This is a continuation of a fictional account of my mission experience in France and Belgium during the early 1970s. Though many of the circumstances and events are true, it is still a fictional way for me to portray what I would have liked to have happened.
Gary ----------------- Part XVIII - This Too Shall Pass
Later in the afternoon, we quickly dressed and went to the Post Office to place a call to the Mission Home and tell the President part of our plan. Elder M. talked to him alone in the phone booth. I could see through the window as Elder M. explained his feelings and nodded several times. He took out some paper and pen and wrote down some details on a piece of paper. I watched him as deep inside a small fissure began in my soul, the beginnings of a hole that would never be filled. I began to realize that my beloved friend would soon be leaving and we would be separated by more than time and space. He would be in another world, living among the living. I shall be in the cocoon of missionary life. So much could happen. It began to seem like the chances of our plan actually working out were small. The fissure became more noticeable. I tried to shake it off but could only cover it up as Elder M. exited the phone booth excited about what the President said.
"President Brown anticipated that I would be going home so he had the mission secretary make reservations for me on a flight from Brussels to New York tomorrow afternoon at 1:16pm." Elder M. was excitedly reading from his notes. "Then I'll catch another plane that will go to Denver then another to Albuquerque where my uncle will pick me up for the drive to Las Cruces. Wow, just think. By this time tomorrow I'll be over the Atlantic."
I really tried to keep my spirits up. The man I loved so much was excited and I didn't want to spoil it for him in any way. For 24 hours, I could be the man he wanted me to be.
"Let's go to the Municipal Baths and get cleaned up," I suggested. "We're sort of covered with...you know what!" I smiled and winked.
"Great idea!" And the two of us went back to the apartment to get clean clothing and went down to the baths. We got our normal family bathing area and filled up the soaking tub one last time. We removed our clothing and stood looking at each other. I loved looking at his body. From the red hair on the top to the tufts of red hair on his chest and torso to his red pubes, he was a gorgeous man. I loved to see his manly member when it was soft and just resting on his balls. His legs were covered in hair. There wasn't a thing I would change about him. I stood there looking at him and he at me. We slowly approached each other and reached out the hold each other's hand as we brought our bodies together again. With each step, our cocks grew as if seeking the other cock in some kind of weird cock fantasy. When we finally reached full body contact, our lips parted and we kissed softly at first then with masculine passion as we stood there naked.
We stepped into the soaking tub but instead of sitting at opposite ends of the tub, today we sat at the same end. My back was up against the enameled end of the tub. Elder M. stepped in front of me and sat down leaning back against my chest. I put my arms around him and just held him tight. We didn't talk. We only held on. We knew this would be the last time we'd be able to do this. If time would only slow down just this once.
"Elder," I asked with some trepidation. "What are your feelings about the death of your Dad and your brothers?" I thought it was time for the two of us to talk about the tragedy of the day before.
Elder M. said nothing for a few minutes. I could tell tears had come to his eyes. His body had tensed up and his breathing got irregular. Forcing himself to talk, Elder M. haltingly said, "I loved my Dad so much. He was always there for me. He was a true man without pretense. My Mom's health wasn't always the best and he was there to help her with the house and us kids." Elder M. tried to keep from breaking into tears again. He brought my arms even closer around his body. "He didn't really want me to come on a mission. When I last saw him at the airport, he took me aside and said, 'Son, I'm not sure I'll still be here when you return...'" Elder M. began to weep again but continued. "'But I want you to know... That I love you and I'm ... Proud... Of you.' Then he kissed me and held me close." Elder M. couldn't continue. I held him close and kissed his neck and cheeks. He choked out the next sentence. "It's as though..he...realized...he would... be .. dead." What seemed like a primal moan escaped from my friend. He was in great pain. I tried to comfort him as he sobbed. I turned him around to face me, had him sit on my thighs and brought him into my arms.
"Go on, cry. You're allowed. Cry, my love and let those tears begin your healing."
I, too, was crying with all the empathy I could find. But I also cried because I realized I may never hold my lover like this again. I didn't want to let him go but I knew I must. The two of us were a bit of a mess there in the soaking tub. We had spent so many P Days playing around in this tub, laughing and joking. And now, to have the deepest of human emotions play out in the tub... The irony was nearly too much.
We finally stood up and made our way to the shower to rinse off. Elder M. wasn't able to do much. I washed his body and his hair as he stood there in mourning. I washed his genitals with love and desire. I rinsed him off. After washing myself, the two of us stood there under the spray of the hot water just holding on to each other.
Soon, our time was up and we had to leave. I suggested we stop by Paul's house and see if he was home. He would be disappointed to know Elder M. was leaving. We walked down the river a bit and knocked on his old, dilapidated door. No answer came forth. I left a note for him to come over to our apartment later as we had some important news for him. Then we left to go home. We got some groceries on the way and some frites for dinner. Home provided a refuge from an uncaring and sterile world.
Elder Millett had to catch a 7:30am train to Brussels in order to provide time to be checked out of the mission and then taken to the Brussels airport for the flight to New York. That meant we needed to leave at 6:00am for the train station in Liege. It was now nearly 6:00pm the night before. So, Elder M. dragged out his suitcases and put them on his bed and started to go through his stuff. He couldn't take it all home because of weight restrictions. We had fun going through each item and deciding whether it would go to the trash, Paul, me or New Mexico.
He started a pile for Paul. He put all the white shirts in it. Elder M. said he never wanted to wear one again! He left Paul his baseball mitt and Frisbees. Finally, he put his French copies of Jesus the Christ and Articles of Faith on Paul's pile I hoped they would help him.
For me, I got his towels, a couple pairs of his garments (the ones without holes), the last of his toothpaste and shampoo, his recipe book, his alarm clock and some pictures of his New Mexico home and family.
After all was finally sorted and packed, he sat me down and took off his CTR ring. He offered it to me saying with a great deal of dignity, "I want you to have this. My Dad gave it to me when I received the Aaronic Priesthood. I want you to wear it to remind you of me. From now on, the CTR doesn't mean Choose The Right. It means Companion TRue which is what you have been for me." He put the CTR ring on my little finger on my right hand then kissed me.
"I guess this means we're engaged!" I joked. We both fell back on the bed in a fit of laughter. If the President could only see us now!
Around 8:00pm, Paul knocked on the door and we let him in. It didn't take but a few seconds for him to realize someone was leaving. He was immediately devastated. I told him about Elder M.'s Dad and brothers and, in true Greek fashion, he went over and wept on Elder M.'s shoulder. The three of us gathered in a group hug and alternately wept and laughed. Paul had a unique ability to laugh and cry at the same time. I explained to Paul that I would still be here in Seraing and would still be his friend. I told him that Elder M. and I would reunite in New Mexico in 14 months and he would be invited to come visit us there. That really got Paul going. He was really excited about a plane trip all the way to the American Southwest. For the next hour, we talked about how we met and the night we spent together and our soaking tub experience and the baptism... For the short amount of time we had known Paul, a lot had happened.
Finally, it was time for Paul to leave. He grabbed a hold of Elder M. and brought him close to his body and held him for several minutes. The two of them shed some tears. Then Paul said, "Elder Millett, I shall always remember you. You are my brother for eternity. I love you as my brother. I am so sorry for your tragedy. I hope I can replace at least one of your brothers in your heart so you will not be alone. Please, don't forget me for I shall never forget you." He kissed Elder M. on the lips then on each cheek and embraced him for one last time. Then he turned with his pile of things from Elder M. and left.
Somehow the room really emptied when Paul left. He had a way of occupying a lot of space. It was getting late. Neither Elder M. nor I wanted the evening to end. We left his suitcases on his bed and got mine ready for sleeping. After washing up and using the water closet, we turned off all the lights. Moonlight came in through the window and furnished a romantic, even nostalgic, aura for our last night together. We walked up to each other and kissed. We removed each other's clothes very slowly. The blueness of the light gave an other-worldly feel to our movements. Slowly, we brought the shoulders of our garments down over our arms and then dropped the garments to the floor. Once again, we stood before each other naked and in love. I remembered the first morning when I saw him nude. Little did I know that I would be standing here penis to penis, touching his face and his arms, rubbing his nipples, staring at his eyes, loving him. We embraced then fell onto the bed.
I am unable to adequately describe the feelings Elder M. and I experienced during that last night. We did not sleep. We talked a lot. We kissed each other's body. We did all we could to memorize everything about the other as we would need to remember it for just over a year. We talked about our deepest secrets, exposing our thoughts in ways we never could before. Elder M. told me about how he had sexually experimented with a couple of guys before his mission but knew he shouldn't go any further. He told me how he and his brothers would sexually play with each other ever since he was old enough to remember. Even his Dad joined them in jacking off when they skinny dipped. We both thought he was born to recognize his love when I arrived in his life.
I told him how my Father would sexually abuse me from an early age by playing with my boy dick. He would sometimes wrestle me in the living room while my mother read the paper and then when he decided he had enough, he would remove my pants and underwear and show my mother my boy dick and seed. They would both laugh. That laughter at my genitals rang throughout my life, I told Elder M. It emasculated me and I still felt the cutting edge of their carelessness.
I told my love how I was molested by older boys in the neighborhood and how, after learning it would get me the attention of older boys, I would seek more by showing my boyhood and asking for them to rape me.
I let Elder M. know how my parents would drink and fight and how I would run from the house seeking shelter with those same boys from the parental wars. I confessed to Elder M. that I had sexually abused myself with other boys since I was 12 and didn't really quit until my mission. I felt shame in telling him that I wasn't a pure man for him.
Elder M. listened to my needful expression. "Remember," he said, "when Paul told us about his past and I talked to him about forgiveness. It looks like you need that talk as well. First, no matter what you have done in the past, I forgive you. To me you are clean and pure." I began to cry and he continued. "Second, all this stuff the Church teaches about sin and commandments, forget it. My Dad was right when he taught me that we need only confess our feelings and desires to our Heavenly Father and His love is sufficient for us all. Don't fear your past. You're a child of God and He loves you. I love you. That is all you shall ever need."
My healing began that night.
The morning came to soon. We quickly got dressed and finished Elder M.'s packing. We had our final companion prayer. I was numb. The fissure that began to open last night was now ripping apart my heart. At least Elder M. had the excitement of going home. I was told to return and wait at the apartment until my new companion was brought by the Liege Zone Leader. We left the apartment and caught a bus to the Gare Routier next to the train station in Liege. Elder M. went over and bought his ticket to Brussels. The train was due to leave in 10 minutes. We just chatted and then it was time to leave. Here we were in a public place unable to express the all-encompassing love we shared with anything more than a touch of the hand. It was time to pretend bravely that friendship alone is what we shared. The world musn't know our incredible desire to be with each other. Elder M. extended his hand. I reached to shake it. We stared in each other's eyes for a long time. Then I brought him forward
and I put my arms around him and kissed his cheek, and whispered "I love you" then turned around and walked away.
I have no idea what steely resolve caused me not to look back but to go straight out the door and down the street. I should have taken a bus back but I wanted to walk. I wanted to somehow exorcise the demons inside from me. I wanted somehow to forget Elder M. and yet I didn't want to forget but to remember. I began to explore the new fracture that had been ripped in my body, the fissure caused by Elder M.'s departure.
I followed the train tracks down to the Meuse River then followed the river in the direction of Seraing 15 kilometers away. It was a beautiful day in June. A perfect time to be crushed.
As I walked, I put my hand in my pocket and found a paper that I pulled out. It was a handwritten note from Elder M. How long had that been there? My heart started to pound and I found a quiet bench overlooking the peaceful river and opened the paper and read:
Elder Roark,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I suspect you'll be walking home, unable to abide the presence of other people. I'll be the same. My trip home, though exciting in many respects, is very sad because of what I'll find at home but also because I know you will be here where I was, doing the things we did, breathing our air and sleeping in our bed. Though we cannot be together physically, my thoughts will always be with you. There will not a moment pass by when I will not remember my True Companion in Seraing. You are everything to me. I leave with my things but I leave behind the only thing I want and that's you. I know you will cry as you read this. I'm crying as I write it. But our tears in many ways will join and, like the Meuse, flow towards the time we will be together forever.
I love you.
Elder M.
He was right. I was crying. Unashamedly weeping as the world passed me by. I had stepped out of Time for a brief moment in order to see the Meuse flowing below me and my tears joining with her steely waters, flowing to join the tears of all other humans who learn to suffer and cry with exquisite pain.
I felt his CTR ring on my right little finger. Companion True. Yes, indeed. Elder M. is.
I returned to the moment and set out for Seraing alone but not alone.