Date: Sun, 15 Mar 2015 19:38:11 -0600
From: Ken Duxbury <kenduxbury52@gmail.com>
Subject: His Twin Chapter 3

Chapter Foreword

Thank you for the kind remarks so far.  Very much appreciated!  I promise
things will get heavier into BDSM/etc later.  At this point in my life
things were relatively tame.  All the same legal stuff applies: If you're
not 18 or it is illegal where you live to be reading this, yada yada.  All
persons are of legal consent age, etc.  No part of this work may be copied,
redistributed, etc., without my (the author's) expressed, written consent.
I will try to post at least one chapter every couple weeks from now on, but
after some happenings I have decided it's best to move a few hundred miles
away from here.  So, be patient, I will appease you as quickly as possible.
Please feel free to email me with comments and questions.  PLEASE PLEASE
PLEASE DONATE TO NIFTY.  This is an awesome place to share stories,
erotica, and most importantly sentiments and feelings.

His Twin
Chapter 3

	I was headed west.  My little car at that time, a 1991 Ford Escort
(biggest P.O.S. I've ever owned) was loaded down with stuff that I would
want right away when I got back to Montana, and whatever I needed for the
trip.  I was leaving Maryland (where Fort Meade is located, just north of
DC) at that time of year when the Cherry Blossoms were in full bloom.  The
smells were amazing, so I opened my window to let the smell waft by.  I was
relatively certain that this would be the last time I would ever venture to
this part of the country, and I wanted to get one final taste and smell as
I thought heavily of Matt and the friendship I was leaving behind.  It was
bitter, but sweet at the same time.  No promises were made to write, no
internet widely used at that time (1995) for personal uses to keep in
contact, and to be quite honest, no real desire to keep in contact with him
either.  It was the end of a chapter of my life, and the beginning of a new
one.

	I had left relatively early that morning, and I kept a very steady
pace.  I had picked up Slim Fast shakes (Strawberry, of course), Mountain
Dew, and filled my thermos with coffee at the first stop that was well
outside DC, and a Styrofoam ice chest filled with ice to keep the shakes
and dew cold, then I was truly on my way.  That first day went by pretty
quick, with very few interesting things happening.  I stopped every couple
hours to use the restroom, whenever an interstate rest stop was available,
but I wanted to make good time.  I decided I would keep driving until I got
tired.  My thoughts were random, but I began thinking about Gary once more,
all day.

	Around 11 hours later, I finally stopped in a hole in the wall town
in Illinois (to which, I cannot remember for the life of me) for a few
hours' sleep.  The hotel was pretty nice, but nothing great.  Clean, in
those days, was "nice" to me.  The next morning, after about 5 hours of
sleep I was up and flying along I-70 again well before day break, and I
made it all the way to about 2 hours east of Denver, CO, before once more
stopping for the night.  The next morning, I got up around 4 am and got
back out on the road.

	I had considered spending some time in Denver, as I had lived there
when I was young.  I was thinking of spending a day, but instead I took a
quick route to the suburb that we had lived in, but then sped north after
realizing it was just too long of a time passage to remember where I had
lived those many years ago (I had been in 1st and 2nd grade).  I-25 was
beginning to get busy, but luckily not so much that I couldn't squeeze out
of there before any major jams.

	As I was traveling north, the weather started gradually getting
colder, with the wind nearly blowing me off the road all the way through
Wyoming several times.  I had stopped thinking about where I was coming
from and started thinking about where I was going.  It was only a few
years, but would Montana be like it was before?  At that stage in my life,
and the incredible experiences – both good and bad – I had, what
would my old home be like?  Would it still be "home"?  I would find out,
but not right away.

	Finally, that night, I pulled into Butte.  I was immediately struck
by how depressed the people I passed looked.  Fine lines etched faces of
people not much older than I.  There seemed to be an invisible, slate cloud
hanging over everything.  I could have swore it was a spiritual experience,
albeit a shockingly negative one.  I didn't remember it being like this.
The air smelled of old, stale, tainted dirt.  Funny how a few years and
developing an outsiders' perspective can put a new light (or lack thereof)
on a familiar place.

	My mother, having remarried by that point, had moved from Anaconda
to Butte (big move, I know, whole 26 or so miles), and I actually had no
idea where she lived.  I pulled into the first gas station I came across,
and called her house.  She told me where to go, and a few minutes later I
was pulling up to her house.

	The welcome was warm, but being so late I was ready for sleep and
she was ready to go back to sleep, so she showed me down to the daylight
basement where they had set up my old bed.  Saying goodnight and closing
the door, I stripped and was out so fast I'm not sure I was completely on
the mattress before I was asleep.

	I had slept until mid-morning the next day, and when I got up I got
my coffee and went outside to a very brisk April morning and immediately
went back inside.  You have to understand that from March through mid-June,
the weather in Montana can be something of a nightmare, one day up into the
40s, then the next down into the single digits.  As I was waking up, my mom
came back home.  We had a decent chat, about nothing really.  I was still
mostly in the closet, but there were certain questions being asked that I
wasn't terribly comfortable with at that point, so I evaded them as well as
I could.

	After that uncomfortable chat, I took a shower.  By the time I got
out, she was getting ready to head back to their office (they are business
owners in Butte, and I'm not going to mention which businesses as at
present day, I'm no longer affiliated with them and would prefer to leave
any details concerning the businesses out, save to say one is a bar), so I
told her I would see her that night.  I had decided to reacquaint myself
with some old friends that day.

	My first stop was a childhood friend that had remained a tried and
true friend named Loren.  As I pulled up to her mom's house and parked on
the street, I saw someone peeking out the window, and as I stepped out of
my car, she came running out yelling "Dux!!!!" (my nickname since
kindergarten), grabbing me in a hug.  I returned the hug.

	"When did you get in?"  She said.
	"Last night." I responded.
	"Wow, long drive"
	"Oh fuck it was.  Took me 3 days.  But, never mind that, how the
hell have you been ya dork?"  I laughed.
	"Great!  Great!  Come on in, and let's catch up!"

	We went into her house and sat at the breakfast bar, she poured us
each a cup of coffee, and I was starting to get kind of nervous through the
usual banter and talking about recent events in our lives.  Loren had
always been my best female friend, and I was reasonably sure that she would
be fine with what I was about to tell her, but there is always that nagging
doubt in the back of every gay man's mind, shouting at him about the
possibility of a confrontation of some sort.  Finally, after she had calmed
down enough, I decided to venture down that road.

	"Ok.  So, we have been best friends since 3rd grade, right?"
	"Yep" She confirmed.
	"Well, there's something I need to get out in the open with you."
	"Ok, shoot."
	"Loren..."  I paused, steeling my nerves.
	"Yeeeesssss?"  She drew out, kind of comically.
	"I'm gay."  I almost cringed, not sure of what her response really
would be.
	"Yeah.  I've known that for years, Dux."

	I just sat there, not entirely sure how to respond.  I think my
mind just got stuck for a minute.  It was replaying her last statement over
and over.  I finally recovered, and said

	"How the hell did you know?  I didn't even know!  Up until 4 years
ago, at least."
	"Really, Dux, it wasn't that hard to figure out.  How many proms
did you go to?  How about the Snow Ball?  And a complete lack of
girlfriends all the way through highs school when the most of the rest of
the guys wouldn't stop getting in every single crack they could find?  And
don't even get me started on your fascination with Madonna."  She paused
and looked at me.  "And, don't take this the wrong way...but your
mannerisms aren't exactly "butch" to be honest."

	I took a minute to digest this, and then asked "Was I really that
transparent?"
	"I'm not saying you're a flamer, but if a person looks at all of
that, it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion."
	"Well, it's been a strange ride ever since I started accepting
myself.  I'm still learning things, and I'm definitely not out.  Well, not
to many people, at least."

	"Have you told your mom?"  She asked, looking kind of concerned.
	"No.  Not yet.  But I imagine I'm going to have to very soon.  I
don't like to lie to her, and I really dislike having to skirt around and
evade a lot of the questions I got this morning."  I stated, looking down
at my coffee cup, all joy sapped out of me at that point.
	"Yeah.  It's better if you are just honest about who you are.  Even
if It's not easy.  You know?"  She said with empathy.
	"Yeah, I know.  I just know this isn't going to go that well."  I
said, the thought making my stomach lurch.
	"Well, look at it this way.  She loves you, right?"  I nodded.
"Well, then she should accept you for who you are, not who you sleep with."
I nodded again, but not emphatically.  "Plus, I know my mom will help you
if the worst circumstances come about.  You can crash here for however long
you need to."

	Just then, as if on cue.  "Dux!!!!"  Maxi (my pet name for her mom,
loved that woman) jogged in the front door.  I smiled, genuinely excited to
see her.  She was almost as close of a friend as Loren was to me.  I got up
and went over to her and gave her a huge hug, which she returned and patted
me on my back.  "How the hell are ya?  Looks like you've been taking care
of yourself!  Ready to sweep this one off her feet?"  She laughed as she
said that.

	I giggled kind of nervously, but Loren came to my rescue.  "Mom..."
she said with an exasperated tone.
	"Just givin you two hell.  So, who's hamster died?  That
conversation was serious, if your faces were any indication."  Maxi stated,
readying her assault of questions.
	"Well, it kind of was, Maxi.  You see..." I started, then looked at
Loren for support.  She nodded for me to continue.  "I'm gay."

	"What's new?"  Maxi stated bluntly.  I sat there gape mouthed, and
then looked at Loren.
	"Don't look at me, I didn't say shit to her."  Loren chuckled.

	It was obvious at that point that I wasn't the master of disguise
that I thought I was.  Yes, these two had known me for a large portion of
my life.  But I never let on about sexual impulses before.  As a matter of
fact, I kept them reined in so tight I wasn't aware of them myself.  Until
Gary came along.  Or at least I thought.

	Maxi assured me that everything would be alright, that even if the
worst were to come, I would have a roof over my head until I got my own
place situated.  That thought, and knowing that these two women that I
cared deeply for were rooting for me, brightened my mood considerably.  We
started laughing and reminiscing about times past.  Like the time that
Loren and I had earned detention in 3rd grade for not shutting up when told
to.  We were kept in for recess all day that day, but we ended up having an
even better time.

	I had decided it wasn't fair that we had received the detention (of
sorts), so I went into the teachers closet and dragged out those cheap old
roller skates that they carried at school.  Loren and I proceeded to roller
skate up and down the halls throughout lunch recess, then back to the room
before the bell sounded to get the students back in.  We had a blast!  It
was, without a doubt, more fun than anything outside!  We put the roller
skates back and closed the closet door, then went back to our desks and
acted as if we were truly pissed at having to have sat there the entire
lunch hour.  Memories like that are a so very few and far between, and I
was certainly lucky to have a friend to have made them with.  Especially
one that would not judge me for the simple fact that I was genetically
programmed to like other men.

	We sat there for 3 hours, Loren Maxi and I, chatting about this or
that.  They asked me if I had a boyfriend.  I couldn't help it, remember
Gary right away, and a small tear formed as I remember all the amazing,
fun, sensual and hot times I had with him.

	"Not now.  But I did, when I was stationed in the UK.  He was
amazing, and I feel lucky to have met him."  I told them.  Loren reached
over and squeezed my forearm, and Maxi brought the coffee pot over and
refreshed us all, giving me a pat on the back and a knowing smile.  They
let it go at that, apparently deciding that I would either discuss it at a
later date when my nerves weren't so frazzled, or not discuss it at all.

	The rest of our catch up chat was pretty much filled with telling
me about this and that business closing, and what all of our old gang was
up to.  It brought back both good and bad memories.  I gave Loren and Maxi
my mom's phone number, and we made some tentative plans for lunch and
whatnot, then I told them I should get back to Butte and find out what my
mom and her husband were doing for dinner.  A few hugs later, and I was
driving back through the old town and back onto the interstate to Butte.

	As I drove, I thought how well that had went.  I wanted to test the
waters here, see what acceptance would be like.  Given, Loren and Maxi were
probably the least judgmental people I had ever known, but I figured they
would be a good starting point.  A point I could use to bolster my courage
with some relatively easy success.

	Montana for the most part isn't known for an accepting and tolerant
attitude, Butte especially.  I knew there would be many stepping stones
that would likely plunge down on me.  But I was hoping my family would be
able to see past their religion to at least try to accept me.  Blind hope?
Maybe.  I decided to play my hand close for a couple days, and try to meet
some new people.  Only problem was, how the hell was I supposed to meet
people here?  Gay people.  Were there many?

	I got back to the house early evening, and I called down to the
office.  Mom and her husband were just finishing up for the day and asked
me to meet them at their bar, then we would go out to eat.  The evening
went kind of slow, and by 7pm it was either go back to their bar after
dinner with them or head out and see what was around.  I decided to do the
later.  After a few unsuccessful inquiries and some strange looks and "fag"
comments as I was leaving this bar or that, I gave up and went home,
actually ready for bed early that night.

	I awoke the next morning, feeling like I had made a horribly wrong
choice going back to Montana.  I was moody and snippy.  This continued for
a few days, until my belongings arrived from Ft. Meade.  They gave me an
excuse to just sit and think for a while.  I thought about various things;
Gary, Matt, Sean, the UK (I definitely pined to go back there, but for more
than the memories...) being foremost.  I busied myself for most of the day
with that, and when I was done I decided check out a bar called the Silver
Dollar that I had overheard someone saying "that's where all the fags go".

	I got to the bar in the evening after having dinner with my family.
It was getting busy, as it was a Friday night.  I pulled up a seat and
asked for a vodka cranberry.  The bartended, who I would later learn is a
self-hating gay man named Rick, gave me a sneer and made my drink, mumbling
something about `foo foo drinker', whatever the fuck that is.  I handed him
a five dollar bill, to which I didn't get any change, and thought that was
quite steep for a well vodka and cranberry juice in this town (most places
would charge maybe, and I mean maybe two fifty for that...cheap town to
drink in, and that's about it's only benefit, if you want to call that a
benefit) but I just decided to give him a raised eyebrow and not say
anything.  After a few minutes of sitting there sipping on my drink and
looking around observing the locals, I decided that Butte would not be a
town I would be getting laid in anytime soon.

	First, the guys were very cliquish, sitting in their own little
groups.  That's understandable, but when this or that group would stare at
me as a whole, to which I would nod and smile, they would not return a nod
and smile (or anything remotely resembling friendliness, for that matter)
and turn back to whatever discussion they were having.  Which, to be
honest, didn't hurt my feelings.

	Second, they were on the average a very uninteresting and ugly lot.
You can, at times, look at a person and tell that they are ugly on the
inside and that reflects in their outward appearance.  The bartender, for
example.  He was balding, and with the hair combed over his bald spot.  He
had a very old looking, uninspired shirt and was wearing baggy jeans.  His
shoes were scuffed up running shoes, and judging from the spare tires
around his waist and jowl flaps I doubted the runners were ever used once
for their intended purpose.  His eyes were small, piggish affairs, and he
stunk.  That example could be used for every single man in this bar, even
if their physical appearance wasn't distasteful outwardly.

	After looking the crowd over, I sighed heavily and decided to have
one more drink and escape this place.  When the bartender/owner finally,
and lazily, made his way back over to me I asked for a Mai Tai.  His sneer
deepened (that seemed to be a common expression in this town) and said "So,
another foo-foo drink?" as he grabbed a glass, making the people within ear
shot chuckle.

	That was it for me.  I verbally laid into the son of a bitch.  He
didn't know me from Adam, who the fuck was he to judge me?  As he was
making the drink, I started in.
	"You know, first you severely over charged me for a weak, crappy
drink.  You have been rude and to be quite honest, you're not even remotely
good looking enough to have the kind of attitude you do."

	He slid the drink over to me and said "That will be seven fifty."
With half a snarl.
	"Keep your fucking drink, I wouldn't put another penny toward your
grave, dick head."  I said as I got up and marched out.
	He flipped out as I was walking away, screaming after me.  "You're
86'd!"
	I half turned as I got to the door.  "And you're an ugly, fat,
self-hating gay man with no fashion sense.  Good bye, fuck face." I said as
I opened the door, walked out and let it slam shut.

	A younger guy, maybe a tad bit older than my 23 years, was walking
to the bar as I casually walked to my car.  He stopped and said "hi".  I
smiled at him tightly, but as warmly as I could.  He was cute.  Dark
shorter hair that was decently cut, nice leather jacket, slimmer frame and
around six foot.  Pleasing features.
	"Leaving so soon?"
	"Bartender is a dick head.  So yeah."  I flatly stated.
	"Rick must be working."  He laughed.
	"Well, come back in...I'll make it a bit better for you."
	"Thanks, but no.  I think I'm done...don't like the scene in this
town."
	"Well, there's a new bar opening next weekend, down on the flats.
It's on Harrison Avenue, called "Snookums"."
	"Hmmm.  I'll be there."
	"Awesome, they are having a cook out for their opening, and I know
a few of the younger guys here going."  He flashed a nice smile.
	"Maybe I'll see you there, then."  I said and smiled back at him.

	I hung out with Loren the rest of the weekend.  She had a booth at
a local beauty shop, so I stopped in around noon on Saturday and we had
lunch.  I told her about my experience at the "Silver Dollar", noting that
the silver was highly tarnished.  She got a big kick out of it, and when I
mentioned the younger guy walking in as I left, she started grilling me.  I
just calmed her down and said I didn't know anything, but possibly that
following weekend, as a new bar was opening.

	"Oh!  I heard about that and was going to tell you!" she excitedly
told me.
	"Yeah, I think I might go.  Maybe there will be a slightly
different crowd.  I have to say, Loren, I was severely under impressed with
the crowd last night.  I didn't see one person that looked like he took
care of himself at all, or even remotely cared about his appearance."
	"I thought the younger guy was cute?" She stated.
	"Yeah.  He was.  Not sure if he's my type...we'll see."
	"You could have pretty much anyone you want, Dux."
	"Bleh.  I don't deal that way anymore, Loren.  I'm not stuck on
myself.  Only thing I'm `stuck on', so to speak, is that the guy has to
care enough about himself to keep himself in shape.  It's not about looks,
honestly.  I mean, really...how could someone truly care about someone
else, if they aren't interested enough in their own health to take care of
themselves?"  I honestly asked.
	"So...if an overweight guy were to come along, with a good
personality, you wouldn't have anything to do with him?" She honestly
asked.
	"I didn't say that, necessarily.  As far as that is concerned, I
can only say that the chances of me being attracted to him would be
smaller.  I know it sounds conceited, Loren, but really the reasons behind
it aren't."  I started my explanation.  She nodded for me to continue.
"Think about it.  And put yourself in my place.  What if you got to know
this person, and they were the love of your life?  Wouldn't you want that
person to at least respect themselves enough to take care of themselves?"
I paused.
	"Well, yes..."  She answered.
	"Wouldn't you want the "love of your life" to be around for as long
as possible, be healthy, and be able to share more with you?"
	"Definitely, yes.  That would go without saying."
	"Well, obesity causes many health problems.  So, yes, I shy away
from them.  But it's not because I think I'm better than them."

	She nodded and agreed.  The conversation took an upbeat turn after
that, and we finished our lunch and went shopping.  I loved spending time
with her again.  She always had a way of making a bad or serious situation
bearable.  We finished up, then drove over to her place.  She asked if I
could spend the night and have dinner with her and Maxi, and I happily said
yes.  Things were kind of tense already at my mom's place, so this was a
welcome break.

	I had frequent bits of silence that night, thinking about how I was
going to approach the subject of my sexuality and tell my mother.
"Something wrong?"  Asked Maxi, as Loren gave me a hard look.
	"No.  Just thinking."  I replied honestly.
	"Ah.  Ok.  Well, if something is bothering you, I'm here to talk."
Maxi.  That wonderful woman.  But I wasn't quite clear with my thoughts
yet, so I just held them, trying to be a bit more talkative.

	After a wonderful dinner and a couple movies, I just crashed on the
couch and they went to bed, offering me the guest room but I said the couch
was plenty comfortable.  The next morning, after a few cups of coffee and
some heart to heart discussions about "being safe" (this was Montana, and
not necessarily a safe haven for gay men after all), I promised to meet
Loren for lunch later that day and went back to my mom's place to shower
and change.

	"Well, nice to finally see you getting home."  My mother said
sarcastically as I walked in.
	"I told you I was watching movies at Loren's and staying there for
the night."  I said.
	"Yeah.  Well, we have a busy day today, there's a lot going on!
And I have to go to church!  When is the last time you went??"  My mom.
Drama Queen.
	"And how does me staying at my friends' place effect that?  And you
know I don't go to church anymore, mother."  I said with a bite to my tone,
warning her.
	"It just does!  And you should!  How are you going to get into
heaven??"  She practically yelled at me.
	I rolled my eyes, and stared at her hard, tempting her to keep it
up.  "Well, I couldn't know how, but whatever.  Look, I'm going to shower
and get dressed.  Is there something specific you want?"  I said, getting
angry.  I didn't appreciate the tone, or accusation that I was somehow
messing up her life by spending time with my oldest of friends.
	"No."  She said as she stormed out.

	I just sighed and went about my morning.  Later that day, I met
with Loren again.  She had the day off as beauty shops around here are
closed on Sundays and Mondays.  We had another good discussion, once again
turning serious.

	"So, have you talked to your mom yet?"  She inquired.
	"About what?"  I asked back innocently, but knowing `about what'.
	Heavy sigh.  "Dux, you know `about what'.  It's going to come out
one way or another.  You know that."  She said, slightly exasperated.
	"I know.  I'm thinking of talking to her tomorrow.  Although I
don't know quite what to say."  I admitted.
	"Just tell her.  Don't mince words.  Be honest and get it over
with.  I could see last night, Dux.  This is starting to eat at you, and
it's not healthy to keep things in."  Loren stated bluntly.
	"Yeah.  You're right.  Tomorrow."  I said as she smiled and nodded.

	The next morning I got up, showered and dressed early.  After a
couple cups of coffee, I told my mom I needed to have a chat with her.  We
sat down at the kitchen table, and I stared at her for a minute before
starting in.
	"Mom, we need to have a discussion about a couple things."
	"I know you're probably unhappy about yesterday morning..." she
started in.
	"Well, yes, that's one thing we need to discuss."  I said, trying
to keep my voice level and diplomatic.  "I'm not a child anymore, mother.
You don't tell me where I go and what I do, and what time to be home.  You
have no control over that, and you need to start respecting me as an
adult."  I said, again with the most even, non-offensive tone I could
muster.
	"We just have busy lives here.  And I can't be running around
looking for you..."
	That pissed me off, but biting back my temper, I stated flatly
again "Mother, you need to respect me as an adult."
	"Well, I can't see you that way.  You live under this roof, and you
need to do as I say."
	"This isn't going anywhere.  I wouldn't agree to that, under any
circumstance.  I don't intrude on your life, at all, mother."  I contested
hotly.  And with my ire up, I continued.  "I also need to tell you that I'm
gay."

	I swear the silence was so heavy I could have heard a pin drop in
the next county.  She just sat there, mouth halfway open, staring at me
like she had never seen me before.  Then she got up, put her cup in the
sink, got her coat and walked out the door.

	That reaction had actually surprised me a great deal.  I had
expected tantrums, yelling and screaming.  But just silence and walking
away?  This was odd.  My stomach started churning and I went down and sat
on my bed for an hour thinking. I decided to call Loren.  "Come over." She
said as I told her what happened.

	When I got to Loren and Maxi's, I saw our other friend's car
sitting in the driveway too.  Jarred.  He was one year behind us in school,
and his brother was in our class but neither Loren nor I had much to do
with that asshole.  Jarred was a completely different story.  Meek and
mild, but with a spunk to his personality that made him fun to be around
when you really got to know him.  I parked my car behind Maxi's and went
in.

	The three of them had a look on their face like they just went to a
funeral, so I knew something had happened, but I wasn't sure what.  "Come
in Dux."  Maxi said in a soft voice.

	"Hey Jarred, good to see you."  I said warmly, trying to wipe the
confused and concerned look off my face that had been on there since my
interaction with my mother earlier.
	"Hey, Dux.  Good to see you too."  He said warmly.
	"Well, things didn't go so well with my mom, but not as bad as I
thought..." I lamented.
	"Worse than you think, Ken."  Maxi said.  I knew something was up.
She almost never used my given name.  "Jarred, go ahead..."
	"Your mom called my mom.  From what she said, your mom was
hysterical with rage."  He said as my eyes grew wide.  He continued.
"Apparently I'm the one that made you gay.  And she's getting a restraining
order to bar us from seeing you."  My mouth dropped.  Actually, if it
weren't for me being in the situation, I think I would have been on the
floor hearing something like that, laughing my ass off.  But this wasn't,
at the time, funny at all.

	How the fuck did she think she was going to accomplish that?  I
wondered.  Then I said it aloud.  "What the hell is she thinking?  She
can't do that, and they'll laugh her out of the police station and court
house when – if – she tries.  I'm not a minor anymore, for fucks'
sake!"  I said, incredulous and angry.
	"We know.  Look, Dux, you know we're here for you.  This isn't
going to be easy, but we will get through this."  Loren spoke finally.
	"I knew she was going to go ballistic...but this is insane."  I was
wondering what other crazy shit she was doing right now, and stated that
too.  Then the phone rang.  We looked at each other, Maxi sighed and
answered it.  I heard her voice on the other end, standing across the room.
She was practically screaming, and Maxi pulled the phone away from her ear
with a grimace and handed it to me.  I took it, not putting it to my ear
right away.  I waited for it to go silent, then spoke into the phone.
	"Look, mother..."  I started.
	"Kenny...we can fix this.  I talked to the priest today.  We can
get you fixed, and you will be just fine.  I already made the appointment
with Dr. Long.  It's called conversion therapy, and it works!"  She said,
and I sensed a bit of lunacy in her voice.  Right then and there, I knew
that there wasn't a god.  At least one that didn't involve itself in the
affairs of humans.  My mother wanted me to go to conversion therapy.
	"Mother, that's insane..."
	"It works, Kenneth."  She said angrily.
	"No, mother, it doesn't work.  What it does is fucks people's minds
up, and there is scientific..."
	"Don't talk to me about science!!" she bellowed through the phone.
	"Mother, there is no chance in hell of me putting myself through
that kind of bullshit.  I'm gay.  I was born this way.  Accept it!"  I
yelled back.
	"Well, you don't have a choice!  I'm going to talk our lawyer and
make you!"
	"Go ahead."  I started laughing through tears and hung up.

	Of course, the threat was bullshit.  Over the course of the next
couple months, she finally backed off, but wouldn't relent entirely.  I
know she still wants me to go to this day, although I've grown much more
resilient to the drama that she constantly espouses and generally ignore
the pleading to "find god", as it were.  I found a small, furnished house
to rent after bouncing around for a couple days after that phone
conversation, and decided to get myself out of my mothers.  I hadn't
intended on staying there long anyway, and I think she was just happy to
see me go.  Let her "find god" all she wanted, but I had to be away from
it.  I only had infrequent visits with her, which honestly didn't bother me
in the least.

	I'm somewhat jaded, to this day, when it comes to drama.  I try
very hard not to let others effect my life, after dealing with what I now
call `the conversion therapy incident'.  It's easier, and far less
stressful to compartmentalize my emotions when other people try to drag me
into their problems.  Dealing with my family at that time (yes, she decided
to get every last fucking one of them in on it, uncles, aunts,
grandparents, etc.) actually made me stronger.  I wasn't about to have
those that I deemed schizophrenic in their ideals tell me that my life was
wrong, in any way.  I think they finally saw what they were doing and
decided that they weren't getting anywhere.  Maybe it was too much of a
hassle for them.  Or, maybe they were more concerned with loving a book and
an imaginary friend than they were with loving someone of their own flesh
and blood.  That disturbed me at first.  But, I started realizing the
freedom it gave me.  I could start to feel good about myself again, and
knew that I was worthwhile.  And I didn't need them in my life to do so.

	I did go to Snookum's grand opening that following Friday.  It left
an enormous amount to be desired.  Once again however, it was cheap to
drink.  I didn't see that younger guy from outside the one ill-fated visit
to the Silver Dollar.  But, I did see the same ugly personalities there
that I did at the Dollar, so it became a place I only infrequently ventured
to.  On occasion I would meet people that weren't so ugly inside, and made
a few acquaintances.  Of course, finding out that I went there – even
once – gave my mother an apoplectic fit.  I actually enjoyed that, to
some extent.

	Neil and Josh were a gay couple that I had met at Snookums that
were some of the notable exceptions to the usual Butte-ugly-on-the-inside
syndrome that plagued that town.  They were delightful men.  Neil was in
his 50s, balding and somewhat plump, but his personality, charm and whit
made me feel like a million dollars anytime I was around him.  Josh was
quiet and reserved, but a very warm person to talk to whenever I needed a
friend.  He never minced his words, and always gave me the brutal, honest
truth.  What more could a friend ask for?  I returned the favor, happily.
Nothing sexual ever happened between us, but a bond formed that could not
be separated.  It was most certainly love, as I definitely loved these two
men with all my heart, but it was the love of brothers.

	I had, over the past few years while I was living abroad, become
less and less hypocritical and more aware of how my actions and words
positively and negatively impacted people.  The irony that my rejection of
religion coincided with this change wasn't lost on me either.  I was
thankful for Loren and Maxi over the support, guidance and kind words that
they gave me.

	Jarred, well he was another story.  I had no sexual attraction to
him.  I was sure that he was gay, and while he was a nice enough guy and
decent looking, he was just not my type.  We would all still hang out, and
I would occasionally get the feeling that he had some sexual tension
concerning me, but I did my best to smooth it over with friendly,
non-sexual banter.  I think, for the most part he understood.

	Over the next several months, my life became pretty dull.  Aside
from Loren and Maxi, or Neil and Josh, I really stayed to my own.  I hadn't
had sex the entire time.  Not only did I just never run across anyone that
was physically, emotionally or intellectually appealing to me.  It also
didn't help that Montana winters last so damned long.  Expect cold and/or
snow from October (sometime September) through until at least May
(sometimes June).  Yes, I'm most certainly a fair weather person.

	This, along with my family situation at that time, contributed to
me falling into a relatively deep depression, with physical side effects.
The first month, I started having problems maintaining an erection during
masturbation.  I started exploring new ways of pleasing myself.  Then I
started having problems getting an erection at all.  I was declining, and I
knew it.  I had to do something to reverse this, I thought to myself over
and over.  Something needed to change before I completely broke.

	The desolation was immense.  No matter where I looked, I saw down
trodden expressions.  Faces that would smile only if it was due to alcohol
or gambling.  It's hard to describe the complete, utter miasma that this
area can cast a person into.  You would have to experience it for yourself.
It is really and truly very, very saddening.

	On New Years Eve of that year, I made the decision to move to Las
Vegas.  Neil and Josh were moving there, and had extended an invitation to
me.  Neil, with his fatherly wisdom, had sat me down one day at his kitchen
table.
	"Honey, you really need to think about getting out of here."  Neil
bluntly stated.  "You're lonely, it's so painfully obvious that it hurts us
just looking at you."  He couldn't have been more correct.  "You won't find
anyone around here, Ken.  You should have been able to figure that out for
yourself by now."
	"I have been Neil, and I have figured that out, but I'm not sure
where to go.  I know I want to go to a larger area, but I just haven't been
able to make up my mind.  You know about my..." I pause.  I had told both
him and Josh about my physical problems. "...lack of exuberance.  I feel
like if I don't get away from here, I'm going to be consumed until there is
nothing left of me."  Neil nodded sadly in response, and took my hand
across the table in his.
	"Well, we are leaving next month.  You are welcome to join us, and
I've found an apartment that is easily large enough for us.  You really
need to leave here, honey."  He patted my hand and released it.  I nodded.
"Let me know by the first week of January and I'll get you on the lease as
well."  My eyes misted up, and I got up, went behind him as he remained
seated, and gave him the warmest hug I could muster.
	"Thank you, Neil."  I whispered.

	I went to Snookums that New Years Eve, and after I got my drink and
sat at the bar, gazing out the window at the lights illuminating the snow
falling, I knew where I was going.  I had given it a considerable amount of
thought before the 31st, and as I took the first sip of my first drink that
evening, I decided it was time to leave Butte behind.

	On the following Monday, January 2nd, I woke up at 7, showered and
shaved, then headed over to my landlord's place.  He invited me in, and
over a cup of coffee, I explained what was going on, that I had decided it
was time to move.  I would be there through the end of January, and he
decided that it was close enough to the end of the six month lease to let
me out of the rest of it without penalty.  I thanked him and excused myself
quickly.  I turned in my notice at work so I could be done by the 15th of
January, then returned home and started packing what little I had.  For the
next three and a half weeks I pretty much lived off of take out and paper
plates.

	I helped Neil and Josh pack their place up in my spare time, then
watched as they pulled out on the first Monday of the second week of
January.  I spent a lot of time with Loren and Maxi over the next two
weeks.  I wanted to let them know just how much their support and kindness
had meant to me.  I even spent a little bit of time, although tense, with
my family.  Two nights before I left, Loren and Maxi had a going away
dinner for me.  We watched movies that night, and I stayed at their place
once again, happily dozing on that big, comfortable couch.

	Knowing I would need a different vehicle with lower mileage for the
move, I started looking around.  I found a 1989 GMC pickup with 10,000
miles on it (it had sat in a garage for over 5 years, completely unutilized
and on blocks), copper colored, for sale by private owner just a couple
days prior, and after giving the elderly lady a small deposit and assurance
that I was serious, I quickly set out to sell the unwanted car.  I put a
`for sale' sign in the window and parked it at work, and that evening a
woman called, looking for a car for her son's first vehicle.  Within 3 days
I was the owner of my GMC pickup.

	I left Butte on the morning of January 30th, at 5 am, with no
fanfare.  I hadn't expected any.  Everything packed into the bed of the
pickup with a tarp protecting it, I took one final look at the little house
I had rented and felt no remorse.  I promised myself that I wouldn't come
back here, and if I did, it would be for a very short amount of time, as I
backed out of the driveway and put my pickup in drive.  I felt my spirits
lift as soon as I got on I-90 west, then took the exit for I-15 south just
outside of the town.  It only took me two hours to hit the Montana/Idaho
border on the south bound interstate, and after I was a few yards over the
border, I looked in the mirror and sighed happily as that hated border sign
disappeared as I sped toward my next destination.

Chapter 3 End

Authors thoughts:

I had originally intended to write both my experiences in Montana and
Nevada as one chapter.  However, after the length of the Montana
experience, and all of the negativity in that period of my life, and the
drastic difference when I moved south, I felt like I needed to keep them
separate.  Will I overcome my physical problem?  Next chapter is Las Vegas.
Sin City.  And I do believe it was given that name in honor of me.  :) Not
really, but it was a long period of my life and it definitely, without a
doubt, deserves its own chapter.  Also, I will be finishing my move this
week, so the next chapter is possibly 2 weeks out.  I haven't even begun to
edit it yet, so please be patient.  Also also, I apologize for the complete
lack of erotica in Chapter 3.  I couldn't even bring myself to write some
in as fantasy – it would have completely misrepresented how depressed
and depressing that town is, and the effect it had on me.  If you don't
believe me, feel free to visit it some time, but be forewarned.