Date: Wed, 25 Oct 2000 18:20:12 -0700
From: David Cross <dcross1@home.com>
Subject: the-dance-of-death 3

I accidentally left off the disclaimers in the second part - but you know
the drill. If you're reading this and it's not legal for you to do so, or
you don't want to, then by all means close your browser window.

Dear readers: I trust that you are, hopefully, still with this story. It's
not your usual college romance, obviously - however, there are elements of
life, and death, metaphorically, taking place in the story. Ah, but it
isn't my place to do the interpretation for you. Please read on...

The Dance of Death - Part 3
===========================

As the bus made the final leg of the journey up the hill to Simon Fraser
University, I reflected on the last couple of weeks. I had definitely made
progress in recovery from that horrible night. I still occasionally
succumbed to crying jags, but the last couple of days had been good. After
that night when I needed Jonathan to hold me before I would sleep, I only
needed him to hold me for about a week afterwards, and then I began
sleeping on the couch, and not minding it too badly.

Later in August, we had decided to relocate to a two-bedroom apartment that
had become available in the same building, and I acquired a futon at a
store, against the day when I would be able to buy a real bed. Since I had
few possessions, moving was simply a matter of picking up all of Jonathan's
stuff and carting it down one floor. That had still taken us a whole day.

I got off the bus and made my way to the cafeteria, after noting that I had
about fifteen minutes to kill before my first organic chemistry lab of the
semester. I bought a hot chocolate, and savored the warmth it brought
me. As I walked out of the cafeteria, I noticed the poster board which had
the usual run of used textbooks and cars for sale as well as Student
Society announcements. At the bottom was a small poster which said "OUT ON
CAMPUS - First meeting Tuesday at 4:30 PM!" with the room location and
obligatory pink triangle at the bottom. I made a mental note to go, and
then proceeded to the organic lab.

=-=-=-=

I sat down for lunch, my brain whirling with the deluge of lab safety
procedures, basic precautions in handling common organic solvents, the
standard format for lab reports, and so on. I felt reasonably confident
that I wouldn't lose my nerve and fail out in this semester. Academically,
I guess I was set.

I picked at my lunch, and I reflected that the same "problem" I'd
experienced with Jonathan, being mentally attracted to a guy but
experiencing no corresponding physical response, was recurring. I'd look at
a cute guy and... nothing. I would _know_ he was cute, mentally, but there
would no physical reaction whatsoever. I worried that if I did someday meet
a guy who wouldn't ever lay a hand on me in anger and who I felt was
trustworthy and special enough to let into my life, I'd lose him to a guy
who could get it up. Life sucked sometimes.

After having stood in line for well over 45 minutes, and finally getting
into the bookstore so I could buy textbooks, selecting books, and enduring
another half hour wait to bring them to the cashier, I was dead on my
feet. I staggered out of the bookstore, and had already made the decision
to go to the bus stop and go back to the apartment when I realized I wanted
to be at the "Out on Campus" meeting. So off I staggered to the designated
room, only to arrive and curse when I realized I'd gotten there about half
an hour early. I sat down anyway and pored over the textbooks to get an
idea of what the professors in my courses would expect this semester.

=-=-=-=

It was nearing 5 pm, and the "Out on Campus" meeting was mostly filled with
introductions, a quick summary of the formation of the group, and
discussion of some events the group leaders would be hosting, or
participating in. "Club Day", for example, was to happen next week, where
all the different student clubs would set up tables in one area, and flog
their pamphlets.

The head of the group, a guy named Robert who was perky with a ready smile,
was winding down. "So if there are no more questions, shall we all meet
here again next Tuesday?" A murmur of assent went around the room. "See you
all later, then!"

I didn't see any reason to stick around, but I noted with amusement that
two fairly cute guys who happened to be sitting next to each other a couple
of seats down from me gave each other looks that suggested a new
relationship was forming, or at least a one-night stand. I headed to the
bus stop, and dug in my pocket for change...

=-=-=-=

The days flew by, filled with appropriately professorial lectures about
thermodynamics, organic molecules, electromagnetism, and general
chemistry. Equally appropriate was the presumption that for each professor,
the only class that mattered was his or her class. The homework thus
assigned reflected this.

By Friday, I could have sworn I had already been assigned enough homework
to keep a legion of high school students sweating for the next decade. So
much for having a social life. Though, frankly, it gave me the excuse I
needed to not have one, anyway. What was the point of going out if the guy
you met might brush you off if all he wanted was a one-night stand and you
weren't interested in such shallow encounters?

On Sunday night, Jonathan looked over at me, where I was putting the final
equations down for the question set I had to finish in electromagnetism. I
was so engrossed in making sure I hadn't punched a number wrong on the
calculator that he had to speak twice before I heard him.

"Hey, Daniel, yoo hoo!" Jonathan was sitting opposite me at the table.

"Oh, uh, yeah?"

"You know you've been sitting there for three hours today? And you sat at
that table for four hours yesterday, too! I was starting to think you'd
feel more at home with a few cobwebs." He grinned.

I saucily replied, "Oh, I'm old and creaky, am I?"

"Fine, Monsieur le Chef will not make dinner for you tonight, then."

"Fine then, Mr. Snooty. I'll just eat cold Ravioli." I gave him a
mock-injured look and he busted up laughing.

"Seriously, I know you've been eating well, but the last few days you've
been slipping. You only ate the rice from the sushi dinner I made last
night - I had to finish all the sushi rolls myself. And Friday night, I
think you just had the chicken bouillon I made and that was it - no
breakfast or lunch. Is something bothering you?"

I sighed. "Part of it's this homework - it's getting me down. But I'm also
trying not to think about other things too much and I'm not being all that
successful."

Concern showed as Jonathan leaned forward to gaze at me. "Do you want to
elaborate?"

"Well, I should tell you something I haven't said before because I didn't
want to make you worry even more. I'm... I'm just not really interested in
guys right now, and I don't really want to get involved with one. That's
bothering me, because on the other hand, I miss that kind of
companionship."

"I wish I could help you there, but I can't." Was it my imagination, or did
Jonathan get a little nervous? Unbidden, a thought rose to my mind that he
might have a slight case of closetitis.

"It's good of you to be concerned about me, though. I haven't even said one
word to my parents in two months and I'm doubtful they would be that
sympathetic. Christmas is going to seriously suck this year." I knew I
looked as dejected as I felt.

"Well, there's always here. We could put up a Christmas tree with, dare I
say, pink frills."

At that, a smile cracked my face. "Or we could put a rainbow theme on
it. Maybe even tubes of lube instead of candycanes, eh?"

That got Jonathan going. He grinned widely and put up his hands in
mock-surrender and said, "I know when I've been out-joked and
outmaneuvered. Monsieur le Chef will now begin dinner." True to his word,
he stood up, and began a sumptuous feast of what turned out to be an
excellent steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables combination.

=-=-=-=

The following Tuesday, I was once again seated in the meeting room where
"Out on Campus" was situated. I looked around the room and noted a few more
arrivals than there had been last time. Perhaps fifteen people altogether
showed up this time around.

Robert began the meeting. "Hi, everyone. I hope you all have had a pleasant
week, or not, as the case may be, settling into your routines as
students--" he broke off suddenly as a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty in a
dark green long-sleeved shirt and snug-fitting jeans burst into the
room. He exclaimed, "Sorry I'm late! Did I miss anything?" He looked
appealingly at Robert who smiled, shook his head no, and gestured to a free
seat... which happened to be to my left.

Robert continued: "Now, as I was about to say, I see that there are some
more of you here than last time, which is good. Can we quickly do the round
of introductions? I'll only make you guys do this once more next week, then
we'll just make the new arrivals introduce themselves." The roll call
droned on, and I paid scant attention.

I was startled by the sudden announcement to my left. "Hi. I'm Jeffrey, and
I'm a first-year student in political science." Now that I had a chance to
see and hear him up close, I did a quick evaluation. Approximately 6 feet
tall, with bright blond hair, medium blue eyes, and a wiry frame that left
little to the imagination. He had a nice voice, too. You could see
intelligence in those eyes, but also a certain naivete. Come to think of
it, almost everybody who I saw up close, even Jonathan, had that naivete to
a degree. Some more than others.

It was my turn. "Hi. I'm Daniel, and I'm a second-year student in
chemistry." And so it went, around the room.

A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my brown study again. It was
Jeffrey, sporting an unforced grin, and holding out his hand for me to
shake. He said, "Hi." I hesitated almost imperceptibly, and extended my own
hand as well as a return greeting. I felt a strange kind of heat emanating
from his hand. It was as though there was a mutual exchange of energies
when our hands touched. I felt uncertain, and vaguely uneasy; yet I also
felt an unconditional acceptance from Jeffrey. I released my grip as
quickly as courtesy allowed, and smiled briefly.

Robert was resuming the spiel. "Now, Club Day is on Thursday, and I'd like
to ask for volunteers to man the booth, even if it's just for an hour or
so." He looked around the room expectantly.

Jeffrey was the first to raise his hand. Without quite knowing why I did, I
raised mine also. A few other peoples' hands also were in the
air. "Good. We have six volunteers. If you all can go for two-hour shifts,
in groups of two, then we can cover six of the eight hours. Do I have any
more volunteers? I can handle one shift myself, so I really only need one
more." At that, one last person raised his hand.

Jeffrey leaned over to me and whispered, "Can we do the same shift?" Again,
that odd impulse rose within me and I nodded yes. We signed up for the noon
to two PM shift, and sat back down.

Robert then moved on to another piece of business. "As you know, there are
other groups such as this one in other universities and colleges within the
Lower Mainland. I've been talking to some of the group leaders, and I think
we might be able to put together a kind of outreach program for high school
students who are in grades 11 and 12 and are thinking about going to
university, but who aren't sure about the kind of reception they will
get. If we can help 'pave the way', so to speak, we'll probably be doing
many of them a big favor."

A hand rose. It was one of the two cute guys who I had seen last week, and
he was sitting next to the other. I idly wondered if their relationship had
any meaning to it. Robert looked over at him and nodded.

"I was just thinking. I don't think we'd get a good reception going around
to each high school, but what if we had a kind of 'phone support' line, and
a monthly get-together where anybody could come in and ask questions about
the groups?"

At that, other people began pitching in with their ideas, and Robert took
notes. Finally, he called a halt, and summarized: "I'll be taking this to
the other group leaders and I'll see what they think. The basic idea is
that we have a phone number where prospective university or college
students who are gay, lesbian, or bisexual can call and ask for information
about support services available to them. Also, we will have a monthly, or
quarterly, get-together and open-house where anyone can come and ask
questions of leaders and members of the support groups."

A current of assent filled the room. Robert concluded, "Excellent! Is there
anything else we should cover in this meeting? If not, see yuo next
Tuesday, same bat-time, same bat-room." He grinned and winked.

Nobody spoke up or raised his or her hand, so the group meeting broke up
quickly. I stood, and as I did so, Jeffrey did too, and looked me directly
in the eye. "Where are you going after this?"

I said, "I'm going to take the bus home."

"Can I walk with you for a bit, then?"

I shrugged. He seemed harmless, and in any case, I could always politely
get rid of him later. I began walking in the direction of the bus depot,
and he tagged along.

His youthful enthusiasm was almost heartbreaking. "Chemistry, huh? Wow! I
never could figure out what it is you guys do. What's it like?"

I replied with a question that caught him off-guard. "Hey, how old are you,
anyway?"

"Uh, seventeen. Why?"

I felt old and tired, as though I were a man advanced in age, regretting
the lost days of youth. "Wondered. Anyway, you wanted to know about
chemistry..."

=-=-=-=

Somehow, twenty minutes later, we were still talking. It turned out he
would be on part of the same bus route I was. I saw how his eyes lit up
when he noticed which bus I was going to catch. He lived in Burnaby, near
the Metrotown mall complex. I had wondered aloud how he seemed so confident
and carefree, and his reply caught me off-guard. "I decided to just bust
out of the closet as soon as I got to university, man. I promised myself
I'd do that because I was so sick and tired of being somebody I wasn't,
back when I was in high school!"

I silently agreed, simultaneously amazed at his decision. I hadn't been so
bold as to attend the "Out on Campus" meetings until this year. I found
myself liking Jeffrey and his boundless enthusiasm and, at times,
idealism. His choice of political science as a major was going to be his
springboard to get into politics where he would, in his words, "rattle the
homophobes from pillar to post!"

All too soon, his stop came, and he shook my hand again and bid me
goodbye. "See you on Thursday!" I nodded and smiled in reply. My spirits
stayed high as I continued on my own journey home.

=======

And that ends part 3. Dear readers, I have a quiz for you: What should
Daniel's and Jeffrey's respective last names be? I have ideas in mind, but
I'd like to have your input. Thanks for putting up with me!