Seniors United - Christmas Day
Charlie awoke at 10 a.m. It was the longest he'd slept in a long, long time, and the latest in probably five years. He stretched out his arms and his legs, tossed the covers aside, and slowly stood up, carefully putting his feet in the correct slippers. He went to the clothes closet, easily found his robe, put it on, then headed to the kitchen.
A yawn proceeded him into the kitchen. First, make coffee, then remember to look for the newspaper. As he filled the coffee maker with water, then coffee, he wondered about the newspaper. He had called in, arranging the transfer of the delivery from the house to the apartment, with a five-day delay, to allow him to get moved in and settled.
At the front door, leaning against the outside was his newspaper. Attached to the paper by a rubber band was a holiday greeting card with an envelope already addressed with the name of the delivery man, and a separate card with his address and phone number. A sure pitch for a tip. Charlie was getting the newspaper for the first time, hardly a time to reward a history of good service.
Coming back to the kitchen, Charlie spread out the paper, first looking for the weather report. He knew it was cold. The question of a further storm is what interested him now.
Here it is: snow flurries into the afternoon. Snow was predicted daily for the rest of the week. He was glad he didn't have to go out to work, though he would have to do some grocery shopping.
Now, about the potluck this afternoon, what was around that he could use to make finger food? In the refrigerator he found a head of celery and some heavy weight cheese dip. In the pantry was a small can of chopped black olives. Now, he thought, I've got the makings of celery sticks stuffed with dip and black olives. That's easy enough to do after I've had my coffee and read the paper.
Already there were ads in the paper for after-Christmas sales. He missed the exchanging of gifts, but it was certainly nice to avoid battling his way through throngs of avid shoppers, some battling over a particular item in short supply. Some seemed to approach the whole business of shopping as an exercise in the art of war, battle dress a wise choice to enter into the fray.
The news was not too interesting. Yes, the arabs were revolting against their dictators, but decency on the part of the dictators was missing. It seemed that Assad in Syria delighted in killing his own people. And, the kings of the three little United Arab monarchies weren't above bringing in Saudi troops to put down the legitimate aspirations for a participatory democracy. Some times you wonder why we Yanks delight in selling so much armament to these little, two-bit nations which didn't need to defend themselves, just keep their dictatorships in power.
Oh, well, the newspaper was full of dismal news: too many still out of work because of the banks' and big stock brokerages' games with worthless mortgages. No doubt we'll continue to let them play stupid games while insuring them against loss. We did it before, we'll do it again. No car insurer would let a habitual drunk driver have insurance. Why do we continue to underwrite the financial industry's ridiculous games?
Here's another CEO getting a big year-end bonus while the corporation lost money for the year!
Charlie was getting angry reading the newspaper's financial section. He turned to the sports section and found little of interest. Multi-millionaire basketball players were trying to take over their teams and bankrupt them. I ....ah. Charlie put down the newspaper.
Toast was necessary. He ate two slices. Then he made the dip, a very simple task, washed and cut the celery ribs into two-inch pieces, mixed the olives with the dip, spread it thickly on the celery, covered the plate it with Saran wrap, put the plate in the refrigerator, and he was done with his contribution for the pot-luck.
He took his coffee mug into the bathroom, where he stripped off his robe, looked at his almost flat stomach, and resolved to keep exercising even in this snowy Winter. A few strokes with his electric razor, and his face was presentable. He wished he could grow a decent looking mustache, but there weren't enough whiskers in the right places.
One thing he liked immediately about living in the apartment was that when you turn on the hot water, it is hot. No waiting for the water to turn slowly from cold to hot. He carefully wet his head, applied shampoo, massaged it in, rinsed, and was ready to cleanse his body. The dermatologist had told him he needn't use soap to wash off dried sweat. Running water would do that. Soap dried out the skin too much for him. Just soap the portions that were dirty. He had to use a moisturizing lotion when he got out of the shower . He brushed his thinning hair, took his robe into his closet to hang it up. Then, what to wear?
Obviously, the style of the clothing would be casual. He'd just put on a knitted short-sleeve shirt, some khakis, and a pair of comfortable shoes.
Charlie was surprised when he finished dressing. It was a bit before 2 p.m., time to go to the potluck. He collected his celery sticks from the refrigerator, expecting to go to Rose and Yolanda's apartment. Instead, he found tables and chairs set up in the big open space outside their door. People had already placed their contributions on a buffet table. He could smell the roast beefs and hams in their kitchen, ready to come out to the buffet table.
He spotted Henry at a table with two other men. Henry waved him over and said, "I've saved us seats here. I'd like you to meet John and Sam, who live on the next floor up." Charlie greeted them both, shook hands, then sat down beside Henry. A conversation started up.
John asked him, "Have you lived in the city before? Do you know your way around? We are happy to show you the city."
"Thanks," Charlie replied, "but I've lived in a different part of the city for several years, and know my way around. After my partner died, I moved from the big house we had. I like the apartment, and I like the friendliness I've found in this building. Is it like this in all the Seniors United complex?'
"No, I don't think it is," Sam interjected. "This building is mainly gays and lesbians, and we've become friends, almost family. Most of us don't have any other family, except maybe those with partners as wonderful as John." John blushed, started to speak when Yolanda flitted by, announcing that the food was on the buffet table, time to eat.
Henry, Sam and John insisted Charlie go first, so he picked up a heavy plastic plate at the start of the spread, and looked over the assembled food. His celery sticks led the finger food display. He took one. He passed up the little slices of bread with cheese or anchovies. He never did like anchovies. Big slices of roast and ham were next, then vegetables. Finally, dessert, but he'd come back for that. At the end was a bowl with a little sign requesting diners to contribute $2. each to pay for the meat. Charlie dropped a five dollar bill into the bowl, noticing the bills seemed to be mostly fives.
On a separate table were a pitcher of iced tea, a big coffee maker, a tea pot carefully kept warm under a tea cozy, and glasses and cups. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and headed to their table. Henry, Sam and John soon followed him. Henry asked the other men to join hands, and he led a short prayer of thanksgiving for the home and family they now had.
All pitched into the food. It was excellent. Rose finally came out of her apartment with the last meat contribution, and all applauded. They knew she would provide an excellent dinner, she always did. Yolanda flitted by, making sure everyone had met his or her table mates, and they had enough food.
After dinner, everyone stayed at his or her table, enjoying the coffee or iced tea, and talking with the neighbors. Rose asked for some help and several men followed her into her apartment. Soon her piano rolled out, she sat down, and declared, "It's always time for some more singing. Name your favorite Christmas carol." People called out the names and the singing began.
After a while, the singing slacked off. Yolanda called out, "Don't leave these desserts uneaten," and people chose their favorites, took some more beverages, and settled down to do justice to their choices. "Don't forget to take your contribution home. Thank you all for coming." Another round of applause, the piano was rolled back into the apartment, and some of the guests started to leave.
Henry asked Charlie, "Do you have to go some place? Would you like to come back to my apartment?" Charlie had no place to go, and wanted to keep the pleasure of Henry's company. He took his celery plate, which was now empty, and followed Henry to his apartment down the hall.
"Would you like some more coffee, a soda, water?" Henry asked Charlie.
Charlie said he was full, almost stuffed. Instead, he wanted to get to know Henry. So, Henry took his empty plate, put it on the kitchen table, then led Charlie to the sofa in the living room. They sat, and Henry moved close to Charlie, taking his hand, and saying, "Well, I was born, which you can surmise from my presence here. I grew up in a happy family, but we kept our secrets to ourselves. When I finished high school, there was no money for college, so I went to work in a warehouse, tossing around heavy boxes. I soon developed a very muscular body, not a gym body, just well-developed muscles for work.
"I met a man at the warehouse who was a supervisor, about ten years older than I. I knew I was gay, and he had spread the word at work that he was also. One day, when we had been working on some project, he asked if I liked to swim. I said, `Yes. Very much."
"His name was Al. Al invited me to go swimming at the lake west of town. I immediately accepted, and we arranged to meet, then go to the lake on our day off. He told me to just bring my swim suit and a towel. He would bring the sun screen.
"So, we met, talked a lot about ourselves and our hopes. He was the first person to whom I confessed I am gay, or thought I was." Charlie was tired of trying to look at Henry without staring, so he rested his head on Henry's shoulder. Henry put his arm around Charlie and continued to talk.
Henry told how they had begun to swim at the lake whenever they could get together. Al had a car, so that solved transportation. Henry's parents somehow learned he was gay, and kicked him out of their home, though they had needed his rent and food money to make ends meet. Al invited Henry to live with him, which Henry quickly accepted.
"One night," Henry continued, "Al asked me what I'd like to do with my life. I told him I had always wanted to teach, but I couldn't afford to go to college. He told me about scholarships and grants available to poor students. Then he encouraged me to apply for as many as I could, and we would find a way to pay my other expenses. What he had in mind was to support me while I went to college, and for me to find part-time work to pay my other expenses. I did, and six years later I had my teaching certificate. The first school system I applied to for work accepted me. I taught there until I retired. Al was older. He retired before I did. We planned a Summer trip to Europe, my first. He had not been feeling well for a while, and finally agreed to go to a doctor. The doctor told him his body was just giving out, bad heart, bad lungs from smoking cigarettes, bad pancreas from too many sweets which made him a diabetic.
"Al gave up then. I tried to help him adopt a healthy life style, but it was too late for him. The body was shot. He went down hill rapidly. He died before we could make that trip. Shortly thereafter, I retired and moved into this building in the United Seniors complex. I've never been sorry a day since I moved in."
Henry paused for the first time, and said, "Well, there's my autobiography, first time I ever told it all to anyone. Now, tell me about you." Charlie sat up, looked Henry in the eye, and said,
"I've not had a very interesting life. I grew up an only child. My parents tried, but they didn't know much about loving me. They taught me to keep my room clean, keep my shoes shined, hair brushed, and neatly, modestly dressed. Dad was a bookkeeper, Mom a housewife. There was always plenty of food on the table. My grandparents lived on the other side of the country, so I seldom saw them, nor did I have much contact with my sole uncle and my aunt. I believe I was the unplanned-for child who surprised a middle-aged couple. I was cared for, but there wasn't much demonstrated love.
"My parents liked to watch television for the news, have dinner, then watch some more television. They didn't talk much to one another, or to me. After high school I got a job in a department store. I worked there all my working life. I met Ralph there about the time my parents died. We got together and stayed together until he died. See, I really am very uninteresting."
Henry had been leaning against Charlie while he spoke. Charlie was aware that Henry had yawned a few times, apologized, then closed his eyes. As Charlie finished, Henry snored. He was sound asleep. `I didn't know I was that uninteresting,' thought Charlie.
With the snore, Henry awoke, and apologized, "Gee. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude. I'm really awfully tired. I didn't get to sleep until almost 2 a.m. this morning, and awoke at my usual 6 a.m."
"Here, let me help you up. You need a nap, and I probably will want one, too," Charlie added. "Thanks for introducing me to the Seniors United family, to taking me to church, and for being so kind to me. I'll take my plate and go home. You can have your nap. I will keep in touch." Charlie returned to his apartment, put the plate on the kitchen counter to be washed, then went to his bedroom, stripped down to his underwear, laid down on top of the covers and pulled a quilt over his body. It was a good time for a nap. In seconds he was asleep.
TO THE READER;
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