Copyright Notice Reminder This story is copyright by the author and the author retains all rights. Expressly prohibited is the posting of the story to any sites not approved by the author or charging for the story in any manner. Single copies may be downloaded and printed for personal use provided the story remains unchanged. Such a good notice I had to plagiarise it.
If you shouldn't be reading stories like this one, don't get caught The non-standard thing about this story is that it's going to be about a trio type love story, sex will not occur in this chapter. That should finally happen in chapter 4. You're too late to decide the physical attributes of one of the characters. I've also decided to be vague about the details of the characters, I will not be specific about their parts, so please use your own imagination for that. The story is set in the early 80's and depending on which way the readers respond to the tale, the characters may or may not have std issues. This is the first time that I've written a story that I want others to read, it is complete and utter fiction, although some of the events could occur, I have no proof that any of them actually did. Any hockey heroes mentioned are there for the flavour of the tale and as far as I know have rarely if ever had sex. The number characters signify a change of viewpoint. Oh, I think it would be a very good idea to publically thank my editor; mom.
I would also like to thank nifty for letting me post stories even though I don't have the coins to support this wonderful website. If you're reading and not paying, how about doing what I do and write a story, eh?
Hmmm, maybe I should have finished the tale after seeing the Lord of the Rings, and posted the thing tomorrow. Live and learn, next time I'll finish the chapter properly before submitting. Oh, I've also been spelling Gwin wrong, proper spelling is Gwyn. Oops, should have known better; I took the name from the title of a book right in front of me.
Part 3 Virgil comes out.
"Why did you have to take a shower" I asked.
The laughter of my uncles and parents turned to screams as the car fishtailed on a patch of black ice.
Reacting well to the fishtailing car, my father took his foot off the gas, didn't hit the brakes and turned the wheel in the direction of the spin. We slowed down a bit, but hey, every true- northerner knows that as long as you don't hit something solid there's not too much to worry about when you lose control of your vehicle on snow or ice. My uncles screaming did get to me though, "Shit! How on earth can you scream like a girl! Neither of you act gay until you start to yell like that, goddamnit! I'm gay and I don't scream like that, so why do you!" Realising what I said I had the distinct sensation that time had stopped. I can still see the look on the faces of my uncles as they stared at me; mother had turned her head and was looking at me as if she were seeing me for the first time.
My father, eyes still on the road, seemed more in control than the others and asked mother "Eleanor, are you going to let Virgil get away with taking the Lord's name in vain in the car?"
"No, I am not. Virgil you will pray to Jesus and ask his forgiveness for taking his father's name in vain. The only place on earth that I will tolerate the language which came out of your mouth is on a hockey rink. When we get home you're going to have your mouth washed out, and you'll be writing a letter to your uncles apologising for calling them females. Don't you dare think I haven't noticed that you three are men!"
As I bowed my head in prayer I had a hard time concentrating on what I was supposed to be praying about. I realised that I'd fucked up by swearing in front of my parents, using the god curse had never been popular with mother, calling my uncles girly had never been tolerated when I had been growing up. Thinking hard I couldn't remember a time in my home where anyone, family or guests had been able to make anti-gay remarks. What was up with that? Deciding that I couldn't be in much more trouble I decided to ask my parents why my grandparents were disappointed with uncle Rob.
To my surprise it was uncle Jeb who spoke up "Virgil, you should know better than to listen to half a conversation and think you're getting an understanding of how others think. Your grandparents disappointment was not with the love that your uncle and I share, it was that it had taken so long for the descendants of our families to come to terms with our heritage. Your great- great-grandmother on your mother's side was born in 1859, she was born on the farm owned by my great-great-grandfather. I was the first member of my family to appreciate that all we lost during the War Between the States was property, what your ancestors gained during that time was more valuable than all of the property on this planet; the right to be free human beings. In spite of all of the troubles your uncle and I've had over the years with employers and my getting kicked out of college, I believe that the love we share has helped to heal centuries of hatred and injustice."
The rest of the ride home was subdued, the adults had a nice safe discussion about the weather, life in New Orleans, and football. I was good and didn't express my opinion of that game. We arrived back in our neighbourhood and parked in the garage out back. My uncles ran for the house and I was volunteered to plug in the car and take their bags into the house. Lucky for me by the time we got home mother had forgotten about washing my mouth out. For some reason or another she always threatened to wash our mouths but never carried out that particular threat. I did write a letter of apology for my uncles, they had always been there for me and my siblings and after all we did have something else in common. By the time my letter was done I was able to have a good talk with my uncles about their relationship and what they thought about how a gay man could best live his life. They asked me about any crushes that I had and I confessed that I was in love with my best and oldest friends. They told me that there was no way I could realise my dream of dating both guys, they pointed out the problems that the straight community had with bigamy and that the most stable relationships were between two people. For some reason they advised me not to go home with people who were more than 3 years older or 2 years younger than I was, I assured them that at this time there were only two people who I thought to go out with and they were two days older and two days younger than I was. I was surprised to hear that my parents had told them that they had suspected that I was gay like they were. Apparently that conversation took place two years ago when father was telling Uncle Rob that raising me was like growing up with him again. Since that time I've never heard another coming- out story quite like the one that I had. I guess that I really am a special kind of man. Even though my coming-out was far less than traumatic, I didn't want to talk to my parents about this issue. I've never met someone who enjoys or wants to talk to their parents about their love lives. Besides there were far more pressing matters to take care of this Saturday Night. The Oilers were playing the Flames tonight on Hockey Night in Canada, and I wanted to watch the game at Gwin's house. Swearing that I'd be home right after the game and after apologising profusely for not wanting to spend even a short time with my family after they had travelled so far to see me, I was allowed to watch the game with Gwin and Ivan. I wasn't sure but I also got the idea that my parents knew that there was no way that I was going to live my life without playing hockey, and I needed to talk to Gwyn and Ivan about how we were going to get back onto the Bulldog's team roster.
After dinner I grabbed my jean jacket and walked across the street to Gwyn's home. Without doubt there is something wrong with teenagers in Canada, we have long had a habit of not dressing for the weather. I don't know exactly why we do it; whether it's to annoy our parents, prove our own innate toughness; or that standard geezerspeak about how teens think we're going to live forever and believe that nothing could possibly kill us: I think the real reason is that it's the only way for a teen to really wake up in the morning. But the end result is the same, walking across the street in -30C has a number of effects on the human body. As long as you're only outside for a one or two minutes you'll be fine, if you're out for more than five, frostbite starts to set in. By the time I'd reached Gwyn's, my balls were hiding in my chest, and I was hung like a flea. As usual the door was open, I walked in kicked off my shoes and shouted out my hello to the family.
As I made my way to the basement I thought about the first time my uncles visited us, and their amazement that we'd leave our doors open and automatically take our shoes off when coming into anyone's home. Up here it's expected that you'll take your shoes off, it's not just a Japanese tradition, but we do it for different reasons that than the Japanese; snow, dirty snow and mud are much easier to clean up if the crap is confined to a 3X4' area near the doors. We leave the doors unlocked when we're home because in an arctic environment you need to think about the survival of your neighbours, as you never know when you might need to get shelter from the cold.
I asked Gwyn how he was doing when I got downstairs to their TV room, which is what they called the mess in the children's room. It was a comfortable little space, they had two TV's in the room that were setup between two Ikea bookcases, a somewhat battered couch was between two of those highbacked chairs and a nice coffee table that had removable glass panes set in the wood. One of the tubes was a nice colour set that we used to watch anything but hockey, the other was an antique black and white set from the dark ages that we only used to watch Hockey Night in Canada.
"I could be better" said Gwyn "Having a milkshake for breakfast was cool, but lunch was a nightmare. My parents have bought baby food for me to eat. It's no wonder babies spitup so much, I've don't remember ever having tasted such disgusting crap. I think I'm going to be eating a lot of soup for the next little while, unfortunately the soup has to go thru a blender before I can get it past my teeth. I wish I was the guy who had the cool duelling scar. How'd your parents react to this?"
"They want me to give up hockey, what's worse is that the coach called on Saturday morning and told me I was off the team. Damned wuss thought it was unsportsmanlike for Ivan and me to fight Jeffy at the same time."
"Shit, that's exactly how my own parental units reacted, overreacted I should say. I haven't said a word to them since they suggested that I start playing soccer or waterpolo, as if I'm going to start playing some wussy sport like them. They think I'm going to get hit in the mouth again. It was a freak accident, it'll never happen again and they know it. I need the speed of the ice, man, hockey is the only sport where you can slam assholes into the boards, and have great thoughts about whacking the other team's players with your stick."
We carried on our talk about how hard done by we were, having parents who just didn't understand hockey. But at the same time I was thinking about what my uncles had said about young gay men and how to tell if a guy was gay. I tried to remember any time that Gwyn or Ivan had dated a girl, talked about dating a girl or even about a girl that they thought was hot. Thinking about it, I realised that the only time the topic of girls ever came up was when one of our other friends started the conversation. I dismissed the thoughts as being wishful thinking on my part, the world wasn't kind enough for both of my friends to be gay as well as me.
Ivan thundered down the stairs just as the theme music for Hockey Night started to play. He had a strange look on his face and told us that his parents didn't know about the fight, and asked if we'd heard about what happened to our coach on Saturday afternoon. Apparently, after calling my house our coach had had a heart attack and had died before he could file the paperwork for Ivan and me to be officially off the team. I was surprised and felt bad that the coach was gone, but callously thought that that meant that now we'd only have to convince Gwyn and my parents to continue to play hockey. Couldn't be that difficult could it?
Gwyn's parents were, in my opinion, the coolest parents of our little gang. All of our parents had known each other for years and they worked together for the University of Alberta. Gwyn's dad taught philosophy and his mom French; my father taught Physics and mom Chemistry; Ivan's parents taught Russian as well as Ukranian, and his mom taught religious studies. Not only were we allowed to have two beers every period (that's six beers for every game, guys) we also were allowed to smoke pot - for medicinal reasons of course - in the basement. My parents weren't too pleased about me smoking weed, but were adamant that I was only to smoke at Gwyn's home, and that if ever I touched something other than weed I'd regret that error for years afterwards. Gwyn's dad had taken care of the drug talk with us and we agreed that, when used in moderation, pot wasn't a bad drug; we also learned why cocain, heroin and synthetic drugs were not drugs that should be used. Nancy Reagan said "just say no." Our parents thought it was a better idea for the kids "just to know". Our parents were right, none of us drink to get drunk, nor have we ever used tobacco or other highly addictive drugs.
The game went well, the Flames were properly crushed by the efforts of Gretzky et al. Don Cherry was in fine form in disrespecting European and other players as not really being in the same league as the Canadian players. The three of us continued our tradition of a group hug after every goal scored by the Oilers, and after every save by our goalie, Grant Fuhr. There was a new addition to our tradition that I think I enjoyed too much, after the first goal by Gretz, Ivan banged our heads together and we shared our second lip to lip kiss. As our tongues duelled I felt a surge of energy flow between Ivan Gwyn and myself, at that moment I knew that I was without any doubt a gay boy, our kiss was interrupted only when the old black and white set finally gave up the ghost, let out a loud sparking bang and started to smoke. I quickly unplugged the old set and grabbed the fire extinguisher, Ivan opened the basement windows to clear the smoke and turned on the colour tv. Gwyn suggested that we do this for every one of our goals and we agreed that it would be a most excellent way of showing team loyalty.
Strange thoughts swirled in my head as I ran home that night. Gotta love Alberta weather; during the game a cold front had come in and the temp went down to -38C. As usual the temp wasn't the really bad part of the night, it was the wind that froze my face in less than 30 seconds.
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Couldn't resist throwing in a Wizard of Oz moment, hope no one's upset by that.