Date: Tue, 21 Jan 2003 18:12:44 -0500
From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com>
Subject: Terms Of Living - Chapter 10 Gay/Bi - A/Y

Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002 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.

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

Terms of Living
By Tom Cup
Chapter 10
Summons

Andrew and Gillian's closeness took me by surprise. All the animosity and
uneasiness of their initial meetings vanished beneath his rise to acolyte.
They would huddle together before service in conspiratorial whispers.
Gillian clung to him during Liturgy and Eucharist. For all intents and
purposes, he was the son she never had, and she was Maria Mater ^Ö his
ever-embracing mother. I envied their public embraces, the gregarious
laughter and seductive smiles they flash toward me before again erupting
into laughter. I was suspicious of their relationship, even jealous. Why was
it that a older woman could display public affection for a boy not related
to her, with hugs, kisses, and gentle unsolicited strokes of his back but a
man doing those same things was immediately suspect. It angered me. It
frustrated me. Gilliam was free in proclaiming her admiration for the boy,
something by social norms I was forbidden to do. I was jealous of this
feminine grace.

"It not about trust," Andrew explained, "I don't trust her anymore than I
trust a scorpion; and I don't believe for a minute that she loves me, but
she's fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, I can't explain it but the whole thing is fun."

"More like dangerous," I said somberly.

Andrew sighed, "John that's what makes it fun."

"Andrew, you need to understand that Gillian is ... practiced... yes, practiced
at this game. We are on her turf. Caution is the standard."

"I didn't say I was being stupid. I said I was having fun."

"And that is my point. We often abandon caution when we are having fun."

"OK, okay," Andrew giggled, plopping himself in my lap, "I'll be more
careful. I promise Papa John."

I laughed. It had been so long since he had called me that ^Ö Papa John. I of
course understood why he used the term, I was lecturing as one would a small
child. Andrew was no longer a child ^Ö indeed I wonder if he had ever been a
small child in the way one usually uses the term. His eyes danced as they
looked into mine. His smile was wet and sensual. I inhaled deeply. His
scent, like the damp musk of earth after a spring rain, invigorated my heart
and soul.

"What's wrong John?"

"I'm not sure Andrew. I don't really think that it is Gillian that is
bothering me. Not directly. But when I see you together, openly laughing,
hugging and generally carrying on, I feel a bit jealous. I wish that we had
that freedom."

"So do I, John. So do I."

I loved Connie. She was secure in that love even though we both withheld
public displays of affection. When one marries the love of their youth, one
takes much for granted. You assume that you will grow old together, that you
have an unlimited time to express your love for one another. I always
thought that Connie and I would be the old couple walking the beach, finally
holding hands, displaying our enduring love to the youngsters we pass. A
young girl would nudge her beau and ask, "Will you love me like that when I
am old?" We would be the example of abiding love, age permitting our public
display.

With Connie's passing, and Andrew as a constant reminder, I realized how we
are granted nothing. Of Andrew's love for me I was certain. But the thought
that our time together could come swiftly to an end, from unknown quarters,
abided. Would Gillian discover the truth ^Ö or merely suspect the truth ^Ö and
force our relationship to end? Would his every increasing entry into social
life separate us until one day we observed that we were no longer together?
Would I grow old and die, alone?

It had cost me a great stripping away of my former self to accept my love
for Andrew. Having done so, risking the social disgrace and penalty under
law if discovered, I wanted nothing more than to spend as much time with him
as possible. I hurt when we were apart.

How often does a man get to revisit his youth, with all the wonder of
discovery and uncertainty? As we grow older we become jaded. We settle into
the ritual of life, and in so doing settle for the comfortable. We call it
growing up. We call it stability, maturity, and adulthood. It is more
comfortable than the risk taking, wide-eyed experimentation, of youth. Young
people that abandon youth and adhere to the adult standards of living are
admired as "having their heads on straight," and as "people on the road to
success." That praise was enough for me to ignore the fine print, to ignore
the risk, of solely being an adult. Andrew reminded me that there were other
purposes to life other than being a grown-up, a respected member of society.
Life was to be lived, experienced and enjoyed ^Ö not to be looked back upon
with longing eyes.

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

"Joey Santangelo wants to know if I am going on the youth trip."

My mind groaned to think of Andrew becoming more involved with the church
but I quickly rebuked myself. I was again thinking jealously of the time I
would lose with his participation in other activities. He was, under
Gillian's sponsorship, becoming quite the socialite. Why deny him this time
of growth because of my needs?

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing really. I wanted to talk to you about it."

I smiled. "Well, will you be going?"

"I'm not sure really. But I think that I would like to go. I am becoming
fond of the kids in the group. It's nice having friends."

I nodded my understanding. Andrew had always been a loner. Now he was
respected in a social circle of his own. As an acolyte he had status. That
mixed with Gillian's fondness for him and his natural charm and confidence
had made him popular within the church youth group.

"You are becoming quite the social butterfly."

"Does it bother you John?"

"What?"

"I know it means we spend less time together but I do like it."

"I know Andrew. I wouldn't take it away from you if it meant all the world.
I want you to be happy."

"I am happy." I smiled. He nestled closer to me, his lips caressing my
cheeks. "I think Joey's gay too; at least I think he likes me."

What does one say? Do you express once more the fears harbored in your
heart? I smiled and patted Andrew on the back a few times.

"I only said I though he liked me," Andrew whispered, "I didn't say I was
going to do anything with him."

"I know. I'm sorry. Some of the old fears coming back, I suppose."

"What can I do to make you understand how much I love you?"

"Oh, Andrew. It's not you. I'm not sure if it's me entirely. It's life, the
world, the rules we have to abide. They wear me down sometimes."

"What would you do if we could do anything we wanted?"

"First, I would proclaim my love for you from the highest mountain. Then I'd
march you down the church aisle and marry you." The thought sent a
paralyzing tingle down my spine. I was still a man of conventions. I liked
the idea of `to death do us part' and the rites of marriage. I did not
believe that the ceremony itself guaranteed the survival of the union but it
did add a solemnest to the experience that said this vow is not easily
broken. I had dated before Connie and I married, while doing so there was
always the thought that this could be the one ^Ö the person that I ask to
share the rest of their life with me, for better or worse, richer or poorer,
in sickness and health, till death do us part. Solemn vows; vows made before
a community that pledges itself to aiding the couple in keeping their pledge
to one another ^Ö the vows and communal support that are denied homosexual
couples.

"You'd marry me?" Andrew asked, and I was surprised by his wide-eyed
amazement at my vocalization.

"Of course, in a heart beat, didn't you know that?"

"I knew that I would marry you, but well, you're a little old fashioned
John. I didn't think you were there yet."

"Andrew, you share my bed. We risk so much together. Why wouldn't I marry
you?"

"Because you're not gay."

"Oh, back to that again. Andrew, I am as gay as I can be."

He laughed and I laughed with him. It was enough talk for one night.

***********

I noticed Joey Santangelo the following Sunday. The boy decidedly had a
feminine quality about him. It was easy to see why Andrew suspected that he
was gay. Besides the way he moved, he hovered about Andrew ^Ö hanging on his
every word, fidgeting nervously and blushing if Andrew turned his attention
on him. Frankly, he reminded me of a schoolgirl in love.

He was slightly heavier than Andrew, though the weight appealed to him and
rounded him nicely. His fleshy cheeks were rosy, either of a constant blush,
or naturally, so I could not tell. His eyelashes were lush and lengthy. His
eyes were deep blue and often downcast, except when he looked longingly at
Andrew, and his hair a shimmering black.


I watched the group, Andrew the center of attention, chatter and laugh.
Andrew lightly touched each member, assuring them that he was aware of their
presence. He was a prince at court and I must admit that I was a little more
than proud.

"He's a wonderful boy."

Gillian's voice broke me from my contemplation. I felt chastised, like a
peeping Tom caught up a tree staring into the window by the owner of the
house.

"He is. And has grown so quickly."

My eyes stayed on Andrew but I was aware that Gillian had not moved her gaze
from me. It occurred to me that she might have been observing me for some
time. What assumption would she have had? I wasn't even sure I cared. I was
observing a boy under my care, watching his progression from adolescence to
manhood. What business was it of anyone else if I secretly loved him? What
business was it of Gillian's?

"You do love him, don't you?"

The question caught me off guard, not because of its suggestiveness but
because of the gentleness of the tone. There was something in Gillian's
voice that I recognized. A longing ^Ö not to be loved as she perceived that I
loved Andrew, but to love as I loved Andrew. I turned to observe her. She
smiled, but also blushed slightly. Gillian blushing? This indeed deserved
attention.

"Yes," I confessed, "with all my heart."

"You know John, you are a remarkable man and he is a remarkable boy. Thank
you for sharing him with us. Truly."

"You're welcome, Gillian. But I sense there is more here than meets the
eye."

"So do I John," she said wearily, "but let's talk no more of it now. Will
Andrew be going on the youth retreat?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Good, then perhaps that would be a good time for you and I to get together
and talk, when he's away."

She didn't wait for my response but immediately turned to speak to a young
couple passing by. My audience with the queen had ended. I had been summoned
to the palace.

************************************************************************
Send Comments to: comments@tomcup.com

To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, become a member of the Tom Cup
Library at: http://www.tomcup.com

Now Available, "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story" by Tom Cup. Ask for it at
Barnes and Nobles Booksellers, Borders Books, Amazon.com and your local
independent bookseller.