Date: Sun, 23 Jul 2000 20:22:16 EDT
From: VicHowel@aol.com
Subject: Growing Up Sexual - chapter XXX

Growing Up Sexual - Chapter 30 - by Dave MacMillan

A number of you wrote in response to my wondering about the future of this
series.  Interestingly, only one of you thought that Vic and the boys of
Soul had probably outlived their usefulness.  One of those who responded
even compared reading GUS to sitting on the front porch and hearing the
latest gossip about people he knew and cared for.

You, I especially want to thank.  It's very hard for a writer, any writer,
to capture the sense of a place.  It's even harder when the writer is
writing the latest serial installment just before it's rushed off to the
publisher.  There's no going back to earlier chapters and blending in the
new chapter with what has gone before.  It's wham, bam, thank you sir.  I'm
truly happy that I succeed in keeping a continuing sense of Soul going from
installment to installment.  But I want to thank all of you who read
Growing up Sexual and enjoy it.  More than money or recognition, succeeding
in pleasing one's reader is the greatest compliment a writer can receive.

So, Vic and the laddies are going to have some more tales to tell.  I don't
know how many or if there will be new characters or what.  I suspect,
however, that with place and character already well established, this and
future chapters will be close to the preceding 29.

Thank you all again.  I believe that, if he could, Vic and his friends
would thank you too.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

It was Saturday afternoon and Mrs. Yokum only worked half a day.  But she
outdid herself in those four hours.  If there ever was a hell, I knew
exactly what it had to be like - it was full of wonderful, interesting
things and the people condemned to be there could not touch or even study
them.  It was full of the most mouth-watering food and the people there
were not allowed to touch any of it - they were forced to eat oatmeal
without milk, sugar, and butter.  It was full of the most interesting and
pleasant things to do, and nobody could do them.  It was Nazi Germany with
the concentration camps, and the people there were all Jews.  Only they
didn't die in hell like they did under the Nazis.  For eternity.

By four, I could smell the cake in the oven.  And I knew Mrs. Yokum's
chocolate cake - it melted in a boy's mouth.  By half past she'd started
the country-fried steak and potatoes.  My stomach was growing even though I
had a lump in my throat as wide as the Mississippi.  My body was resisting
my head.  It didn't know I was a condemned man.  I didn't know if I'd be
kicked out of my house before I could even taste any of the food she was
cooking.

I looked up at the clock on my desk and saw it was a quarter til.  I'd been
lying in my bed since a little after one when Mrs. Yokum's clucking like a
mother hen about my not eating my lunch had sent me running for my room.
It seemed like forever since Clyde had called at noon.  An eternity.

I knew that mum was going to kill me.  Or worse.  She would kick me out of
the house, and everybody in Soul would know I was queer.  By the end of
next week, I would be friendless.

I figured that I'd be homeless too - except that I hoped Auntie Clyde would
put me up out at his place.  I even accepted what that would mean.  I'd be
his anytime he wanted me AND I'd pretty much bend over for the boys who
came out to visit him - just like Julian.  My future was screwed, skewed,
and tatooed.

I'd cried myself out.  I wouldn't open the door for Mrs. Yokum.  I wanted
to die.

I hated Julian Head for showing me how much I liked a hard dick.  I hated
Richard Lee for showing me how good one felt in my butt.  Mostly, though, I
hated myself for getting myself caught in this mess.

There was a knock at the door and I stared at it wishing Mrs. Yokum would
just leave me alone.  I must have dozed, though.  At least, I hadn't heard
mum come home or Mrs. Yokum leave.  "Go away!" I yelled and turned over to
bury my face in my pillow.  I heard the door open.

Shit!  I loved Mrs. Yokum to death, but couldn't she leave me alone?  I was
about to lose everything I'd ever known and loved.  I wanted to be left
alone until mum got home and lowered the boom on me.  I turned over and
looked towards the door.

"You look a mess, Vic," mum said, a smile crinkling the skin around her
eyes.

"Mum!" I gulped.

"I think so, honey.  I seem to remember bringing you into this world almost
fifteen years ago."  She shook her head slowly.  "You do look like
something the dog drug in."

"I-" My gaze dropped to my hands.  I couldn't continue to meeting hers.  I
wondered when she was going to tell me to start packing.  I heard her dress
as she crossed the room.

She sat down on my bed and I felt her arms go around me and pull me to her.
"I love you, Vic."  My face nestled against her breast, like when I was a
baby.  "That's the single most important aspect of our life together -
anything else pales with insignificance.  Do you understand?"

Tears started flowing and I couldn't stop them.  I'd thought there weren't
any more left in me, but I was wrong.  "You still love me even now that you
know-?" I sobbed.

"Do you think you've done something wrong, Vic?" she asked softly.  "Do you
think that what you and Joe were doing this morning was bad?"

That caught me up short.  I hadn't thought about the sex that I'd had over
the past nearly three years being wrong.  It'd felt good, even while I'd
just known all along that the world thought doing queer things was wrong.
I had to think about it.  My tears dried up until I was just sniffling.  I
pulled away from her and faced my mother.

"Mum, it feels good and it doesn't hurt anybody," I told her finally.  "I -
I don't see where there's anything wrong or bad about that."

She took a deep breath.  "There's Masters and Johnson up at the University
of Indiana - they say that most of us are a little homosexual and a little
heterosexual.  Some of us are more one way than the other.  It's like a bar
graph the way they tell it.  I've even heard that there's a movement in the
American Psychiatric Association to remove homosexuality from their list of
aberrant behavior.  They seem to have some good arguments-"

"Have you been at your office reading all day?" I asked quietly, still
unsure where all this was heading.  I hoped it wasn't going to be a
full-fledged storm but I still wasn't sure.

She chuckled.  "Most of it."

"You didn't just decide that I was bad and that you were going to throw me
out-"

She frowned.  "People don't do stupid things like that if they love
somebody."  She took another deep breath.  "Instead, they work things out
between them."

It began to dawn on me that I wasn't going to be kicked out of my home.  My
mother still loved me just as much now as she had yesterday.  I wasn't
going to have to become Auntie Clyde's toy.  I was safe.  And I was loved.

"I think Mrs. Yokum left us your favorite food - and a chocolate cake for
dessert," mum said as she stood up.  "Don't you think we ought to go eat it
before it all gets cold?"

"Vic," mum pointed her glass of tea at me.  "We all have hopes and dreams
for those we love.  Too often, though, that very person we love has his or
her own mind.  If we love them, we accept decisions and even whole
personalities that don't go along with everything we want.  The fact is
that we're all individuals, none of us can really be exactly what somebody
else wants us to be."

I was eating - slowly.  I wasn't afraid any more and my stomach wasn't tied
up in knots.  But I was trying to feel my way through this thing with mum.
Who knew what kind of restrictions or even punishment mum was going to put
on me?  I wasn't asking questions, either - there wasn't any reason to goad
her into becoming mad at me.  Or give her any ideas.

"I guess I had a pretty good idea that you were homosexual back when you
and the Lee boys came to me about that preacher up in Atlanta and his porn
movies.  I hoped I was wrong, Vic - but I've had time to adjust to the idea
these last couple of years-"

Silence grew between us and I looked up.  "Do you love Joe Phillips?"

That one floored me.  One, because she'd asked it.  Two, because I didn't
know how to answer it.  I took a deep breath and laid my fork down.  "I
like him a lot," I offered tentatively.

"Is it mostly sex between the two of you then?"

"I-" I studied her face and hoped I could find an answer there.  Only, she
was studying me and her face was a mask.  I realized she hadn't touched her
food.

"The sex is part of it - maybe a lot of it," I admitted.  "But we also
really like each other.  It all comes together so that it's complete
somehow-"

"Did you love Ronnie Varnadore?"

Embarrassed, I looked down at my plate.  "That was mostly the sex.  There
wasn't much there for either of us except that."

"You're going to have be careful, Vic.  You have to live with these kids in
this town until you're through school.  I can't be there every minute of
the day to protect you.  And they will call you names if you slip up even
once.  And some of them will do more than just call you names."

"I'm careful-"

She leaned closer.  "This morning wasn't careful.  If that had been
Mrs. Phillips opening that door on you two, you'd have been thrown out of
their house.  Half the town would know about what you and Joe were doing by
Wednesday night services.  It would have been all your fault.  And Joe
would be carted off to some Baptist school somewhere and you would be left
being the town queer."

"I wouldn't be the only one!"

"You would be the only one the town knows about.  Joe would be gone and
you'd be friendless."  She sighed.  "Honey, I'm telling you that you have
to keep any sex you have under cover - from other kids and from adults.
You probably should start dating girls just to give yourself more cover."
She smiled wanly.  "I'm not saying that it should be like that.  That you
should have to hide what you like.  But this isn't a perfect world.  And
we've both got to live in this town.  Be careful."

Of course mum was right.  I knew it.  And I had been careful.  The only boy
outside of my set with whom I'd done anything was Julian.  And that was
back at the end of last summer.  But I'd goofed bigtime by not locking my
door last night.  And I knew Joe and I were pushing the hat every time we
did anything at his house.

"Mum, how're we going to handle this?" I asked, taking the dive.  She
studied me askantly.  "I mean, what kind of restrictions are you going to
put me on?"

"Have you done something wrong?"

That question again!!!!  "No, but-"

"No buts, Vic.  I just want you to be sure that you and Joe don't let
yourselves get caught again - you and anybody. I want you to hold your head
high when you graduate, and I want other people glad that you're there
getting that diploma."

So, that's it!!  Permission to steam ahead - cautiously.  I realized that
I'd been holding my breath most of the time we'd been at table.  I sat back
and took a big breath.  Then, I looked at mum's plate again.

"One more question, mum-" I waited.  This time I saw the tightness around
her eyes that had been there all along.  She shrugged.  "Why aren't you
eating?  This is the best food we've had in a long time."  I smiled evilly
and twirled a non-existent moustache.  "And if you don't eat your dinner,
you don't get any of Mrs. Yokum's chocolate cake."

Her face broke into a smile.  "I love you," she mouthed.

"Yeah, and I love you too, mum."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I know, no sex and not even another boy for Vic to ogle.  And, of course,
we all knew Vic wasn't going to be kicked out or exposed by good old mum.
Still, this meeting of the minds needed to take place.

Almost a month ago, I asked the readers of this series what they thought of
being able to buy the completed manuscripts of other novels (and
collections) I wrote.  With a couple of exceptions, the response was
favourable.  What I'm doing is having a website designed for me - one that
will give you the opportunity to order in several collections of short
stories as well as novels.  It will also give you the opportunity to order
the three anthologies I edited that have now been released (at discount, I
think) or order autographed copies.

I've got to find out from a computer literate friend how that gets set up,
as well how to send a complete collection or novel as a complete unit (as
opposed to sending the buyer each chapter or story separately - I did say I
was computer illiterate).  From your comments, I've pretty well decided
that I'll charge $US3 collections or completed novels of series currently
running on Nifty and $US5 for a couple of full-length gay-themed but
mainstream novels I've written.  I'll be able to take Mastercard and Visa
(presumably you have to be 18 + for a bank to give you one).  There will be
a disclaimer that, by ordering, you agree that you are an adult in your
country and legally free to read whatever you wish.

So, hopefully, by the next installment of Growing Up Sexual, I'll be able
to give you a website address.

I'd love to hear what you think of this story, of Gut Feelings
(Beginnings), of Learning Season (Adult/Youth), of Confessions Of A Vampire
(Scifi), and Learning To Fly (college).  Write me at vichowell@aol.com