Date: Mon, 6 Jul 2015 20:10:00 +0200
From: Nick Brady <y2kslacker@mail.com>
Subject: Marco in the Park - Part 12

Marco in the Park - Part 12

This story includes consensual sex between a teenage boy and a young man,
so you should be 18 to read it.  Please send comments to
y2kslacker@mail.com and please make donations to Nifty.

Copyright 2015 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.


------------------------------------

We both slept in on Saturday morning. It had been a great week but we were
ready to be back home and settle into the usual routine. We spent Saturday
doing laundry and cleaning out the refrigerator. There were some leftovers
that were starting to grown mold cultures that we doubted were a new strain
of penicillin so tossed them all out to start over. The first thing we did
on getting home the night before was shift our fish fillets to the
freezer. They were not quite thawed so we figured that Bobby had done a
good job and they would keep fine. Perhaps we would save them for a dinner
with Wayne and David. We went to the market and started over on milk, eggs,
and other essentials. Marco picked out a roasted chicken, some vegetables
and a big box of Bisquick. We wanted a little of our own brand of home
cooking and he planned to make a big pot of chicken and dumplings. By now I
had wisely turned most of the cooking over to him.

After putting things away, Marco started in on dinner. He pulled all the
roast chicken from the carcass and diced it into bite sized chunks. The
carcass and skin went into our crock pot with a can of chicken stock and
some seasonings that he claimed were proprietary. An hour later he drained
all the stock through a sieve then poured the stock back into the pot and
added the chicken, diced carrots, potatoes, chopped celery and a can of
green peas, then brought it to a boil and turned it down to a simmer. While
it was cooking he mixed a bowl of Bisquick with milk until it was a little
sticky for biscuits, shaped them into balls and dropped them into the
broth.

	He put the lid on the stock pot and grinned at me. "You are twenty
minutes from paradise."

	"From the way it smell I think I am there already."

Twenty minutes later the lid came off and the dumplings had doubled in
size. They were fat and shiny, and I began to salivate.

	"We have to wait a few minutes for it to rest a little and let the
juice thicken," he told me. "Set the table and pour us some cold milk. That
goes perfectly with this stuff."

	I impatiently followed his instructions and sat expectantly while
he ladled out two steaming plates and put them in front of me, "my God that
smells good!"

	He laughed. "It helps that you are really hungry. It might need a
little salt and pepper. You can add it at the table but you can't take it
out."

	I scooped up a fork full and blew on it to cool it off enough to
eat it. It was wonderful. I paused just long enough to say, "You have
outdone yourself young man. This is fantastic."

	"You like it?" he grinned.

	"Ummm!" I replied.

	"I hope so because there is enough here for several more meals," he
said.

I nodded my head and devoted myself to his creation. We dispensed with
conversation and I asked for another dumpling.

	"Sure, if we eat all the dumplings I can make some more biscuits
and it will be just as good – almost," he grinned.

	As we were washing up I told him. "That's it, I quit pretending to
cook. I have been totally outclassed. You are doing the cooking from now
on."

He just grinned.

	Sunday morning he was up and dressed. "You going to church this
morning?"

	"I usually do. You're getting to be a regular," I told him.

	"Maybe. I kind of like your church," he said.

	"It's our church," I reminded him.

We fixed some eggs and toast, and had time to look at the paper before the
service. We were a little early and sat in our usual place. Before long
Wayne and David came in and sat in front of us.

	"Good to see you guys. How was the big trip?" Wayne asked.

	"It was great!" Marco said. "We'll tell you about it after the
service."

The service was nice, as it always was. I noticed that Marco was becoming
adept at the Episcopal aerobics, standing, sitting and kneeling at all the
right places. Over coffee and cookies he did most of the talking, relating
the short version of our adventure. He glossed over our visit to my mother
but went into some detail about the fishing trip.

	"You should see the fish we caught," he said. "They are in the
freezer waiting for you guys to come over."

	I raised my eyebrows. "Marco is becoming quite the chef. He made a
fantastic pot of chicken and dumplings last night." Our friends looked
genuinely interested.

	"We will look forward to that," David said.

The after church crowd thinned out and I saw Marco speak to Father
Hoover. The conversation was brief but they both concluded by nodding their
heads.

We considered going home for another round of last nights dinner but
decided to go light for lunch and drove through the Sonic for a chili
cheese dog. We sat in the car while we ate.

	"I saw you talking to Fr. Hoover," I mentioned.

	 Marco considered his reply as he ate his tater tots. "Yeah, I'm
going to go by and talk to him Tuesday after school."

	"You are getting serious about this church thing."

	"Well, we are just going to talk," he seemed to be thinking. "Does
he know we are gay?"

	I was a little surprised at the question. "Does that make a
difference?"

	He scowled a little. "Well, you know, I thought it might."

	"I don't know what he knows. I doubt it would make much difference
to him either way."

	Marco gave me a sideways glance. "I mean if that comes up, would I
be out of place to say that we are gay? Like, would that be an invasion of
your privacy?"

	I laughed. "Oh, I see what you are getting at. I guess the short
answer is, no, at this point I don't guess I really care. To be honest,
Hoover isn't dense, I suspect he's figured out we are a couple. But I bet
he is not going to ask you."

	Marco looked at me. "You know where I'm coming from. I thought I
might talk to him about it."

	"Be my guest. You should be able to talk to your priest about
anything."

He nodded his head as if that were a new concept to him. We sat and
finished our lunch.

	He wadded up our trash and stuffed it into one of the paper bags,
and changed the subject. "Are we going to do anything this afternoon? I
don't have to be at work until 4:00."

	"Sure, that would be nice. What would you like to do?"

	"I don't know, just something. I have to go to school in the
morning and we will be back to the usual grind. Seems like we should do
something." He thought a minute. "Could we go over to Philbrook? We haven't
been there in a long time."

	I chuckled. "I still can't believe you like art museums."

	"Hey, it's a nice place, all the painting and sculptures. And I
like the garden out back. We did a lot of fun stuff on our trip but we
didn't have time to go to anyplace like that."

	"You bet," I started the car and we drove up Peoria to the museum.

We parked and walked into the former mansion of one of the founders of the
Phillips 66 oil company. The home itself and a large annex house a
permanent collection of art from all over the world, and a rotating
collection of traveling exhibits from various sources.  When we walked into
the entry Marco stopped to look at the larger than life statue of a nude
male by Rodin.

	"I really like that," he walked all around, looking at it from
different angles. "It has a rough look about it but it almost seems alive,
like he is about to move."

We spent the next hour walking through the current exhibit, then walked
through the old mansion whose rooms were filled with part of the permanent
collection, European and American masters, Asian art, textiles, several
rooms of Native American art from pre-Columbian times to the present
day. Marco took it all in and appreciated it, although neither of us knew
much about the history of the artists.

	"This stuff is really neat," he said. "Now lets go out to the
garden."

We walked out the back of the mansion and down the ornate stone steps to a
beautifully landscaped garden surrounding a pond. It bore an intentional
resemblance to the garden painted so many times by Monet. At the end
opposite the mansion was a lovely slender white cupola which stood on top
of a raised area. We walked around the garden to sit on the benches inside
the cuppola.

	Marco recalled, "When we were here last summer the garden was full
of flowers, but even now it's pretty, all the dried grasses and stuff. They
have color too, soft shades that change when they move." We could see the
bright orange and yellow Koi swimming in the pools.

	"It's kind of like the sunrise over the water," I reminded
him. "Every time you look, it's a little different." He nodded.

	"It's so pretty," he said. "I like pretty things."

	"Did you ever try to paint, or draw?"

	"I used to like to draw race cars," he chuckled. "Like that stuff
on the wall of your old room."

	"Maybe you should get a paint set and try it again," I
suggested. "You might have a talent there."

	"Aw, I just like to look," then he shrugged. "Maybe."

It was close to 3:00 and we started back to the apartment. Our vacation was
at a close and it was time to resume our usual routine. He dressed for work
and I dropped him off at Luigi's then went back to wait for him to get off.

He called at 10:15 and I picked him up and drove the short distance back
home. He counted out his cash tips and pulled out his check from the
weekend. He stuffed the check and most of the cash into an envelope to
deposit in the bank the next day after school. We microwaved some more of
his chicken and ate the last of the dumplings. We showered and went to bed,
making some extra time for love.

Now we were back in our usual routine. He fixed us some breakfast and we
talked a little, then he carried his bike out and rode off to school. I
drove myself to work. He got back before I did and made something for
supper then while I cleaned up he did his school work. He was serious now,
trying to keep his grades up and hoping for some kind of scholarship.

We started looking at college catalogs, talking about different programs
and estimating expenses. He decided that he would try and get his basics
done at the Tulsa Community College before the investment of one of the
universities. He was adamant about staying in Tulsa for school.

	"The University of Tulsa is a great school," he said. "But way too
expensive. I need to go to OSU Tulsa or the Tulsa campus of Oklahoma
University. I don't even want to think about going to school somewhere
else. But I don't know what I can afford.

	"Don't give up on a scholarship," I reminded him. He was not
hopeful.

	"How am I going to get a scholarship? I don't play football or
anything," Marco protested.

	"That's not really true," I tried to explain. "Do you know that
more students go to college on academic scholarships than athletic
scholarships?  Besides, some scholarships are based at least partly on
need. You might qualify for more than you think."

	Marco looked thoughtful, if not convinced. "I guess I could
try. But I don't even know how to begin. I never thought seriously about
going to college. I figured I didn't have a chance at it."

	"Don't you have a counselor at school you could ask about financial
assistance?"

	"Yeah, I think so. Mr. Blankenship is supposed to do that kind of
thing."

	"Well ask to talk to him. You have good grades, and for sure you
have financial need. I imagine you will have to get your mother to supply
some information on her income."

	Marco snorted. "Fat chance of that. Her income is sort of cash
only. Besides, she doesn't give a damn whether I go to college or not. When
I tried to talk to her about it last year it seemed to piss her off, like I
had the big head or something."

	"Listen, if she has qualified for Section 8 housing she has had to
give somebody a statement of her financial need," I reminded him.

	"Well maybe so. She gets food stamps and she has one of those WICA
cards she buys groceries with," Marco remembered.

	"Right. I bet you can get that information out of her. Look Marco,
you have to try. I have never thought of you as a quitter."

	Marco didn't like that. "You know I'm not a quitter," he replied
sharply.

	"Well then, get your ass in gear and start working on this."

When I got home the next day Marco had dinner ready and was in a more
positive mood.

	"I talked to Mr. Blankenship today," he told me.

	"Really? What did you find out?" I asked.

	"I explained that I wasn't living with my mother and had been on my
own for over 6 months. I just told him I was living with a friend, but had
no plans to go back to my mother. He seemed to know a little about my
situation which sort of surprised me.

	I smiled at him. "Guidance councilors know more than you think they
do.

	"I guess. Anyway he had some forms for me to fill out and we talked
about Tulsa schools. He liked the idea of TCC first then maybe OSU
Tulsa. He said that I probably would qualify for a Pell grant and that the
state has some grants based on need. He got on the school computer and
looked at my grades, which are good by the way. He also told me that being
in the school orchestra was a good thing for me too."

	"That shows you are a well rounded person, that is a good thing," I
reminded him.

	"I haven't played my violin since we went on our trip. You want to
play something together?" he asked.

That seemed like a good idea. I turned on my little keyboard and we worked
through a couple of things. We had graduated to another collection of
violin piano duets that David had loaned us. They were simple arrangements
of some nice classical things. Marco had a nice touch on the violin. The
borrowed school instrument had a shallow tone but Marco made it sound
sweet. I thought he was pretty good. My playing was getting better now that
we were playing together. It was a nice thing to share with a friend.

The next week Marco had some news to share over dinner.

	"Mr. Blankenship called me in this afternoon. He looked over the
forms I filled out and did something with them. He said he looked at my
grades, and at my ACT scores and said he had some good news for me."

	"Hang on. Your ACT scores? I don't think you mentioned that
before. When did you take your ACT tests?"

	"Last November, just before Thanksgiving. I thought I told you
that."

	"No, I don't think so. When did you get the results?"

	"I haven't seen them yet, but Mr. Blankenship had them. He said
they were good."

	"Did he say what your scores were?" I was very curious.

	"I guess there are different scores for different areas like Math,
Science, English and whatever. I will get that in a week or so. But he did
tell me that my overall ACT score was a 33. He said that was pretty good."

	"Pretty good? That's terrific. Mine wasn't that high. Damn, I'm
impressed."

	Marco grinned. "That's what Mr. Blankenship told me. He said that
puts me above the 95th percentile. That means I scored higher than 95
percent of the people taking the test."

	"Marco, that is great news. Congratulations."

	Marco's smile got bigger. "No, that's not it, or that's only part
of it. The really good news is that he thinks I qualify as an Honors
Program Scholar at TCC. That means full tuition and even a little
stipend. The stipend isn't much, but it is supposed to pay for your books
and fees. If I keep my grades up it's good for up to 8 semesters."

	I jumped up from the table and hugged him. "Marco, that's
fantastic. I am so thrilled for you."

	He just kept grinning. "Yeah, that's pretty cool. I have to apply
for it but he thinks I will qualify. He'll write a letter indicating that I
am in need of financial assistance, and my shit don't stink, you know, that
sort of thing." Now he was really laughing. He shook his head. "I can't
believe it. I guess I'm going to college."

	I sat back down and looked at him with admiration. "So now what do
you do? Have you thought about a major?"

	Marco sat back and grinned. "What do I want to major in? I never
thought I would have to think about that. Blankenship gave me a TCC catalog
to look through, and I thought maybe we could talk about it."

	"Well, you can get some required courses out of the way first. That
will give you time to think about what area you would like to go into." I
thought for a minute. "It's good for 8 semesters? That's a full 4 years."

	"Well, here's the thing. Tulsa Community College only offers
Associate degrees, not a BS or BA like a four year school. A lot of
students go part time while they are working and might go 8 semesters just
to get the Associate degree. I want to go full time and go as fast as I
can. I imagine I will get everything I want out of TCC in no more than 4
semesters. I want to be sure everything I take will transfer to someplace
like Oklahoma State. I think I would like to go to OSU Tulsa if I can get
some help with that."

	"You're pretty excited about this." I smiled at him.

 "I am, really excited. I want go to to college so bad I can taste it but
was always afraid to get my hopes up. I have to admit I'm pretty pumped up
about this," he took a breath. "Mr. Blankenship wants me to take another
test, something called the Myers-Briggs test. It is supposed to tell me
what sort of things I'm best suited for."

	"I remember taking that. It was probably the reason I got into
computer programming. That is a good thing Marco. Oh, I am so proud of
you!"

We sat together on the sofa and looked at the TCC catalog, then some
pamphlets his counselor gave him on OSU and a few more places. He was full
of plans.

By the next week he had taken the Myers-Briggs and brought home the results
for us to look at. He was too excited to bother with cooking dinner so we
sent out for pizza and poured over the test results.

	"This says my highest correlation is with the fine arts, like
music, painting and literature. I wouldn't have expected that," he said.

	"It doesn't surprise me," I observed. "You are the ultimate museum
freak. It means you are creative."

	"The next is with analytic stuff, like computer programming or some
kind of engineering. What's up with that?"

	"Programming is very creative. I scored high in that. I can't say
that surprises me either."

	"But we don't even have a computer" Marco said. "The only time I
ever messed around with a computer was at Grant's, and mostly I just hunted
for porn. I've never learned to write a program"

	I laughed. "I use my smart phone to look things up on the
Internet. I don't really need porn when I have you around. Coding is pretty
easy to learn actually. You can pick that up. What a programmer needs is a
creative mind and an attention to detail, both of which you have. That
might be a good choice for you."

	"Hmm," he replied. "Then he started looking through the catalogs. I
had never seen him quite so motivated, or quite so happy.

	After some time, he laid down the catalogs and leaned into my
shoulder. "Are you really proud of me?"

	"I told you I was. I think you are about to come into your own,
Marco. I knew that would happen, I just didn't know when. You've got the
brains and you have the drive. All you needed was the opportunity."

	Marco pulled my head down and kissed me firmly on the mouth. "Thank
you," he said.

	"What did I do, you are the one with the brains?"

	He kissed me again. "You gave me the opportunity."

	"Just make the best of this, that's all I ask of you." He kissed me
again.

We undressed and showered together, washing each other very throughly. We
moved into the bed and made love to each other, slowly, gently and
fervently. We did the flip flop thing after careful preparation. This was
not nearly the same as just having sex together, it was on a much different
level. I wanted to give him pleasure and he wanted the same for me. We were
both successful. It was better than just good.

The weeks went by and Marco applied for the scholarship from TCC. A short
time later he came home to tell me that he had been successful. The
decision he had to make was whether to begin in the fall or during the
summer term.

	"If I start this summer I might not be able to ride for Mercer and
I could use the extra money."

	"What for, you have a full ride at TCC."

	"Yeah, but I need to start saving for OSU. That will be more
expensive."

	"Strike while the iron is hot," I told him."

	"What does that mean?"

	"That means I think you should start as soon as you can."

	"Oh. I guess you're right. You generally are," he smiled.

Marco began to enjoy being a high school senior, which he had really not
done before. There were activities – Senior Day, and some social events
which I encouraged him to attend.

	"But you won't be there," he complained.

	"But your friends will be. Haven't you made some friends at
school?"

	"Well yes, but it's not the same."

	"Go, have a good time and don't go home with anybody else."

	He did. And he didn't. Rather he came home and told me how crazy
some of the other kids acted.

	"Honestly, you would think they were 6th graders," he complained.

	"Well, most of your friends are old guys like me," I reminded him.

He came back later than usual from school one afternoon after meeting with
Father Hoover.

	"We had our talk," he told me.

	"He wants me to be baptized the day before Easter, and I am
supposed to meet with him a couple of times before then, like after church
on Sunday. He wants to tell me about church traditions and stuff like
that."

	"Easter Eve is a very traditional time for baptism," I told him. "I
think in the early church it was about the only time they would baptize
people."

	"That's what he said." He paused. "I told him that we were gay."

	"Really? What did he say to that?"

	Marco smiled. "He said that God loves everybody and that wasn't a
problem. Just like you said he would."

	"How do you feel about that?"

	"I don't know, relieved I guess. Like I have been approved of or
something."

	"Like you are accepted?"

	"Yeah, like that. I feel pretty good."

	I smiled at him. "I'm so proud of you Marco. You are making a lot
of really good decisions. Maybe you are conquering your demons."

	He nodded his head. "Yeah, I think so too. But you know, so many
things are going right that it almost makes me nervous."

	"Don't be nervous. This is the result of doing what you are
supposed to and making good decisions. This is the way life is supposed to
be. Things will come along that throw us a curve, but we will get past
those things too." I chuckled. "I think maybe the best decision I ever made
was giving you a ride home those many months ago. That turned out to be a
pretty good decision."

	Marco gave me a very sweet smile. That's really a nice thing to
say, Marty."

	"It's true."

	"I'm a lucky guy," Marco said.

	Me too," I agreed. I think we are blessed.

We made plans to share our Red Snapper with David and Wayne. They had
invited us over several times since Christmas and it was our turn. Marco
did the honors.

David was the acknowledged chef for the couple and he was very interested
in Marco's preparation. We had discovered some beautiful asparagus at the
market and Marco entrusted me with preparing the salad, although he
provided the instructions. Thin slices of fresh tomato, cucumbers and ripe
avocado, tossed with a nice oil and vinegar dressing. David steamed the
asparagus and watched with interest as Marco did the fish. We had purchased
a bottle of Chablis for our wine drinking friends and Marco borrowed a
splash of it for his masterpiece.

	"See, you just saute one side in a little olive oil, then flip it
over and sprinkle the other side with salt, pepper and a little chopped
basil. OK, then slip in a little slug of the Chablis and put on the lid to
let it steam, just a little now, so it will stay moist." David was
practically taking notes.

	"Where did this kid learn to cook?" he asked no one in particular.

	"I saw this on a cooking show and have been waiting for a chance to
try it."

	"We may have to get a TV," I said.

	We sat at the table and got ready to eat, but Marco held up his
hand to stop us. "Marty, would you bless it please?

	I held out my hands and the four of us joined hands around the
table. "Lord, thank you for these friends and for this wonderful
dinner. Bless this food to our use and us to thy service – and bless the
hands that prepared it." And we all said Amen.

	We all agreed that the fish was wonderful, the asparagus fresh and
tender, and the avocado salad just the right compliment. "You are a
wonderful chef," David told Marco. "I was taking notes on how you prepared
this lovely Red Snapper."

	"Caught it with my own hands," Marco grinned.

	After a few minutes there was a break in the conversation and I
announced, "Marco is going to be baptized on Easter Eve."

	"Oh how wonderful," Wayne said. "That's very traditional, you
know."

	David added, "We will be there for sure. That's very nice, Marco."

Marco smiled but didn't reply.

	I continued, "And he has a full scholarship for Tulsa Community
College beginning this summer, and that's just the beginning for him."

 	All eyes were on Marco. "I've always wanted to go to college but I
really didn't think it was a possibility so yes, I am very excited."

	"Well," David smiled. "You are just full of surprises." Marco
looked a little embarrassed.

	"There is more fish," Marco offered.

	"I couldn't say no," Wayne accepted. There were no leftovers.

We sat around the table and chatted for awhile then our guests excused
themselves and we said goodnight. I help wash and put away the dishes and
cooking utensils.

	"You did a great job on dinner tonight," I told Marco.

	"Thanks," Marco didn't have much to say.

	"You OK? You were kind of quiet tonight."

	"I'm alright. But to tell the truth I guess I was a little
uncomfortable," he admitted.

	"What's the matter? Your dinner was a big hit."

	We sat down on the sofa. "Well, I felt kind of like a little
kid. Oh, you are going to be baptized, how nice. Oh, you are going to
school, what a good boy."

	"I think they were just happy for you. Why would that make you
uncomfortable?"

	"I don't know, it just struck me funny. Maybe I'm tired or
something," he tried to explain.

	I thought a minute. "Maybe we need some friends closer to your
age. I can see it might be awkward always being so much younger than the
rest of us."

	"No, that's not it. I don't want to be cranky." After a minute he
said, "I'm sorry. To tell the truth I'm not comfortable around very many
people. I like when it is just the two of us. I guess that sounds pretty
selfish."

	"You have been around Wayne and David before. What was different
tonight?" I wondered.

	"Never mind. I wish I hadn't said anything."

	"I think maybe we put you on the spot, by reviewing your
accomplishments. Maybe that was it. It was like you were expected to make a
little speech. Was that it?"

	He nodded. "I don't know, there was just something about
it. Sorry."

	"Don't be sorry. You feel the way you feel. You and I are so open
with each other that I forget that you are really a very private person. I
will try to remember that."

	"Can we go to bed now? I'm really tired," he said.

	"Sure. You did all the work tonight. Even caught dinner." That made
him smile.

We undressed and went straight to bed, no shower, no mambo. I was a little
concerned for him but thought he would talk about this when he felt like
it, or not.

The Easter season came soon enough and after church on the Sundays during
Lent, Marco had his conversations with Fr. Hoover. I encouraged him to
consider buying a suit for the occasion.

	"I never wore a suit in my life, why now?" He wanted to know.

	"You would look great in a suit," I told him.

	"If you say so."

	"Well you would. But of course you don't have to. Just wear khakis
and a sweater if you like."

	"Maybe I will wear jeans and a teeshirt."

	"Oh, you don't want to do that. You should look nice. It's a
special occasion."

	"What does it matter what I wear? This isn't about what I wear."

	"Well you're right of course. It is about your personal commitment
I suppose."

	He thought for a minute. "Fr. Hoover said that in the early days
people wore a white robe and went down to the river to get dunked."

	"That's baptism by immersion, but we usually sort of sprinkle
people in our church."

	"That's what Hoover said, but he said that if I wanted to be dunked
he could arrange it."

	I was a little surprised but asked him. "Is that what you want?"

	He shrugged. "If I'm going to do this it seems like I should do it
right. What would you think if I did?"

	I smiled at him. "I think that would be just fine. You should do
what feels right to you. You want to be dunked?"

	He looked at me and replied. "Yes, I think I would like that."

	"Tell Father Hoover that's what you want to do and he will make it
so."

Like most Episcopal churches, St. Jerome's did not have a baptismal pool,
so a few arrangements had to be made. Fr. Hoover seemed delighted with the
idea, and set about finding a suitable substitute for the River Jordan. He
found a parishioner who had a small stock tank and made arrangements to
have it scrubbed out and moved to the church courtyard.

I was to be Marco's sponsor and Godfather for the baptism. On the Sundays
during Lent he brought Marco and myself up to the front of the church to
ask the traditional question regarding his desire to be baptized. He took
advantage of the simple ceremony to indicate that this baptism would be
very traditional and would be done by immersion, proclaiming that this
might be a first for St. Jerome's and suggesting that everyone should be
sure and be present for this special event. There was a lot of talk about
it.

The Saturday evening before Easter Sunday was what is called the Easter
Vigil. Like the Christmas Eve service it began late and did not conclude
until just after midnight when it as officially Easter morning. The baptism
would be conducted just before the processional leading into the
service. Marco was ready, wearing a white alb usually reserved for the
acolytes who lit the candles.

The borrowed stock tank was scrubbed and filled with water and placed in
the church courtyard. A teakettle was filled with hot water and
ceremoniously poured into the tank as part of blessing the water. Marco was
standing by and at the proper moment stepped into the water and asked to
lie back so as to be properly dunked. He was not quite prepared for how
little one teakettle of hot water could warm the water in the tank, which
was very cold. He stepped inside, and plopped down in the water with an
audible gasp. At the crucial moment Father Hoover pushed his head under the
water and let him sputter as he intoned the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Spirit, making sure that Marco's head was fully under water for all three
members of the Trinity. It gave us the shivers just to watch. Marco stood
up and was handed a large beach towel and welcomed into the body of
Christ. He sputtered and shivered as the assembled crowd applauded.

Marco reacted with a broad grin and detoured into the men's room to change
into khakis and a sweater before joining the rest of the congregation for
the remainder of the service.

	"How do you feel?" I asked as he sat down next to me.

	"Warmer now," he croaked.

	"You could have been sprinkled," I reminded him.

	"This was more fun," he grinned.

The service was beautiful with lots of music, and ended just after
midnight. We were greeted by many people we had seen but not met, as they
congratulated Marco and joked about the cold water. I wondered if he would
be shy but seemed to enjoy the attention. There was a lot of laughing. It
was a good thing for a number of reasons.

The school year ran on and Marco was amused by some of the
activities. There was a Senior Tea which seemed to be intended to instill a
basic knowledge of etiquette.

	"You can't believe some of the guys on the football team, They are
like animals, really ," he recalled.

There was a Senior trip which took the class to Oklahoma City to see the
memorial for the 1995 bombing of the Murrah building.

	"It was interesting, but kind of a downer for a senior trip. I was
thinking a roller coaster or something like that,"

After Career Day Marco came back enthusiastic.

	"Marty, everybody is looking for computer people. I was talking to
some airline recruiters and they had some interesting things to say. They
pay a lot of money!"

	"Better than Luigi?"

	"Oh yeah. But I would miss the tips," he grinned.

And then there was the Senior Prom.

	"I'm not going," Marco declared.

	"Hey, it might be fun, a band, lots of kids dancing around. You
should invite some hot chick."

	That got me a dirty look. "I'm not going."

	"I went to mine," I told him.

	"Really? Did you take a girl?"

	"I did. I took Marianne."

	"Who was she?"

	"She was just a friend. I knew her from the third grade and she was
really sweet. Neither of us dated much so I asked her if she would go to
the prom with me. We danced a little then went to Braums for ice cream and
I took her home. It was nice, really."

	Marco seemed to think about that. "That was OK for you but I just
don't want to do something like that. I don't have any friends who are
girls, really, and I don't want to ask somebody just to be asking
somebody."

	"Hey, I'm not trying to talk you into anything. I just wanted you
to think about it," I assured him.

	"I appreciate that, but that's sort of thing is not who I am. We
have been together for almost a year, Marty. If I didn't know who I was
before we met, I do now. I am a gay boy and in a committed relationship
with a man I love very much. I don't need to go to my high school prom with
a manufactured date, OK?"

	I threw up my hands. "I got it! That's fine, no prom for you."

	Marco smiled at me. "Would you go with me?"

	"Whoa, this is Tulsa, not San Francisco," I reminded him.

	"Hey, we could rent matching tuxes and get little carnations for
the lapels. What do you think?" He was grinning now.

	"Oh Marco, surely you aren't serious. I can give you at least a
dozen reasons why that's not a good idea."

	"I'm not completely kidding, but maybe you see my point. I'm not
going to do something if I'm not comfortable doing it," Marco smiled at me.

I looked at my young friend with admiration. He was right, no doubt about
it. And I had to realize that despite our good relationship I sometimes
treated him like a child. He was young and beautiful, but he was nobody's
fool.

	"I humbly respect your decision, Marco. Subject closed." I took his
hand. "And I think I understand why you were uncomfortable with David and
Wayne the other day. We love you, but I think we do patronize you
sometimes. It has to do with the age difference, not your lack of
maturity."

	"I know. I understand all that, but it irks me sometimes. You guys
were just laying it on a little thick."

	Then Marco gave me that special smile he gets sometimes. "Enough of
this shit. Want to take a shower and go to bed? Hmm?"

I thought that was a great idea. Nothing like good sex to clear the air.
The flip flop thing had become a regular part of our love making. It took a
little more time but was well worth it.


TO BE CONTINUED

--------------------------------

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