Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2001 18:40:00 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._Jordan@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: MY DENNIS 9: RICK

 My Dennis Copyright c.e. jordan


			     MY DENNIS 9: RICK

     Rick was a nice quiet boy built very much like D. Slender, tall, lanky,
lazy movements. He had a shy smile and appeared friendly. Like D he could play
video games for hours on end, but otherwise, he was always focused on Dennis
and whatever they happened to be doing. Rick rarely spoke to me directly, yet
he had an almost telepathic way of communicating with D. One or the other
would barely twitch and I'd know something passed between them, it was like a
secret language they had. I tell you, I was a LOT more jealous of this new boy
than I was of the hot, quietly simmering little Maria. Was Rick just a very
good friend, or was he going to be my replacement? It's possible D just
thought of him as a younger brother. Sometimes when we were all
together--myself, Maria, Carlos and this new boy, I could barely understand
what they were saying. Even Maria was left out, but she didn't seem to mind.
With his soft eyes, Rick would look slyly at Dennis and they'd giggle about
some secret thing--probably some kid nonsense--but it was still a knife in my
heart; he'd want to wrestle around with D. Or they'd play basketball with a
soft orange ball made of sponge and a white plastic basket attached to the
closet door.

     The `game' was mostly a wild thing Dennis and I had made up for
ourselves. I was the one who bought the basket and put it up. This game was
played not standing up, but on the knees. One had to throw the ball into the
basketball-hoop to win two points. If you got the ball through the hoop you
were allowed to throw again and again until you finally missed. Those were the
only rules. When you happened to miss and the ball fell back down, it became a
free-for-all. We had to scramble madly around on the floor trying to grab it
before the other guy did. You were allowed to do anything to get the ball away
from the other player in order to throw it again at the hoop for another two
points. Grab tender places, tickle. wrestle--everything was fair except
standing up. Anything.  After fifteen minutes whoever had the most points was
declared the winner.

     So, it became our favourite game. Rolling around on the carpet entwined
with each other in a struggle for the ball was a lot of fun. As you can
imagine, when D and I played by ourselves, the game itself was quickly
forgotten. But here I was, watching some strange boy rolling around the floor
with D playing OUR private game. I burned. Rick was getting to touch my
D...finding some lame excuse to hug him...all the while I tried to breathe. I
pretended to be very interested in the electronic game before me. Through a
sudden watery mist, I focused hard while trying desperately to kill off all
the stupid little figures on the stupid video screen....

     I thought of how much better, how much more appropriate a friend this boy
was to D; They could discuss the tiny details of American football, baseball,
and basketball that I couldn't. Rick's superior manual dexterity allowed him
to give D a better challenge and more fun with the computer games he loved;
they could do a lot of social stuff together at school and had friends in
common that I knew nothing about. Maybe I was just a boring older guy now.
What was I doing even trying to compete? I found myself tormented and
fantasizing when Rick began staying overnight with Dennis.

     Like an insane jealous lover, I kept checking each little noise in the
long white hallway outside my mother's apartment. Finally I stared through the
peephole on the door only to see Rick standing in front of D's apartment
hugging his white pillow and dragging his backpack on the ground. I could see
Dennis open the door and Rick enter. I turned away and slid down into the
corner by the door and wept. I tried not to imagine their slim nude bodies
intertwined, moving together rhythmically on D's bed....

     I recognized the real adoration in Rick's eyes. And even if he himself
didn't know what he wanted, I did. The fact that to Dennis he was probably
just a good friend, didn't dampen my imagination or cool down my hidden anger.
After all we'd been to each other how could D cut me out of his life like
that? In my saner moments I knew he wasn't cutting me out, or rejecting me, as
such, he was only doing what kids do, growing--changing, acquiring a social
life; a full life that included a lot of folks other than me. On the surface
Dennus wasn't sentimental--or wasn't comfortable showing it, still,
occasionally, I'd catch him gazing sadly at me from across the room.

     But we never spoke about it. We still had our weekends at my
apartment--except for those times when there was something he had to do with
friends. And he was passionate as ever when falling into my arms the moment we
entered my apartment and the door closed behind us.

     However, I became aware that making love was the only time D surrendered
his all to me, when we were equal. It was the only time he willingly gave over
power to me, otherwise, he'd always kept something in reserve. I have
described him as `my' Dennis. But the reality is, he was on loan...he would
never belong to anyone but himself. And I was hurting and angry, jealous,
disappointed....I really don't know what I was besides miserable. But I tried
not to show it, I didn't want to force him to pretend to be something he was
not, or feel something he didn't. I didn't want him to resent me.

     The outside world began intruding on our private time as Maria began to
call D at my apartment on the weekends when he was with me. I was still
astonished at the explicitness with which they talked about sex and what they
planned to do with each other. Nice, sheltered, over-protected Maria who
attended an all-girls Catholic school taught by nuns could hardly wait to do
`it'. Sometimes D would put the phone to my ear while, unaware, she continued
talking, softly, sweetly, seductively, about what she wanted. I never knew
girls were like that. To this day Dennis and I have rarely `talked' sex with
each other. We just sort of did it.

     But Maria notwithstanding, I was still way more jealous of Rick. To this
day, I am not sure if he and Dennis ever did anything together...I suspect
not, and of course, I never asked. I don't think Dennis would have wanted to
start another relationship of that type. Aside from me, it seemed he was
mostly interested in girls at this time. However, D told me that Rick, when
staying over one night, asked information about the details of sex. It seemed
Rick was waking up every morning with his underpants full of wet, sticky
stuff. My suspicious side couldn't help wondering if that conversation wasn't
an excuse for Rick to get something going with Dennis. Rick was such a gentle,
innocent-looking boy--maybe I should have been ashamed to even entertain such
a thought--but I couldn't help it.

     "So what did you tell him?" I asked. At this point Dennis got shy, or
merely evasive, "I just told him...um...what's what.........and to ask his
mother if he wanted to know more."

     Damn....I've never written about this part of our relationship before. I
can't write anything else about it right now. But I will later. There's more
about Rome, Italy, and how Maria finally won.

(to be continued)