takes a lot of explaining ahead of time.
"See where he is on the bed, down by my feet? He always sleeps down there, we don't sleep like husband and wife, he likes his space and leg room, and he picked that spot, not me. Crow is not a big fan of being petted or hugged, he likes his autonomy. He sees himself as a grown strong man, not a stuffed toy. But he does like attention and he really likes being the tallest man in the room too. He gets off on that shit."
Then Tom asked, "Didn't you say you were the pack leader?"
"Yes, I am according to the dog."
"Well, why not your mom? She's obviously older and you said the dog knows she is your mother."
"It's complicated. But pack rank was created by Crow when he was a puppy. We think he picked me because I'm the tallest."
"Wait! You told me the dog is the tallest, taller than you."
"Yes, but we were here first and I raised him and bottle fed him, he is bonded to me so he will always be subordinate to me. He knows we were a pack before he was born, so in his mind I became pack leader because I bottle fed him and protected him as a baby dog. I think if I died or left that he would challenge Mom for first place. But he'll also probably reach an age where he'll stop caring about rank."
Tom sat there in silence briefly and laughed a couple times at how odd it all was having such a large animal in the house and how much he affected our lives, he also said that we went pretty far to give him a good life, he hoped the dog realized that.
I told Tom, "Of course he does, that was why he flew through a window to try to protect you, a visitor, with no regard for his own life." And he said, "Ahhhh, now I understand."
We paused again briefly then I added, "I never tell this to anyone, but the trick to being friends with Crow is to treat him with respect as if he was a large adult man. Don't touch him unless he invites you to. If Crow decides he has accepted you as part of his pack when he stands next to you he'll lean against you, once he starts doing that then it's over and you're friends forever." Tom just smiled and nodded yes and said he'll watch for that sign.
We had a few more moments of silence just lying on the bed, I reached over and put my hand on his chest to feel him breathe. He closed his eyes, so I unbuttoned his shirt all the way, he never moved or smiled more as I un-did all the buttons and spread it wide open like he did to me in the car. At a whisper I told him that nobody ever occupied the boyfriend spot in my heart, and I was still a virgin.
Tom has unusually large puffy oval nipples, they're darker than mine but nearly perfect in their oval shape, the size of a jumbo egg in the shell, hardboiled and cut in half lengthwise. He had a tiny round teat on top like a faint circle. I slid my hand over and moved my thumb across it. His tit squished like a marshmallow but never got crinkly hard. The tit flesh was very soft too, it just snapped back into the proper shape.
His tits were very different from mine. The way his chest muscles were shaped he'd have to look down to see them, they sort of aimed forward and down instead of straight ahead like mine. I kept stroking his tit with my thumb and felt my rod inflating. I looked at his pants but couldn't tell if he was hard or not.
Then I did something I never imagined myself doing. I stood up and turned off all the lights except the reading lamp on the headboard. Then I took off my clothes in front of him. I started with my socks, then my jeans, then my underwear, and then my shirt. After I was naked I stood beside the bed all lit up with his eyes only two feet away so he could see my body all lit up. He looked at my dick and balls closely then smiled and patted my spot on the bed.
While I got in bed he reached down his underwear to re-position his too so the head was above the waistband.
I was on my back with my right side against him, he rested his right palm on my stomach and tried to fingertip rub my belly button lump. I explained it to him but he said he wanted to look at it with a magnifying lens some day because he didn't understand it.
He slid his hand down and grabbed my dick then slid his hand up and down. I reached up and shut off the light. I felt him move around but the room was very dark. Then I felt something cool and wet envelope my boner. He stroked and worked me and I think I lasted about sixty seconds and started to deeply moan and warned him I was going to come soon, but he stayed in place. Then I felt it swell and my prostate started to pump and I softly grunted as it squirted into his mouth, then he pulled off and snuggled against me and rubbed my flat tits and we fell asleep.
The last thing he had to say was I tasted great. Soon after that we were both asleep.
My Dream:
I don't know if they mean anything but I've been having Indian encampment dreams for about four years now, they're always similar. I had one again the night after the stabbing but for the first time Tom was in it too. We were walking back to our village on a worn dirt path along a rather fast moving river. It was water on one side and trees on the other.
We approached something ahead and I saw a community of mud and buffalo hide shelters (teepees), it was just after sunset, and we carried two stringers of fish. Tom and I walked into the settlement and gave the fish to an older woman with long black and gray hair. I glanced at him, Tom was a strong and proud warrior and hunter. Tom had long black hair and lots of muscles on his upper body. We were wearing leather knee length pants, with beads around our necks and long black hair with a string around to keep it from blowing in the wind. Tom was shirtless like me but as the sun went down we both felt the temperature drop quickly.
We un-tied the door and got inside our round shelter with a wood pole frame and the curved dome roof covered with large tanned hides. Our floor was covered with tanned buffalo hides. I heard a dog bark once outside our shelter and walked to the opening.
An old man stood outside with a very expressionless face, he wore a headband with two feathers sticking up in back. He stared at me, I stood aside and held open the flap so he could look inside, then he nodded and silently walked off. That was our tribal leader Soaring Crow doing his nightly head count. I walked back to Tom as he carefully set a small log on our fire. We sat cross legged beside the fire. He raised his arm to show me the flesh a little below his nearly hairless arm pit. Several inches down was a small tattoo of a stick man. Our secret was the stick man was me and I was walking toward his chest.
We stood near the fire and held each other and kissed briefly. I slid my hands up his muscular arms, across his powerful shoulders, and down his strong chest, across his hairless lower stomach, then down to his leather pants and it took a few moments to locate his dick, then I squeezed it and my dream ended.
I had a matching tattoo on my flank that symbolized him walking toward my crotch.
Sunday Morning.
The alarm clock buzzed at 6am. Like every day since he was born I got up to let Crow out. I saw Mom sitting at the kitchen bar. "How was your night?" she asked. I still paraded around the house on weekend mornings in my underwear, she's never complained about it.
"He's leaving soon," Mom was sitting on a bar stool sipping coffee. I stood near the kitchen door waiting on Crow. I commented to Mom how much fun we had at the restaurant last night and thanked her again. He returned to the door, I let him in. The dog went to the utility room to eat a little and drink. I went back to the bedroom and closed the door.
Back in my room Tom was tying his shoes. I marveled at his body. Unfortunately he already put his shirt on and stood up signaling he was ready. I stepped aside allowing him to the door. He walked up and kissed me on the mouth, then opened the door and walked to the front door. We exchanged goodbyes, shook hands, and he walked outside alone. I closed it behind him then walked to the kitchen. Crow emerged from the utility room after having finished eating the rest of his dog food.
I got out two pop tarts and dropped them into the toaster and stood there waiting, staring out the window above the sink. Mom walked up looking me up and down, briefly inspecting the boy she gave birth to eighteen years ago.
"Are you still a virgin?" She asked in a serious whisper.
"Yes Mother, in school they say I'm a practicing virgin." I said with a disappointed tone.
"What about him?"
"Nope, he says he's not."
"Has he ever been tested?" She enquired now also looking out the window at the boarded-up living room window. We saw the shadow of his car back down the driveway and disappear.
"I'll ask him but I don't think he's been around enough to catch anything except a cold."
"You better ask and get tested if the answer is no. You can get tested at University Hospital for free you know? Just go to the ER and ask."
"Thanks Mom."
Then the toaster popped. I grabbed them carefully and went back to my room where they both disappeared within four minutes.
I pulled the sheets off my bed and walked back to the utility room dropping them into the basket of colored items then returned to my room closing the door. I landed on my back and grabbed myself and wanked all over my stomach and chest.
Yes Mom, I still have virginity.' I thought to myself. My V is intact.'
I doubt she believed me. My hot new boyfriend just spent the night in my bed with the door locked, she was probably sure we fucked half the night, but we never did. I actually slept all night, same with Crow.
I took a shower and went back to fire up the computer and wrote two paragraphs to Mister Levinthal trying to explain the changes at home over the past two weeks. I think I better fess up to being gay to him too, Mom probably told him years ago.
I stopped typing and thought about Daniel, I needed to update him soon too. Although sometimes he was rather comical, when it came to sex and relationship things he often had great insight and sounded like a wise elder. Daniel was a mountain of paradox. He looked very different from how he was inside. I think if he dressed like he was inside he'd wear a used tuxedo to school with a top-hat like politicians in the 1800s. I dearly loved Daniel, but I can't really tell him that because our desires would surely get in the way. If I could I'd adopt him because I felt a strong desire to protect him, something his parents stopped doing the day he started wearing eye makeup.
In some ways I am about Daniel like Crow is about me and Mom.
Write the author: borischenaz mailfence