Date: Mon, 5 Jan 2004 03:39:59 -0500 (EST)
From: "Publishing@TomCup.com" <publishing@tomcup.com>
Subject: Airport Voyeur by Adam Bricker Chapter 6 - A/Y, AF

Copyright 2000-2004 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All
rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without
written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive,
Florissant, CO 80816

This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If
this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This
material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters,
locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination
or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

**********************************************************************
What's New at TomCup.com?

My Symon (Revised) by Rick Lawton Chapter 3: Added 01/05*
Lion of Bolognia by Tom Cup: Lion's Heart Chapter 10: Added 01/04*
Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker Chapter 3: Added 01/04*
Words Are Not Necessary by Adam Bricker: Chapter 2 Added 12/30*
The Confederados by Richard Dean: Chapter 3 Added 12/30*
The Raptors by Richard Dean Chapter 12: Added 12/21
Age Before Beauty by Tom Cup Chapter 7: Added 12/13
Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker: Chapter 2: Added 12/10*
The Innocents: Paulo and Beto by Richard Dean Part 4 Chapter 16: Added 12/9
Lion of Bolognia by Tom Cup: Lion's Heart Chapter 8: Added 12/05*
KOABoy by Tom Cup Chapter 10: Added 12/04
Words Are Not Necessary by Adam Bricker Chapter 1: Added 12/03*
The Confederados by Richard Dean Chapter 2: Added 12/03*
Airport Voyeur Part 2 by Adam Bricker: Chapter 1: Added 11/29*

*TomCup.com now offers an Executive Club membership!

** Tom Cup's "Of Our Teenage Years" is scheduled for publication and
release in paperback in the Spring of 2004. Check it out at
http://www.tomcup.com!

**********************************************************************

The Paratwa Partnership, Inc. is a publication and marketing agency and is
not responsible for the content of the Tom Cup Library, TomCup.com or its
affiliate sites, or stories written by Mr. Cup or his associates.

**********************************************************************
Airport Voyeur
By Adam P. Bricker
adambrick@tomcup.com

Chapter Six

I glanced out of the window.  Most of the ground was brown and dry.  I
could see a river running through the state.

I sat with my notes in my lap.  They reminded me not so much of the work I
had done, or of the client I had worked with, but of Fernando, Philippe and
Paulo.  Three guys that had accepted me, loved me, and changed my life.

"Are you okay, sir?" asked my seatmate.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine." I said.

"You're crying.  I was concerned that you were okay."

"I'm sorry I didn't know I was crying.  It's been a very intense few days.
I'm fine, really I'm fine." I told him.

"If there's anything I can do sir, just let me know."

"Well, to start with quit calling me `sir.'  My name's Adam Bricker.  Just
Adam is fine."

"I'm Sebastian Hart.  Do you live in McAllen?" he said.

"No I was just there working with a client.  Now I'm going to Denver.  What
about you?  Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to school.  My family lives in Laredo, but it was cheaper
to fly out of McAllen on this trip. What sort of business do you do, Adam?"

"I'm a consultant.  I try and help companies make money, but sometimes it
includes more than just financial recommendations to help them achieve
that.  Where are you going to school?"

"No, I don't go to school, I teach school.  I'm teaching in Beaumont Texas;
sixth and seventh grade science is my field.  197 young minds to develop in
a subject they could care less about at this age.  They're more concerned
with music, clothes and dancing than science, math and English."

"Do you have any special kids in your classes?"  I asked. "Ones that
challenge you and you really want to get through to?"

"Yeah, this year I've got three.  Fred the one in the seventh grade, and
Paul and Michael are in the sixth grade.  The three are brothers.  The two
younger ones are twins.  Fred reminds me of myself when I was his age."

"What exactly reminds you of yourself in Fred?"

"Well, he's a loner.  Their father works in a factory on second shift and
they seldom see him, from what I can tell.  They are in the after-school
program, but they still get into trouble and don't seem to direction in
their lives.  I know it is early for them, and they're young, but in their
neighborhood, if they don't get it soon, they'll be lost."

"What are the similar experiences in your life?" I asked.  I watched him
pause and reflect.  He was organizing his answer.  This was someone that
was very deliberate, or cautious about what he said.

"My father died when I was nine.  Mom didn't get remarried right away and
there wasn't an adult man around that much for the next four or five years.
By the time she did get remarried, I'd pretty well set my direction.  We
lived in a better neighborhood, and I had more advantages than these kids."

"Sebastian, are you saying that you felt alone when you were a kid?" I
asked.

"Yeah, I guess that's really what I'm saying.  I figured out how to put my
life together and got through high school and then into college.  I'm not
sure how these kids will do it."

"I grew up with two parents all my life, I said, "They're still alive and
retired in Arizona, but what you're describing is the way I felt most of my
life.  I always remember having friends but I never felt like anyone
really, really understood me..  How do you think you can get through to
these three boys?"

"I'm still trying to get their interest.  They are very shy and don't pay
attention to much of anyone outside of themselves.  In school they are very
poor performers.  They have very poorly developed social skills.  Or to put
it mildly they are picked on by almost everyone.  Their self-confidence is
almost non-existent.  They don't talk to anyone outside their family.  I
may just be beating my head against a brick wall, but I'm going to keep on
trying."

"Sebastian, I'm not a parent but I think what you're describing is just
their fear of getting hurt by opening up to you or anyone. You've got to
start small.  Maybe you should give them very small personal assignments to
do each night and have them report directly to you each day.  Nothing big
or complex but small things that have consistency and they build up a
confidence not in you but in the consistency.  Then you can use that time
each day to praise them for what they have done.  That might break the ice
for you with them."

"Sir, ^Å I mean Adam, that's a great idea.  I know exactly how I can do
that with them.  Thank you."

"Maybe you just needed a push or an outside catalyst to get you started," I
said, "You might even try adding something like a candy bar or some treat
eventually when you've built up the frequency, but that might be best with
these boys if it was like once a week.  I wish I could take credit for this
idea from Pavlov and Skinner."

"I remember behavior modification from Psychology," Sebastian said,
smiling, "Once you've established the positive behaviors that you're
looking for then you slowly pull back on the reinforcements and replace
them with personal recognition and self-confidence. Maybe I should have
paid more attention or varied my curriculum.  When I was going through
school I focused more on my math and science courses so that I would have a
real strong and saleable specialty," Sebastian said.  "How did you learn
all this?  It doesn't sound like financial consulting to me."

"I wasn't always a financial consultant.  My second degree was in social
work, and now I'm amazed at how frequently I really end up using it with my
clients."

We talked on for the next hour until the steward announced that we were
getting ready to land in Houston.

Sebastian's plane was leaving from the commuter terminal and I was going to
be over in the main terminal.  As we chatted we found that our layovers
were a couple hours.

"Sebastian, after I check for some friends if you're still around maybe we
can meet for a drink," I said.  He was a nice guy, I could find
conversation pleasant and it was going to be a long wait to the next leg of
my trip.  We reconnoitered a location with a bar and agreed to meet back
there; I was still curious as to what happened to Fernando and his boys.


			*** *** *** *** *** ***


"What can I get for you gentlemen?" the waiter asked.

"Rusty Nail for me, Sebastian what about you?" I asked.

"Whatever ale or beer you have on tap," he said.

"Guinness or Sam Adams?" the waiter said.

"Guinness, I guess, thanks," said Sebastian.  And his eyes stayed on the
waiter as he left.  I didn't miss that but we barely knew each other and I
didn't want to jump to conclusions with a new acquaintance.

"Well what did you find about your friends?" Sebastian asked.

"I checked with the Continental Airline agent down the concourse.  She said
they never made any flight out of McAllen, TX.  At first she wasn't going
to tell me anything.  She said that security and confidentiality required
that she not disclose other passenger's actions.  I explained that I had
checked in with them and when she checked the booking process she noticed
our names listed in sequence and that we had changed seats to be together,
so she eventually relented.  Airlines may have more red tape than the
federal government.  I don't know what else I can do.  I don't have any
contact numbers for them here in the United States.  Once they get back to
Seville, Spain I could contact them but I'm still worried about them."

"It's great to hear someone that cares about other people.  In today's
world it's so much focused on the self that others get ignored.  I'm sure
that something will work out.  If you're concerned about them, they must be
special people."

"I've never met anyone like the three of them.  Their names are Fernando,
Philippe and Paulo; they just changed my life in the last three days.  It
was fun and exciting.  Fernando was probably the serious one of the three,
but then he was the father.  He was so wise, patient and yet spoke directly
to me about some of the deepest issues of my life."

I played with the salt and pepper shakers.  Moved them around, straightened
up the menus, and repositioned them, while I was thinking about the last
three days.  How do you meet someone who so quickly changes your life?  I
looked up and realized that Sebastian was watching me, and realized that I
had quit speaking some time ago.

"Sorry, I got lost in thinking about the last week," I said smiling
faintly, "Philippe was a boy of eleven who is going to make an impression
when he reaches manhood.  He has poise, stature and confidence.  He's
really mature for eleven.  He seemed to always know when to play and when
to pay attention to what was happening around him."  I exhaled and didn't
know how else to describe these angels in my life.  They had touched me,
had known where I needed to be touched.  It was like they looked into the
stream and even though it was cloudy with silt and no one else could see
the bottom, all three knew exactly what was hidden from sight and reached
their hands in, each one, and pulled out the hidden prize from the stream
bed.  They found my soul and brought me to life.

"And Paulo is an imp," I continued, "He just barges into your room, no
matter what else was going on and he asks the most direct questions.  Most
kids are afraid of adults but this nine-year-old talked as though we were
equals.  He seems to always be underfoot, but never is a bother.  And he
can laugh at anything.  His laugh just make you laugh along with him.  And
yet, like his father and brother he is gentle and understanding."

My throat was getting caught, like someone had put their hands around it
and was choking me.  Only no one was there.  I was getting close to crying
again.  I tried breathing slow breaths: slow exhale, intake.  Breathe.
Even with that, one tear was sliding down my face.  I reached up and
brushed it back.

"Wow, they're really special to you aren't they?  I wish I had someone that
special in my life."

"Tell me about Sebastian outside of the classroom," I said to get the
conversation going and broaden the subject area.  Besides any more
discussion of Fernando and the boys and I'd be blubbering here in the bar.

"Well, I've been teaching for about four years.  I live by myself in an
apartment about six miles from the school.  I run to keep in shape each
morning.  Other than that there's not much to tell."

The waiter returned. "Gentlemen, your drinks," he said placing them before
each of us.  "What else can I do for you?  It's not a real happening place,
but anything I can do, just ask for me.  My names Art, like in Art
Garfunkle or Art Carney for anyone old enough to remember that guy.  Are
you going to have a long layover?"

"Just a couple hours," I said, "We're going to different places but just
had time to sit and talk for a while.  Thanks Art."  He wasn't bad to look
at, but I didn't want to jeopardize the conversation that might happen here
with Sebastian.

Art went back to the bar and then some other customers.  He looked over
once in a while.  Maybe he was interested in someone at this table.  Guess
we'll never know.

"Okay, so beyond running, grading papers, having dinner and teaching; where
do you spend your time on the weekends and for enjoyment?" I asked.  I was
pushing, I was getting personal, but I thought we had enough of a
connection to handle that.

"Well, movies, sometimes I go to the club or local community theaters.  I
don't have a lot of time during the week.  The center of my life seems to
be at school."

I looked at him.  Obviously there was dedication, but there was sadness.  I
took a sip of my drink, glanced up and asked, "Did you really like the
waiter?"

I guess Paulo rubbed off on me.

Sebastian, sort of gulped, and looked up rather embarrassed.  "Was it that
obvious?" he asked.

"Only when you know what to look for, I've lived a lonely life because I
wouldn't let anyone know me that closely.  In the last week, I've accepted
who I am and what I like and don't like.  Success is not as important for
me any more, having love in my life is what is important."  I paused, to
let a long stare pass between us.  "You looked at him like you were
watching the model for Michelangelo's David walking off.  He is cute.  Do
you know him?"

"No, just had a beer here on the way to McAllen last week.  The view wasn't
disappointing.  When we were talking about where to meet, I wanted it to be
here but didn't want to be too obvious."

"Maybe I should leave.  Am I cramping your style?"

"You can't cramp a style that doesn't exist," Sebastian said, "You're the
only one that has ever noticed my interest and I've never told anyone.
It's amazing what people will tell others they fly with but not those they
see everyday."  He took another big swig of Guinness.  He swallowed hard
and looked up.  The first time you admit your not part of the mainstream is
hard on anyone.

I reached across the table and took hold of his hand.  He didn't pull back,
but looked from our hands together and up to my face.  I could tell that
his heart was pounding eight beats to the bar.  We looked at teach other,
reaching into the other's soul.

"Sebastian, I'm not going to be your first in anything except in telling
you I know how you feel and that it's okay.  There are people that care
about you.  Some you know and some you don't yet, but until you find the
others you got someone in me that does care and I'll be available to talk
if you want to."  I squeezed his hand and continued to hold it.  His face
was blushing.  He'd probably never sat in a public restaurant holding hands
with another guy, or more correctly having his hand held.

"I've been afraid of telling anyone for so long.  My parents think I'm the
`All American Boy Next-Door.'  They wouldn't understand if I told them I
was gay.  At work I'd loose my job.  There's no one that would accept me if
they knew."  Sebastian was trembling.  His eyes were brimming with tears
that hadn't fallen yet, and he just hung his head.  The tears dropped.

"Sebastian, I'm here.  I care.  I'm not going to hate you.  I accept you
just the way that you are, and since God doesn't make junk I think that
means that He accepts you too.  So you got two of us on your side.  I wish
I was around you more for support, but I'll give you my email and cell
phone numbers.  You can call me or reach me by email and I'll be there for
you.  I think I know what you're talking about.  I held it in for so many
years I didn't know what was happening when it came out last week.  I'd
accepted it before but never let anyone else know about it.  Like you, I
figured I'd loose my job, family and any acquaintances I had.  I know now
that I've let it out life is not going to be all rosy, but I've accepted an
important part of myself and let other people know that I'm at peace with
that.  I'll never put the genie back in the bottle, but I'm not going to
show everyone the magic, right away.  You'll find that accepting that
someone else knows will give you both!
  peace and pain.  I want to help you with as much peace as I can.  I'll
try and keep the pain away as long as I can."

Sebastian looked up.  "I can't tell anyone else.  I never wanted you to
know.  What am I supposed to do?"

"First, be at peace.  Look inside yourself, and continue being Sebastian.
You're no different today than you were yesterday.  Tomorrow will be no
different than last week at school.  I'm going to Denver and I'm not
telling anyone.  Second, you now have someone to talk to about your
loneliness or what you enjoy without having to protect that portion of your
heart that might accidentally get revealed.  You can tell me anything, ask
me anything and I will give you what I can.  Answers to questions, money,
knowledge and love you can have, just ask what you need and they are
yours."

"How did I get so lucky that I was sitting next to you on the plane?" he
asked.

"I don't think that was luck.  What I'm telling you is what Fernando told
me.  I can't let you continue hurting inside when I know what it feels
like.  Even though we've only just met, I feel I can trust you and I'm
willing to open up to you in anyway that you need.  Life is, or at least
has been, too short to keep fearing what other people say and think.  It is
too short to not know the love that we all need.  It is too short for you
to be afraid to love the kids you teach.  You can't love them, and express
your love, when you're afraid to open up.  When you're always holding back
the part of you that says if they know this, they'll hate me, you withhold
too much for them to see the whole you.  You're beautiful, you care, you
love and you've got to give that love to everyone you meet.  If you need
to, I know the whole story, and I love you.  I don't know you're whole life
story, I haven't seen all the pictures of you on a bicycle and in little
league but I know your heart a!
 nd I love you.  Maybe that will be enough to help you go back and love
Fred, Paul and Michael."

"Wow!" he whispered.  Then louder he said, "I've never met anyone like you.
You get straight to the center of a person and move right in.  Don't get me
wrong, I'm not offended or put off, I'm just amazed.  No one's ever reached
me there, seen my soul and accepted me like this.  You kind of take my
breath away, in an emotional sense.  But you're right, I've been trying to
suppress this all my life.  Back in 5th grade it was just the guys playing
around, but as the guys started dating girls, I wanted to date the guys.  I
knew I just couldn't put that on my parents and I didn't know any guys that
felt like me, so I've kept it inside for years.  Now in less than three
hours you've moved right to the center of my life and I'm just amazed.
I've thought about what the first time someone would find out would be.
Maybe I should say I've had nightmares about it.  I never expected it to be
like this."

Sebastian, turned his hand up, and grabbed my hand that had been holding
his.  He was actually returning the limited embrace.  It must have been a
major step for him.  We just continued gazing into each other's eyes.  I
tried to let him know that I cared for him, and loved him and would be
there in his down times and in his good times.

Finally, our gazed faltered.  I mean we're only human and you've got to
blink eventually.  Well I glanced at my watch; it was time that we both
moved on.  I pulled out my card case from my breast pocket.  I pulled a
business card out, and turned it over on the table and wrote my personal
email address on the back.

"The cell phone number is on the front," I said, "The email for you is on
the back, it's personal and no one else reads it, like they could with the
business account.  I expect to hear from you often and with what's going on
in your life.  You're not imposing on me, I asked for this, you are
special, and I want to share your life.  I want you to share my life,
also."

We stood up, with luggage still stacked in the corner, next to the table.
We stared at each other from an arm's length.  I stepped forward and
grabbed him, one hand behind his neck and the other around his waist.  I
pulled him close and held him tight.  His arms went around my waist.  I
could feel the beat of his heart and then I could hear the quiet whimper as
he started to weep again in my arms.  I just continued to hold him, gently
rubbing the small of his back.

Sebastian pulled back, and held me at arms length.  He looked deep into my
eyes and said, "I've never had anyone love me like this before.  I've never
let anyone this close, and you knew just what I needed.  You're a special
man Adam.  I don't know what I'm going to do from here, but you'll always
be a part of me.  Thank you!"

He pulled me back into an embrace and then very gently turned his head and
kissed me on the cheek.  Then he turned, let of me, grabbed his luggage,
and walked away.  I watched him walk off.  He had made a major step in his
life, I was warmed that I had been chosen to be there for him when it
happened.

Art passed by from cleaning up a table near us, and asked, "Is everything
okay sir?"

"Art, life is glorious and we're all very special, thank you," I said as I
gathered up my luggage and put a tip in his hand.

"That guy was here a week ago and looked very lonely and sad.  Is he going
to be okay now?" queried Art.

"Yes, Art.  Now he's going to be great.  He's been dealing with a lot and
we just reached a break through for him.  He'll be fine.  In fact, I could
almost say that having you as our waiter was just what we needed today,
thank you."

"Well, thank you sir.  Please, stop in again if you're in Houston."

"I will, Art, I will."  With that I walked out to the concourse and started
down to my gate.

It's amazing what things come together in our lives as we continue on the
journey.  I dodged people going toward the luggage pickup and ticket
counters as I moved toward my gate. My being glowed.

As the concourses cross, I saw two kids running across the direction I was
going.  One was blond and the other had black hair, they looked just like
Paulo and Philippe.  I broke into a run.  When I reached the intersection,
I turned right, the direction they had gone, but they weren't there.  I
stood in the middle of Houston airport congestion wondering if I was just
wishing them to be there.

I walked down to my gate.  I sat remembering Sebastian.  I felt like I was
leaving part of me in each city, or perhaps part of me was going to
different cities now.  Fernando, Paulo and Philippe were in McAllen and
would be back in Seville and England soon I was sure.  Sebastian I met in
Houston but he was headed to Beaumont.  I was waiting to leave for Denver.
Would I ever find a place to settle down, someone to share my life with,
another person that would love me like my three angels?  I was loved, I
felt better than I had in years, but I was still alone.

I learned a long time ago, when you start feeling sorry for yourself, start
working.  Self-pity never helps you.  I pulled out my notes from Edinburgh
and started looking them over.

As in all airports, the engineers who handled the sound system had never
listened to it with people and activity in the building once it was
installed.  But up there in the high reaches of the concourse the paging
system announced, "Would the following people please pick up a white
courtesy phone for a message: Dr, Suzanne Baru, Dr. Suzanne Baru,
Mr. Harold Winter, Mr. Harold Winter, and Mr. Adam Bricker, Mr. Adam
Bricker."

My heart jumped.  I stood up and went to the nearest phone.  I identified
myself, and the operator said to wait while she found the message.

"The message Mr. Bricker, says `You did it right, Fernando.'  Does that
make sense?  There is no other information, I'm sorry."

"Yes, thank you, thank you very much."

I hung up the phone and turned slowly in a circle, scanning the crowd. I
could feel Fernando's presence as a warm smile. But he was nowhere to be
seen. I felt sure, however, that we would meet again.

************************************************************************

Send comments to: adambrick@tomcup.com

To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com.

If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story."

Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local
independent bookseller, or get a copy from Tom Cup.com.

Tom Cup's "Of Our Teenage Years" is scheduled for publication and
release in paperback in the Spring of 2004. Check it out at
http://www.tomcup.com!