Date: Wed, 20 Jul 2005 20:02:46 +0000
From: Steve Thomas <stevethomas535@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jamey is Gay - chapter 4

This is a work of pure fiction, based on the author's feelings, beliefs,
and in some cases, experience.  There may be graphic sexual encounters at
times between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat.
If you are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading
this kind if story, shame on you for reading it - -  please stop here.
If not, - - ENJOY!



Cast of Characters:

James Thomas Arthur (Jamey)

Harold Brian Arthur - My Brother (Habby)

Harold Garfield Arthur -- My dad

William Pitts -- Roommate (Will)

Ronny -- Will's best friend.

George Wiggins

Darrel -- George's roommate



Chapter 4

"Jamey -- I need to talk to you about your mother."  Dad said.

"Okay."  I said.

"James, you have to accept it -- she's been gone since you were very
small."

"Dad -- I -- why do you keep talking about her as if she's here?  Just
last weekend -- when I bought the car -- you told me not to tell Mom
about it -- because she would worry."

"Son -- I didn't say that.  You imagined it.  I just don't know what
to do to get you to accept it.  You talk to her sometimes as if she's in
the room.  You're 18 now -- and a man.  I have to confess something to
you.  When you were younger -- I actually liked it when you would `see'
her and talk to her.  It almost seemed like she was actually here.  But
Jamey -- I have to move on.  It hurts me each time I come back to reality
and she's not here."

"Oh."  I said.  I kind of knew she was gone, but she keeps popping up
-- and in all the right places -- like as if she should be there.

"So -- Jamey -- I have arranged for you to see a psychologist.  But
unless you are willing to cooperate with her -- it won't do you much
good."

"Her?"  I said.  "Why a woman!?  I don't want a woman."

"James, listen:  You are from everything I can see - - gay.  And I also
know that you seem to become more infatuated with each new guy you meet.
I think a woman will be safer for you -- your emotions.  See?  Can you
try to understand -- and try to like her?"

"When do I have to go?  I said, suddenly extremely tired.

I have told her you will call her.  Here's her number.

He left me in my bedroom.  I was home for another weekend.  Will relented
and decided to stay on as my roommate at least until semester break.  He
may not have been able to find another place, because he was not acting
friendly at all, but I told him anyway - this time -- that I was going
home for the weekend.  "Kewl!"  he said.  "I'll see if Ronny wants to
stay here for the weekend"

That hurt.

A shrink.  I was gonna have to see a shrink.

"Maybe it won't be so bad!"  I turned and mom was standing in my
doorway.  "Maybe you can get her to talk to your father.  He thinks I'm
dead."

She didn't seem too bothered by this.  She looked down and seemed to
almost disappear, then said, "But YOU know I'm here, don't you dear?"

"I -- don't wanna see the shrink!  Go away Mom!"  I said and I shook
my head.  She was gone in an instant.



"So James," Dr. Jones said, "or would you rater be called Jim?"

"Not Jim!  Jamey will probably be best.  That's what all my friends
call me.  And I want for you to be my friend.  Can I call you Jane?"

Hey!  I was trying here!  "Don't worry!  I won't come on to you --
I'm gay."

"Who told you that you were gay?"

"I did!"  I said defensively.  Already I was starting to dislike this
woman!

"I'm not saying your not gay, James.  But that's not an issue here.
It's just that a lot of young men don't really know when they're your
age -- if they are gay or not.  With most it's the other way around --
boys denying they are gay -- when clearly there are.  But it has been my
observation that a boy doesn't really know until he is in his mid
twenties sometimes.  When did your mother die?"

"My mom's not - - huh?  Oh."  Back to reality.  "She died while
visiting her sister in Minneapolis."

"Did you get a chance to say goodbye to her?"

"Huh?"

"How old were you when she died?"

"Um -- it's confusing.  Nine maybe."

"Did you get a chance to say goodbye to here -- at the funeral?"

"There was no funeral -- or at least not here.  She went back there when
my uncle died.  I never knew my uncle.  But Mom was killed in an auto
accident.  Dad flew back, but left us with Aunt Ethyl.  Habby was only
five."

"Tell me how you found out about - when she died."

"In the first place, she left suddenly.  Her sister called and begged
her to come back when Uncle George died.  Mom left immediately -- went to
the airport and caught a quick flight while I was at school."

"So -- you really never got a chance to even say goodbye then?"

"No.  That's when I started talking to her."

"How about your brother -- Happy is it?"

"Habby.  He was home when she left.  He was in kindergarten, and only
went half-days to school.  Dad picked them both up and took Mom to the
airport."

"So -- Happy got to say good bye to mom -- but you didn't."

"Habby.  Yeah, I guess.  What difference really does it make?"

"Sometimes it doesn't.  We never know how certain things will affect a
person's mind and subconscious.  Children are especially vulnerable to
all kinds of influences, suggestions and really nuances that affect how
they see the world.  Take you assuming you're gay, for example.  There
are lots of reasonable - quote and unquote - `reasons' why a person is
attracted to their own sex.  Problem is, one man, for example, has a weak
or absent father image.  But there are plenty of others who have a strong
loving father.

"So there is this issue of whether it is something that is born into a
person or is learned and conditioned into him.  In my experience it
doesn't matter.  You are what you are -- especially as an adult.  And in
all my personal experience, I've never seen someone `change' from
being attracted to one sex to being attracted to the other."

"So," I said warming up to this subject much more than talking about my
so-called imaginary mother, "are you telling me that homosexuality is
incurable?"

"Incurable may be an erroneous word.  It suggests there is an illness.
I have seen people who were clearly and outwardly attracted to their own
sex -- change their actions.  For example, a family is a tremendous
motivator for some people who would otherwise be attracted to their own
sex -- to ignore -- or push those cravings into their subconscious -- and
`act' straight -- and be quite successful at it."

"Maybe they are bisexual?"  I said.

"I don't like that word either.  It suggests that there are some who
are strictly attracted to one or the other.  It is my opinion that we all
crave only a few things.  Food and water.  Acceptance.  Sex.  Love.
Everyone wants to love and be loved by someone -- or many people.  The
craving for sex is what perpetuates the race.  The dominance for the
opposite sex also perpetuates the race.  But obviously, sex is what needs
to be satisfied in the human instrument.  It is not only essential, but
acceptable in most societies, for most to be attracted to the opposite
sex.

"We can live without sex -- but we don't want to.  So most of us take
the path of least resistance.  For most that is toward the opposite sex.
For a small minority, it is toward the same sex.  For a great majority,
it is probably to both sexes, but it is more `acceptable' to only come
on to the opposite sex, so this is how the pattern is set.

"I want a family."  I said

"Which brings us back to why you're here.  You crave a mother so much,
you have created her being here -- in your mind.  Children need a mother
-- in my opinion.  So the gay man -- or lesbian -- has to make a choice
-- if the welfare of children means anything to them."

"Either act straight -- or don't have children?"

"Mostly.  There is evidence that a child is better off in the care of
two same sex partners than in the best orphanages.  But -- the optimum is
a family that has a mother and a father."

"I've had a lot of friends who were really screwed up by their
heterosexual parents."

"That's true.  Many -- too many -- people are selfish to a fault.  But
it is not only heterosexuals.  It is across the spectrum.  And it's
still -- in my opinion, Jamey -- preferable to have a good mother and a
good father rather than 2 good mothers -- or two good fathers."

"But - "

"Jamey, we're about out of time, and I've allowed myself to be
diverted off the subject somewhat.  I want you to leave here with
something today."

"What's that?"

"I want you to consider -- or be open to the possibility -- that you can
have it both ways."

"Huh?"

"Is your conversation with your mother -- your imagined or fantasized
communication with her -- is that hurting you -- in any way that you can
see?"

"I -- I don't know.  I don't think so."

"Well, I am a reality therapist, Jamie.  I want to teach you to
recognize reality.  What you are doing gets in the way of you accepting
other things in reality.  I don't know what yet -- and we may never
discover what they are -- but it has been my experience that as you let
your thoughts and fantasies of your mother invade your life, it can't
help but spill over into other parts of your life."

"I know."

"What do you know?"

"I know it spills over."

"What have you observed -- in your life?"

"It hurts Dad and Habby."  She nodded for me to continue.  "Sometimes
when Dad makes a meal, I pretend it was Mom.  More often when I make a
meal, I act like it was Mom.  I saw "Psycho".  I know how Norman Bates
became his mother.  But until my dad talked to me last week, I really
didn't see how it was hurting anyone."

"It hurts your dad, doesn't it, Jamey."

"Yes."  For the first time in this first session, I felt like crying.
She saw that.

"It's okay, Jamey -- you can cry.  I recommend it.  It cleanses.  I
want you to practice doing something this week -- and report to me next
week."

"Okay."  I agreed.

"I want you to think about your mother each day when you get up.  Talk
to her if it feels good.  But only while you are not with anyone else.
When you are finished, tell yourself that pretending that she was there
felt good, but you know she wasn't.  That's all.  Do that every day.
Maybe more than once -- several times if need be.  But only do it when
you are alone.  Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"Good.  See you next Friday afternoon."

So I left the shrink with two ideas.  One:  (I had already pretty much
figured this out) You can't cure something that isn't a sickness. Two:
I can control what I thought were involuntary fantasies.

"Did you like the dinner, Dad?"  I said proudly.

"You mean Mom didn't help?"  Habby taunted.

"Habby!"  My dad yelled.

Jane warned me that Habby might react in a way that was counter
productive.  She said he was probably dealing with his own stuff over it.

"The dinner was wonderful, Jamey." Dad said.  "How are things with
your room mate -- Will?  Is he cooled down?"

"Oh yeah.  He apologized for overreacting.  He actually told me that he
did the same thing to his parents when he graduated.  We're tight
again."

"How tight?"  Habby ribbed.  Dad allowed a lot of ribbing -- even of
himself -- so I was used to it.  I got even.

"Probably not as tight as Melanie-in-the-hot-tub!"  I chided.  I got a
dirty look for that one -- from Habby and Habby fromDad.

"How's your new car running, Son?"

"Do I really have to wait 4 years to have my own car?"  Habby whined.

"You at least have to wait til you have a driver's license."  I said.

"And even then -- you can drive your mothers old car -- just as Jamey
did." Dad said.  "It's old but it's still got life in it."

"My car is great!  I still wish it were a convertible.  That would be
much better in Santa Barbara."

"Kinda cold this time of year for a convertible."  Dad said.

"Still, people drive with the top down.  Then in the spring -- but
mine's not, and I am happy with it!  It's a great chick magnet!"  I
laughed.

"Since when did that matter to you?"  Habby said.

"Habby, I'm getting tired of your mouth!"  Dad said.

"It's okay, Dad.  I still get lots of looks from them!"

"And from guys - - ?"  Said Habby.

"HABBY!"  Dad roared.

"I get lots of looks from guys -- and yes the car helps!"

"You're only encouraging him!"  Dad said to me.

"It okay -- really, Dad.  He's so jealous that I get more looks from
guys than he does from girls!  Haha!"  Habby almost choked.

"What are you doing tonight. Son.  I was wondering -- if I could drive
your car to the honky-tonk."

"Cool, Dad!  Is there someone there you want to meet."

"There might be."  He smiled.

"Maybe I'll go with you."  I said.

"Not in that car.  No room to leave with anyone if I wanted to."

"I'll drive the minivan."

"What?  Drive `Mom's car'?  Won't she worry?"  Habby taunted.

"Habby's becoming a royal pain-in-the-ass teen."  I winked at my dad.
I wasn't that bad - - was I?!"  I said to my dad.  Habby sniffed.

"You weren't nearly as bad.  But you have to remember -- you didn't
have a brother who is gay."

"That hurt!"  I said, half serious.  Habby had  smug look on his face.

"Just saying the obvious.  I have to stick up for Habby sometimes.  I
love him too -- even if he IS a huge pain-in-the-ass!"  Another sniff.
"Okay!  But I have to warn you -- I doubt there are any gay guys at the
honky-tonk."

"I'll take my chances."  I laughed.

After my disappointment with Darrel -- and Will -- (why I fall for
straight guys is beyond me!) and after my first session with Jane - I had
secretly decided to give girls a try.  I've always assumed that "Jamey
is Gay" like everyone else.  But - - I do want a family, and what she
says about a child needing a mother -- makes sense.

Habby left before us and walked over to Melanie's.  I wondered if Dad
knew his little boy was doing his upper classman -- er woman.  But I
wasn't gonna say anything.  But -- I did confide in Dad about my
experiment -- tonight.

"Are you sure you want your first try to be with a cowgirl?"

"If she's like Shania Twain -- can't be too bad, can it?"

"No one over there is like Shania Twain!"

Dad talked me in to going to another dance-bar -- and said he'd go with
me.

We went to a place Dad heard about called The Highlands, in Hollywood.  I
loved seeing Dad get ready for his time on the town.  He too had been
dealing with Mom's death too long.  Raising two son's can't have been
an easy task.   The highlands is a huge place with a dance floor and
seven bars.  It also has five dining areas and a full service
restaurant.  Totally upscale and posh.

Most people on the dance floor were couples.  After being typical wall
flowers, we tried a couple of the bars.  It was pathetic.  "Maybe this
isn't the place to find women, Jamey."  Dad said as we left our third
bar.  We were walking to the next closest bar, when Dad said, "If we
don't find anything here, let's go home.  This is discouraging."

"Yeah, a little, but this is fun -- to be out scoping chicks with my
dad!"

We made a turn into the barroom door.  It was light in the mall between
the bars and dark in the bars.  Each time our eyes had to get used to the
dark for a long moment.  We had made it to the bar by the time we noticed
we were surrounded by guys!  Mostly couples again, but it was clear this
was a gay bar.   "Okay, time to go!"  Dad said.

"Wait!"  I said.  "I'm curious what kind of guy would be attracted to
my dad!  Haha!  Just sit on the bar stool, and do this for me!"

Dad's eyes went to the ceiling, but he sat.  I remained standing, beside
him.

"You two together?"  A very hot looking guy of about 25 said with a
twang.

"Yeah."  My dad said.  Dad really didn't have a clue.

"Too bad!"  He said with a sweet smile.  He was mesmerized looking at
my dad.

"Oh!"  I said.  "We're no TOGETHER, together!  He's my dad!"

The guy never took his eyes off Dad.  "You want another boy, Daddy?"
He crooned.  Dad looked at me, terrified.

"I think I better go to the bathroom!"  I said, and left not giving Dad
a chance to protest -- or follow.  At the bathroom, there was a line
outside the door.  There was a public toilet outside the bar, but this
one was a one hole-er.  I stood in line and watched as the hot guy talked
to dad.  Dad was not saying much except obviously answering some direct
questions.  I was enjoying the show.  Funny thing!  This hot younger guy
had cowboy boots and a hat on, and looked like he could have been from
the honky-tonk dad originally wanted to go in to.

"You really love that guy don't you?"  The guy in front of me in line
said.  I turned suddenly, and looked into a gorgeous pair of clear blue
eyes.  I could also see a full set of ruby lips and a days growth of
beard.  Gray hair graced his temples.  Something inside me flipped.

"Oh!  Yeah!  That's my dad."  I said.

"That's so sweet!  I can't understand why young guys like you go for
old farts like us!"

"Huh?"  I said  I was about to say something else, when the door opened
and it was my new friend's turn in the bathroom.  He disappeared behind
the door, but the door came open again.

"There is a toilet and a urinal in here, if you want to get finished
quicker."  The older guy said.

I didn't answer.  I just walked in behind him, and locked the door.
"So -- are YOU with someone tonight?"

"Me?  No.  I - "

It was like a movie.  I stepped up to him and wrapped my arms around him
and kissed his ruby red lips.  He stepped back.  "Whoa!  What would your
`daddy' say?"  He said, but with an obviously pleased smile.

"Sir -- that's my real Dad!  We both are -- um -- unattached --
tonight."

"Oh!  Well -- that's certainly - - different!"  He said amazed and
amused.


"So -- where were we?"  I said, eager to get back to those soft lips.

"There's a pretty good line going out there.  We should maybe take this
somewhere else."  He said, pecking me on the lips and stepping up to the
urinal.  I stepped up with him and unzipped too.  He looked totally
amused at my forward actions.  I know I was!  Well, more amazed,
actually.  I don't know what got into me.  Maybe that last drink?  As we
stood there, peeing our fill out, I put my hand around his head and
pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey!"  He said, laughing.  "I don't want to pee on you -- not here
-- not like this!"  We both laughed and almost DID pee on each other!

"Then don't!"  I said, and I kissed him harder.  This time he kissed
me back -- for the first time -- while we stood at the same urinal,
peeing the best pee in my life!

"Well, THAT was interesting!"  he said chuckling.  "Never done that
before!"

"Me neither!"  I said, as we both tucked our equipment back and zipped
up.

When we came out of the restroom, I was sure that every head would turn
our way.  No one did!  "So,"  I started, "where does this go from
here?"  I said to my new friend.

"Where would you like it to go?"

"I have no idea.  I'm new to this."  I said, as we headed back to
where dad was still talking to the guy.

"Looks like your daddy is doing okay."  He said.  Dad was laughing and
smiling with the hunky young guy, both with drinks in their hands.

"Well, I know that most guys who come here single want to find a hookup
for the night."  The older guy said.  "But that's not my style.
What's your name, anyway?"

"James -- Jamey!"

"Well, James -- Jamey, I'm Carl!  Nice to meet you.  And what a nice
way to meet!"

"Please call me Jamey, Sir."

"Only if you stop calling me sir!  Makes me feel sixty!  How old are
you?"

"Me?"  I said, suddenly feeling like a teeny-bopper.  "I'm 18."  I
said it as low a voice as I could muster.  I was surprised at how much I
wanted this guy to like me!

"Oh!  Omigosh!  Talk about robbing the cradle!"  He said.  "I'm
afraid that's a bit young for me!"

"Now see how you are!"  I exclaimed.  "You don't want me to call you
sir and make you feel old and then you go and tell me I'm a baby!  How
old are you?  Sir!"  I chuckled.

"38! An embarrassed 38!"

"38 is just a youngster!"  I said.  My dad is 48!"

"Dad, this is Carl.  I found him in the bathroom!"  I said, as we
walked up to them, and laughed.

"Thanks, SON,"  Dad said the son with special emphasis.  "But I seem
to have already found someone -- or - - he found me!"

"What?!!"  I said.  "Will you guys excuse us for a moment?"  I
dragged dad outside the bar into the hallway. "DAD!  What the f -- what
are you -- are you serious?"

"I'm as surprised as you are, Jamey.  As that young man engaged me in
conversation, I had my own conversation going on in my own head.  If my
son is willing to try something new -- why not me?  Then it occurred to
me -- I don't even know if I WANT to deal with another woman for the
rest of my life!  I hope it's not too awkward for you to tell your
friend that I've already found a pal -- for tonight anyway."

"I thought you already made that pretty clear."  I said, still trying
to get used to the idea that my dad could have some latent homosexual
feelings in him.  "Besides, Dad, Carl's not for you -- he's mine!"

Dad's eyes got huge.  "WHAT!!?"  He hollered.  Lowering his voice, he
said, "He has to be twice your age!"

"More!"  I said defiantly.  "He's 38!   But I think you have me beat,
don't you?  You have to be more than twice your hunk's age!"

"That's diff -- er -- no, I guess it's not!  Actually he's only 23,
so it's worse!"  he admitted.  `Guess we should get back in there --
before they give up on us and - "  About that time, the two other guys
walked out of the bar and stopped cold when they saw us.

"Oh!"  Carl said.  "We thought you guys had left us in your dust!
Isn't this uncomfortable!"

"Sorry Daddy!"  The hunk said to Dad.  "But Carl, here, and I sort of
really got along after you left.  Maybe see you another time?"

They walked away, leaving us both with our mouths wide open.  We looked
at each other in amazement and then started to crack up laughing.  I
never had so much fun with my dad -- ever!  "Next time we do this," Dad
started, "We'll drive together.  One of us is bound to get a ride home
-- or - - somewhere!"

"You mean you want to do this again?"  I marveled.

"Don't you?"  He asked.  "But -- this can't ever get to your
brother!"

"Don't you think he'll figure it out?"  I said.

"Not for at least the next four years.  I won't lay this on a 14 year
old!"

"I love you Dad!"  I said.

"Not as much as I love you, Jamey!"

I believe he's probably right.

Notes:  Okay, this was a complete surprise to me!  But it was a fun
little exercise too!  No promises either way!  Hell, I'm still trying to
get used to the idea of a boy growing up without his mother! (Well,
except for Jamey!  He always HAD his mother -- didn't he?")  Comments,
as usual, are more than welcome and may be addressed to Steve at
stevethomas535@hotmail.com.  Please put "Jamey" on the subject line.