Date: Thu, 6 Jul 2006 11:14:33 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Phalen chapter 27 - college section

This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles.  There
may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting
adults.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or
if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal
or religious beliefs, or if you under 18 years of age, please leave now,
without proceeding further.

This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons
are completely coincidental.  Actual locations are mentioned, and are used
for 'background' only.

You are also welcome to read my newest story, 'Leith,' also located in
Nifty's Gay College Section.


Roy
roynm@mac.com


Phalen - Chapter 27


----------


The Finnair 747 circled over Helsinki awaiting permission to land.  Vantaa
airport and most of the city was covered in a blanket of fog stretching
inland from the Gulf of Finland, a common enough occurrence this early in
the morning.  The delay in landing had done nothing to improve Jeff's
jittery nerves.  It had been a long flight, first from Phoenix to New York,
and then directly to Helsinki.  Once over the ocean, Phalen had been able
to sleep, unlike Jeff who, for the thousandth time, wondered if he was
doing the right thing, bringing Phalen home to meet his parents and to let
him see a little of the place where he grew up.

'It wouldn't be so bad,' Jeff thought, 'if there were pleasant memories to
return to.'  The problem was, pleasant memories of his childhood were few
and far between.  He had promised himself when he left Finland to go to
school in the States, he would never return, and yet here he was.  Part of
him was excited.  The greater part was scared senseless.

He looked past Phalen out the plane's window, and in the early morning
light saw patches of water through gaps in the fog.  Water, and in the
distance, the tree-covered landscape, so different from back home.  He
leaned back in the soft leather seat, willing himself to be calm.  Phalen
glanced up from the magazine he was reading and grinned.

'How can he be so *calm*?'  Jeff reached for a magazine and flipped through
it, using the motions to help work off some of his nervous energy.  It
didn't work.  After only a few moments he stuffed the magazine back in the
compartment in front of him and began tapping his fingers on the seat's
armrest.

The day after he and Phalen had spoken about the possibility of taking a
trip to Finland, he had telephoned his father without Phalen's knowledge.
He didn't want Phalen listening to him stammer his greetings.  He admitted
to himself, he also didn't want Phalen to see him if he became emotional
. . . or if things went badly.

He called at a time he knew his father would be reading the newspaper,
sitting in his favorite chair with his stocking-clad feet propped on the
big leather ottoman.  The house would be quiet, with the only sounds, the
distant laughter from the park across the street and the traffic four
stories below.  He imagined his father wouldn't be paying attention to the
distant laughter, nor to the ever-present smell of the sea and the sound of
birds in the nearby trees.  Jeff stopped in the middle of his living room
and perched on the arm of a sofa.  He could imagine the late evening sun
streaming in through the window overlooking Kaivopuisto (KY-vo-pwe-sto)
Park, illuminating the room where his father sat reading in a soft golden
glow.

 Jeff had spent innumerable hours either roaming Kaivopuisto Park or
sitting on the window-seat in his room, looking out over the vast expanse.
He knew the park intimately.  From his fourth floor bedroom window he could
see the undulating sea of leafy summer green set against the blue Gulf.  In
the winter he often saw some lonely soul moving from one patch of
yellow-lit snow to the next, braving the biting wind sweeping in off of the
ice-covered water.  On some winter nights the Northern Lights even outshone
the lights of Helsinki.  Jeff had dreamed of leaving Finland while sitting
on that window seat.  He would rest his chin on his knees as he wrapped his
arms around his flexed legs.  In summer or winter, the dreams never
changed, only the view outside the window.

Now, he dreamed of returning.  He could imagine himself sitting on the same
window seat with Phalen at his side, visiting with his father.  The room
would seem different now with Phalen next to him.  He wondered how his
father had changed . . . and his mother.

Before dialing the number he had paced back and forth in the living room,
not sure what to say.  It had been four years since he had spoken with his
parents.  He and his father had exchanged many email messages, but he had
never felt it was the right time to speak with them.  When he first left
Finland he had been too angry.  As time passed and he grew into his new
life, he had been afraid to initiate communication for fear of being drawn
back into old ways of thinking.  Then, after meeting Phalen, they were
either spending time together or he was working with his counselor to
overcome his childhood abuse.  The time was never right.  Today was the
day.  It felt *right* to call and begin the final stage of overcoming his
past.

He quickly punched in the long string of numbers and began pacing back and
forth across the living room, looking out to the swimming pool and then
turning and crossing the room to stand in the sunroom, looking out to the
entry courtyard.

His father answered the phone in Finnish.  Jeff swallowed, and then spoke
softly.

"Hello, Dad.  This is Jeff."  The line was quiet for a long moment and in
the background he heard his father clear his throat.  His voice was rough
when he came back online.

"Thank you, Jeff. . . . son."  Once again, there was silence.  "I've
. . . I've missed you . . . so much."  Jeff could hear him sniff.

A tear ran down Jeff's cheek and he smiled as he perched on the arm of a
sofa. His fears were dispelled.  It *was* the right time to call.  "I've
missed you too, Dad."

"Are you okay?  Is anything wrong?"  His father asked, suddenly anxious.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay.  I'm calling to tell you many things, but mostly to
hear your voice.  I didn't realize how much I . . . missed it . . . and
you."  He sniffed and smiled to the empty room.  He rubbed a hand across
his eyes, wiping away the moisture.  "I'm sorry, Dad . . . for not calling.
It's taken me this long to realize how much you, and Mother . . . and
Finland . . . mean to me.  I've missed you all."

His father spoke while Jeff attempted to compose himself.  "Thank you for
your computer messages, and the pictures you've sent."  He chuckled
slightly.  "I've shown the pictures to everyone.  People are tired of
seeing them.  Your house is beautiful and you've become a handsome man.
I'm so proud."  There was a slight hesitation.  "Let me get your mother.  I
don't know how long you can talk and I know she'll want to say hi."

"*No!* . . . Dad, wait . . . please.  I want to speak with you first.  I'll
talk to Mother later.  I have some things to tell you which I'm hoping
you'll relay on for me."  He sighed.  "I'm a coward, and I think you'd be
better able to understand what I have to say."

"Coward?" his father asked.  "Understand?  Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Dad."  Jeff laughed, finding himself once again at the French doors
looking out to the swimming pool.  "I don't know where to begin, so I
better just plunge in.  Everything's good news so you don't need to hold
your breath waiting for the bad news."

"How'd you know?"  His father laughed.  Jeff smiled to himself as he heard
the newspaper rustle as his father folded it.

"First, I graduated from college last week . . . with honors.  I'm going to
be teaching architecture next year while I'm going to graduate school."  He
paused a moment.

"I often go out to visit grandpa's grave and take him flowers and sort of
talk to him.  Do you know what I mean?"  Without waiting for an answer,
Jeff continued.  "I told him about graduating, and thanked him for how much
he helped me."  Jeff paused a moment and then cleared his throat.  "I think
of him a lot."  His father sniffed as Jeff continued.  "I go out and talk
to him often."  Jeff paused a moment, remembering the vibrant man who was
always laughing and telling jokes, so unlike his son, Jeff's father. "I
miss him," Jeff found himself saying.  "He was always my best friend.  I
would like to think he'd be proud of me."

"I'm sure he'd be as proud of you as I am.  Honors?  Congratulations!"  His
father chuckled.  "Wait till I tell the neighbors!  I can hardly wait."

"Thanks, Dad.  But that's not the primary reason I'm calling.  I wanted you
to know I've met someone."

"Wonderful!  What's her name?  Your mother will be so happy!"

Jeff took a deep breath, wishing Phalen was nearby to lend encouragement.
"It's not a girl, Dad.  It's a guy.  I'm . . . I'm gay, and I wanted you to
know how happy I am."

There was an extended moment of silence.  "I see."  Then there was a slight
chuckle.  "Whew."  He chuckled once again, trying to assimilate the news.
"Jeff, you always could surprise me.  Is he a nice person?  Are you both
happy?  What's his name?"  He interrupted himself.  "Of course, he's a nice
person.  You wouldn't be living with him if he wasn't.  You *are* living
together, aren't you?  You've got a beautiful house."  He laughed.
"Hitto!" (damn) He said to himself.  "I've got to slow down and give you a
chance to talk, but I've got so many questions!  This is all so much to
take in."  Jeff could hear him take a deep breath.  "The most important
thing to me is your happiness."  There was a long pause.  "*Are* you happy,
son?"

Jeff nodded and wiped his watery eyes and then sniffed.  "Yes, Dad
. . . more than I've ever been."

"Thank you, son . . . for telling me . . . for trusting me.  I know it
can't have been easy for you."  He paused a moment.  "You'll have to
forgive me if I seem to ramble.  It's going to take a little time for me to
think of you as gay."  Suddenly he began to laugh.  "This is wonderful,
absolutely *wonderful*!  I'm gaining another son, and I never had to change
the diapers!"  He chuckled.  "I've always said changing diapers is the
absolute best form of birth control in existence."  There was a slight
pause.  "Ugh."  He could imagine his father shuddering.

Jeff wiped his eyes, wondering why he ever thought of his father as lacking
a sense of humor.  "He's a wonderful person, Dad.  He's eighteen and just
graduated at the top of his class.  I am so happy I can't believe it's
happening to me.  His name is Phalen, and his father lives next door to us.
He's an attorney . . . Phalen's father, not Phalen."  Jeff took another
breath, anxious to tell his father everything.  "He plays baseball, Dad.
He'll tell you all about it if you give him a chance.  Oh, and he's cute,
with beautiful blue eyes, and a fantastic smile.  And we laugh . . . a lot,
and he holds me . . . but most of all, I love him more than I can express."
He slowed down.  "I . . . I never thought life could be so wonderful."  He
sniffed, and then stood and once again began to pace.

"Dad, could . . . would you tell Mother for me?  You seem to be able to
talk to her better than I can.  The reason I'm asking is I'd like to bring
Phalen with me for a visit . . . but I don't want to if it's going to be
rough on either of you."

"Jeff, your mother has changed since you left.  She and I talk often, about
a lot of things having to do with you and your brother, and she . . . well
. . . she's changed.  You'll find she's not as formidable as she once was.
I always told you she really loved you.  Well, I don't think she's going to
be so afraid of showing it now."  Jeff swallowed and shook his head in
wonder, unable to comment.  "But, yes, if you'd rather I tell her about you
and Phalen, I'll do it."

"Dad, both of you are going to have to do more than intellectually *know*
I'm gay.  If we come for a visit, you're going to have to be comfortable
seeing us touch each other."  Jeff laughed, imagining what was flashing
through his father's mind.  "Don't worry.  I'm not going to do something
inappropriate in public, or in front of the two of you, but I won't be a
different person just because I'm visiting you both.  Is that going to be
acceptable to you?"

"Son, to see you again, and hold you . . . " He laughed self consciously,
not accustomed to speaking so frankly.  "You could bring home a goat, and
I'd welcome it into the family!  If you . . . love this man . . . I'm sure
he's a fine person.  It may take your mother and me a little while, but you
have to remember, this is totally new to the both of us.  Your brother is
still single, so we don't have a lot of experiences with our son's
partners.

"Greg's single?"  Jeff couldn't believe it.  He imagined his brother to be
the type to have already been married twice, and he had only just turned
twenty-five."

"Yes, He's graduating from medical school next week.  He was telling us he
was thinking of going to the States to practice.  He's got to take many
tests and things first, of course.  He's a bright young man, just like you.
Only fifteen percent of people who apply for medical school are accepted.
He passed all the tests on the first try!  He has a small place nearby, but
he stays with us often.  He's changed too, Jeff.  He's . . . calmer."

They spoke for another hour, catching up on everything their many email
messages didn't cover.  Finally, Jeff spoke with his mother.  He remembered
her as a quiet, unfeeling woman.  When his father called her into the room
and handed her the telephone Jeff wasn't sure what to expect.

"David," Jeff heard her say, sounding exasperated.  "Why are you standing
there smiling like the village clown?"  His father must have made an
encouraging motion or something.  "Okay, okay, If this is another of your
jokes . . . "  She left unsaid what she would do if the call turned out to
be some sort of prank.  This didn't sound like the woman he remembered, but
after he said, "Hi, Mother," and she began crying, he knew they would get
along.

"I've missed you so much, Jeff," she said speaking through her tears.
"I've felt bad because I've always thought when you left you were unhappy
and I didn't know how to help. . . . Are you happy, honey?"  She sniffed.
"Are you coming home?"

"Mother, I am home right now.  But yes, I am happier than I've ever been,
and hearing your voice has just made me happier."  He could hear her sniff.
He could imagine his father scrambling to hand her his handkerchief.  "I've
been speaking with Dad about coming for a visit.  The two of you talk it
over and I'll call back in a day or two.  I've got three months before I
have to be back, so whatever's convenient for you both works for me."

They spoke a while longer before hanging up.  He sat back on the sofa and
put his feet up on the coffee table and smiled.  After a moment he cheered,
spreading his arms wide, and then he began laughing.  'Everything will be
okay,' he thought.

----------

"Well, are we gonna get out?"  Phalen looked at Jeff expectantly,
practically bouncing on his seat. "We've been cooped up in this tin can for
hours, and I for one, want to join all those people who just left the
plane."  The fact that he was smiling took the sting out of his words.
"Jeff nodded grimly and stood, moving into the wide aisle of the huge
plane.

"It'll be okay, big man."  Phalen patted him on the back in understanding.
"You'll see."  Again, Jeff nodded, his normally pale skin even more devoid
of color.  Phalen coxed him past rows of leather seats toward the exit
reserved for first-class passengers.  One of the flight attendants smiled
and welcomed them both to Helsinki, speaking Finnish.  Without hesitating,
Jeff responded and instantly began to loosen.

Phalen turned to the attendant, thanking him.  "Kiitos."  (KEE-tohs) Jeff
turned a surprised look on him as they stepped into the jet way.  Phalen
smiled.

"I've been practicing.  I know how to say, please, thanks, let's eat,
where's the bathroom, do you speak English, oh and the most important one,
I love you.  I learned the last three words from the most handsome man I've
ever met."  He motioned Jeff to get moving.  "Anyhow, I figure I should be
able to do all the important stuff with those words."  Phalen suddenly
turned to him with a slightly worried expression.  "I haven't figure out
what I'm gonna do when someone answers me and I don't understand a word
they say."  He shrugged, shifting the strap of the carry-on bag to his
other shoulder. "I guess I'll just ask 'em if they speak English, huh?"
The solution seemed to satisfy him and he watched as Jeff took a deep
breath and smiled, starting down the long corridor leading from the plane
to the terminal.

"It smells like what I remember."  Phalen made a face.

"Smells like jet fuel to me.  I hope the place smells better than that."
Jeff laughed and they entered the airport, heading for customs.  It only
took a few minutes to be processed and they found themselves walking into a
large room, filled with people milling about, either waiting to meet loved
ones, or waiting for their own flight.  As they entered the large room,
Phalen stopped to look around, craning his neck to look out the high
clerestory widows and the clouds moving swiftly against the dark blue sky.

"Jeff!"  There was a call to their right.  Phalen turned and saw some
people waving and smiling.  Once again, Jeff froze.

"Come on big man," Phalen muttered, giving him a slight push.  "Let's not
keep the parents waiting."  Jeff grumbled under his breath but began to
move.  After only a few steps his mother and father reached them and
embraced Jeff, exclaiming on his tan and how handsome he had become.
'Tan?' Phalen thought, studying Jeff closely and then glancing at all the
blond pale-skinned people in the airport.  'Hmm,' he thought.  'I wonder
what she'll think of me?'  Jeff's mother fit in with everyone else.

She was a tall slender woman with green eyes, a flawlessly creamy
complexion and short golden blond hair.  Jeff more closely resembled his
father, a handsome man with the typical light skin.  Instead of the more
common light-colored hair, his was thick and dark.  He had green eyes
framed by long dark eyelashes.  Phalen studied him closely as he spoke with
Jeff.  'He's got to be one of the most striking men I've ever seen,' Phalen
thought, glancing from Jeff's father and then to Jeff.  'What a good
looking family.'

Jeff's mother kept dabbing at her eyes with a white handkerchief, and his
father seemed not to want to release his son's hand.  Both would talk for a
few moments and then stop and look at him, acting as if they weren't sure
their son was really standing in front of them.

"You must be Phalen.  Hi, I'm Greg."  The voice was almost identical to
Jeff's light baritone.  Phalen abandoned his musings, turning quickly and
smiled.  He shook hands with Jeff's brother, amazed at how much the man in
front of him resembled Jeff.  His hair was more of a dark brown than Jeff's
black, but he had the same eyes, light skin and five o-clock shadow.  He
also had the same smile.  However, where Jeff's demeanor seemed to be calm,
Greg's could only be called intense.

"Hi, Greg.  It's a pleasure."  His hand even felt like Jeff's, strong and
warm.  "It's certainly easy to tell you and guys are brothers."  Greg
nodded and smiled the same smile as his brother.

"Except he's got a few extra whiskers."  He ran his fingers over his own
bare chin, commenting on Jeff's closely trimmed goatee.

"Mother, Dad."  Jeff broke into his parents' welcome.  At the sound of
Jeff's voice Phalen and Greg turned in his direction.  "We should move out
of everyone's way."  He gently moved them aside and at the same time looked
around and found Phalen speaking with his brother.  He broke into a smile,
seeing his brother for the first time.

"Hi Greg!"  Jeff quickly embraced his brother.  Phalen almost laughed out
loud at the startled expression on Greg's face.  "Thank you for coming to
meet us."  He put his hand on Greg's shoulder.  "Mother told me on the
phone you've been busy at the hospital."  Greg silently nodded, but seemed
overwhelmed by his younger brother.  "I'm glad you were able to get away to
meet us."  Jeff looked at his brother and then Phalen. "I see the two of
you have already introduced yourselves." Phalen nodded.

Phalen noticed how Greg studied his brother from a distance.  When he
discovered he was being watched he grinned and looked away.  "Mother, Dad,
I'd like you to meet my partner, Phalen.  He turned to Phalen.  This is my
mother, Margit, and my father, Daavid."  He pronounced his father's name as
it is pronounced in Finland. (DAHH-vid) Phalen smiled one of his brightest
smiles and shook Jeff's father's hand before Margit drew him into a brief
embrace, returning his smile.

"Hello, Phalen," Daavid said. "Welcome to Finland.  There's no need to
pronounce the name the Finnish way.  David will do."  Phalen nodded.  "Both
of us are happy to meet the man who has made our son so happy."  Margit
nodded and grinned, still teary-eyed, looking from Phalen to Jeff with a
happy maternal smile.

"We hope you'll enjoy your stay with us as much as we'll enjoy having you,"
she added to her husband's welcome.

"Wow," Phalen smiled.  "What a welcome!"  He moved closer to Jeff.  "Jeff's
always said what wonderful parents he has.  I can see he wasn't
exaggerating."  Both Margit and David exchanged a pleased smile.  "The same
goes for you Greg.  Jeff tells me you've just graduated from medical
school.  Congratulations!"  He looked a little wistful.  "I wish I had an
older brother."

"Are you an only child, Phalen?"  David asked as they headed toward the
luggage pick-up area.  Margit was walking on Phalen's left and had
commandeered her son's hand.  David and Greg were on Phalen's right.

"Yes."  He shifted his bag to his other shoulder.  "It's just me, my
father, and now Jeff."

"Your mother?"  Margit asked, turning to him and looking concerned.

Phalen shrugged.  "She ran off.  We haven't heard from her in quite a
while."

"Oh, you poor boy."  Margit released Jeff's hand and put an arm around
Phalen's shoulders and leaned close, talking to him as they continued to
walk on ahead.  Jeff, Greg and David stopped and stared open-mouthed in
amazement.

"Damn," Greg laughed.  "I've never seen her accept someone so quickly!"
Jeff continued to stare at his mother, not quite knowing how to handle the
change in her behavior.

She and Phalen stopped and looked back.  "Come on guys."  She motioned for
them to hurry.  "Get a move on.  Phalen and I are starving."  David and
Greg looked at each other with puzzled expressions.  Jeff shook his head.
"Not only have they become friends.  They've known each other for less than
ten minutes and she's already talking like him!"

__________


Phalen walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Jeff along one of the paths of
Kaivopuisto Park, only a short walk from the fourth-floor home on the
park's periphery where Jeff had grown up.  They had arrived in Helsinki
earlier, and after a meal and a visit with Jeff's parents they spent some
time in Jeff's old bedroom sprawled on the bed in each other's arms.  Jeff
had looked excited as he led Phalen through the house, telling his parents
they had decided to go for a walk in the park.  It was late in the evening,
yet there was plenty of light to see by.

"It's all so beautiful."  Phalen looked from side to side and then stopped
to turn in a full circle with his arms spread wide.  "It's so green
. . . and wet smelling.  Everything is so different . . . even the air."
He grinned, looking to his right.  Jeff had been walking quietly, the
barest hint of a grin turning up the corners of his mouth as he looked at
his surroundings.

"What are you thinking?"  Phalen nudged him, and the smile gained a
definite focus.  "You're awfully quiet."  Jeff shrugged.

"It's all the same, yet different."  He made a broad gesture, his arm
taking in the surrounding landscape.  "I used to play on this lawn."  He
stopped and pointed to an expanse of grass at the bottom of which was a
cobblestone walkway bordering the calm water and a number of small sail
boats with their white and blue Finnish flags fluttering in the breeze.  He
squatted and ran his fingers through the thick grass, seeming to say, 'I'm
back.'

Jeff stood and with an intent look on his face, took a few steps across the
gravel path and looked up at a nearby tree before turning back to Phalen.
"And this tree . . ."  He gently touched the gnarled trunk in what was
almost a caress before turning a slightly embarrassed grin on Phalen.  "I
liked climbing this tree and hiding from Greg . . . when I wanted to be
alone."  He smiled in fond recollection.  "He never thought to look up, and
I was always very quiet."  He craned his neck and looked above, seeming to
search for his old hiding place.

"The tree has grown," he said, almost to himself.  He turned to move on,
but not before once again running his fingers lovingly over the rough bark.
He took a few steps down the path and then stopped and looked back over his
shoulder.

"That tree was one of the few friends I had when I was a child that didn't
want something from me," he said quietly.

"You mean, one of the few who wouldn't hurt you?"  Jeff nodded, his mouth
set in a grim line.

"I'm glad it's okay."  Jeff murmured.  "I've often thought about that tree,
wondering how it was doing.  Isn't that silly?  That's one of the reasons I
wanted to go on this walk tonight . . . to check on an old friend."  Phalen
smiled his understanding.

"I'm glad it's doing well.  I'll bet it remembers you," he murmured,
drawing Jeff's pleased expression.

There were sudden sounds of laughter and of dogs barking as they rounded a
densely planted bend in the path . . . a happy sound that made Phalen
smile, dispelling the melancholy mood.  Even Jeff 's spirits seemed to
lift.  He stopped and looked around, watching the children playing and
adults lounging on the lawn.

"The place seems so happy, now."  He looked over the expanse of deep green
grass, cut across by long shadows cast by the surrounding trees.  The water
beyond was a dark blue in the fading light, reflecting the gently rocking
sailboats as well as the people strolling along the water's edge.

"Maybe the *place* has always been happy," Phalen ventured, sitting on a
nearby bench and stretching his legs out in front of him.  "Maybe it's
*you* who has changed."  Jeff shrugged and bent to pick up a small branch.
He absently ran his fingers through the few remaining leaves.

"Very likely."  The corner of his lips quirked slightly upward.  He perched
on the bench's arm and pointed to an area in the distance.  "They give
concerts over there on some summer evenings.  Dad and I used to go listen
to the police band.  Sometimes, there were fireworks over there, across the
water."  He turned and pointed to the far shore of the curving beach.  "It
was magical for a little boy."

"I can tell it still *is*."  Phalen added.  Jeff nodded and turned in a
slow circle, drinking in the surroundings.

They walked along in silence as Jeff relived some of his memories,
accompanied by the drowsy murmurs of birds in the trees.  He turned to
Phalen with an expression of wonder.  "It's funny." He stopped and looked
around, and then turned back to Phalen.  "When I met you I wasn't thinking
about any of the happy times I had as a child."  The corner of his lips
twisted upward.  "I had forgotten them.  I was so caught up in the *bad*
memories, I lost sight of the good ones."  He inhaled deeply, a contented
smile creeping across his face.  "I have to tell you, I never dreamed
. . . or hoped . . . even once . . . that I would someday walk these same
paths with the man I love."  He tossed the branch aside and took Phalen's
hand, squeezing it.  "I never dreamed."

They sat knee-to-knee on the grass, still in the park but within sight of
the home where Jeff had grown up.  The water was only a few feet away, and
the small sailboats and their masts, were now nothing but dark silhouettes
bobbing in the twilight of the long northern evening.  They could hear the
occasional sound of a flag flapping in the breeze, mixed with the
conversations of people passing.

It was strange Phalen mused, to think of growing up on the fourth floor of
one of the buildings surrounding the park.  They reminded him of pictures
he had seen of the buildings in Amsterdam, five or six stories tall,
multi-colored with steeply pitched roofs.  He looked toward Jeff's home and
his first thought was of a post card picture.  He could almost imagine Jeff
as a child running across the park on his way home.

There was a sudden burst of childish laughter from nearby causing Phalen to
blink.  It was as if his imagination had taken form and the happy sound was
Jeff as a child, laughing across the years.  His lips twitched and he
glanced toward the man stretched out on the grass next to him.

Margit and David were slowly strolling hand-in-hand in their direction.
The setting sun caught the gold of her hair as she laughed at something her
husband said.  The sound of her laughter carried on the still air.

'This doesn't seem to be the same woman Jeff described.'  He always called
her distant and reserved.  They both returned Phalen's wave causing Jeff to
turn his head to see who had gotten his attention.  Jeff was sprawled on
his back, his hands behind his head.  He smiled as his parents approached
and invited them to join him and Phalen on the lawn.

"Jeff has been telling me what a wonderful childhood he had," Phalen told
them as they both sat down.  "This park is pretty important to him."  Jeff
moved into a sitting position and scooted closer to Phalen.  He smiled in
Phalen's direction and then took his hand, turning toward his parents with
a smile of pure contentment.

David caught the momentary tightening of Margit's lips when Jeff took
Phalen's hand.  He also noticed how quickly her smile had returned.  The
two of them had been amazed at the change in their son.  He was relaxed
like he never had been when he was living at home.  Something, whether it
was Phalen, or something else, had definitely changed him.

"Mother, Dad, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you, and this,
again."  He gestured toward the park trying to stifle a yawn.  "Sorry 'bout
the yawn.  I guess I'm about ready for bed."  He grinned in Phalen's
direction, nudging him with his shoulder.  "Mr. 'I-can-sleep-anywhere,' was
able to sleep on the plane."  His grin became a smile as he turned to his
mother.  "I had to listen to him snore!  No one within hearing distance
could sleep."  He laughed, ducking a playful punch.  Margit and David
chuckled at the byplay.  The melancholy son who had gone off to college had
returned full of smiles and jokes.  Margit had commented to her husband
earlier that Jeff seemed so at ease.  He had grinned softly, and had
corrected her.

"No dear.  He's in love."

"I don't snore!" Phalen said, indignantly, "at least not *that* loudly."

"Do too."  Jeff refuted, glancing at his parents once again.  "Have you
ever experienced *heavy* snoring?  The kind that rattles the rafters?"  He
nodded to his left and reached out as if he were going to tickle Phalen.

Phalen yelped and rolled away, coming to rest on his knees a few feet
beyond Jeff's reach.

"He's also very ticklish," Jeff confided.  "Just don't tickle him *inside*
the house."  He rolled onto his back and began to laugh, turning his head
to first look at Phalen and then his parents.  Phalen made a face causing
his laughing to increase.  "Unless, you want to become friends with the
carpet cleaner!"

Phalen made a throwing motion in his direction.  "And *he* says *I* talk
too much!"  Jeff casually reached for Phalen's hand and gently kissed it.
When Phalen glanced up, he caught David's wink and Margit's gentle smile.
He had been worried about showing affection toward Jeff.  The wink and
smile told him everything was fine.

After another yawn, Jeff stood and brushed himself off and then extended a
hand to his mother.  She accepted with a smile and continued to hold his
hand for a moment longer.  He grinned and quickly kissed her on the cheek,
the first time he had kissed her since he was a young child.  As he turned
to lend Phalen a hand, Margit touched her cheek, turning to her husband,
her eyes wide.  He smiled and took her hand.

"C'mon, lover."  Jeff brushed the loose grass clippings from Phalen's back.
"The old folks," he nodded toward his parents, "need to get their rest.
Let's humor them, shall we?"  He took Phalen's hand and then moved close to
his parents who had been waiting.  He took his mother's free hand and the
four of them strolled back to the house in a companionable silence.

----------

Brad turned away from the pool and took the few steps back to the house.
He opened one of the French doors and felt a whoosh of cool air waft out at
him before he quickly stepped inside and closed the door.  "I'm soooooo
booooored!" he shouted, tilting his head back and spreading his arms wide.
He remembered saying the same thing to his mother when he was a child.
Summer vacation had only just started and he was already complaining.  His
job at the school of architecture on campus occupied some of his time, but
not enough.  He wandered into the kitchen and got himself a cold glass of
water and then leaned against the counter separating the kitchen from the
dining room and drummed his fingers in an idle rhythm.

He sighed and looked around the quiet house.  'The place is a lot more
exciting when Jeff and Phalen are here.'  He grinned, remembering how
frantic Jeff had been before leaving for the airport to go visit his
parents.  Phalen had urged him into the car and had waved at Brad, shaking
his head in exasperation before closing the car door.  'I hope Jeff calmed
down and things are going well,' he thought.

'What am I going to do with myself for three friggin weeks?'  He flopped
back on the sofa and spread his legs, running his fingers over his stomach
and then idly scratched his bare pubes.  He leaned his head back and stared
at the ceiling, tunelessly whistling.

When the phone rang he jumped, first in surprise and then in an effort to
answer it before the person hung up.

"Hi Brad.  This is Larry, next door.  How're things going over there?"

"I am totally, one hundred percent bored to death," he laughed and then
sighed.  "The pool has even stopped looking inviting.  I was thinking I'd
go out and get some of that kind of beer you left over here and have a few
or four."  Once again, he laughed.  "I usually have maybe two or three
beers a month!  So, you get the idea of where I'm coming from.  Sad story,
huh?"  Larry's laugh did not sound at all compassionate.

"It sounds like you've got the summer-time blues already, Mr. Kelly.
Phalen always waited at least a month before *he* started moaning about not
having anything to do.  Come to think of it, I haven't heard him complain
once since meeting Jeff though."

"Yeah, and I don't expect you ever will.  They're perfect together."  Brad
had wandered into the sunroom and was staring into the courtyard.  "Damn
it, Larry.  I don't do *being alone*, very well."

"Hmm.  Perhaps I've got the answer for what ails you."  Brad looked up,
suddenly interested.  "Phalen mentioned you're into running," he heard
Larry say.  "I was calling to see if you'd like to join me for a run over
to the University and along Tempe Lake.  I thought you might like to get
out of the house and also have some company."

"Damn, Larry.  You're just what the doctor ordered!  Give me a couple
minutes to get some clothes on and I'll meet you out front."  He closed the
phone and rushed into the kitchen, placing it on the counter.

He ran back to his room, actually Phalen's office, and stepped into his
bright orange running shorts.  He hurried to put his shoes on and then
decided to grab a shirt, tucking it into the back waistband of his shorts.
After taking a few swallows of water he ran out of the house, locking the
door behind him.  He checked to make sure the key was secure and crossed
the courtyard, waving to Larry who looked up from a stretching exercise and
smiled broadly.  Brad joined him, thanking him for the invitation.

Larry placed his hands on his hips and watched Brad move through his
stretching exercises.  "Nice tan.  Have you been sitting out by the pool?"
Brad had one smooth leg extended behind him, stretching his hamstrings.
His orange shorts rode up on his leg as he stretched, exposing the white
skin of his upper thigh and lower swell of his buttocks.  The thin fabric
formed itself to his butt and cradled his testicles in a firm grasp.  He
glanced up at Larry with an impish smile and nodded, beginning to stretch
his other leg.

"Oh," Larry murmured, stunned by the effect of Brad's fleeting grin.  It
had lit his face like the sun for that brief instant.

"Um . . . ah. . . You're looking great."  Brad's back and shoulders were
already beginning to glisten with a thin sheen of sweat.  Larry licked his
lips.  He watched a drop of perspiration run from one of Brad's armpits and
leave a glistening trail over his smooth skin.  It took all of Larry's
self-control to not lean over and lick it off.

Brad seemed oblivious to Larry's scrutiny.  "Thanks.  I *have* been
spending quite a bit of time near the pool.  I've had nothing better to
do."  The two men turned and headed towards the university, Brad easily
keeping pace alongside Larry."  They crossed busy Apache Avenue, and
entered the campus, a haven of calm and shade at this time of year.

Brad broke the companionable silence.  "Phalen said you usually come over a
lot.  Has my staying with the guys prevented you from stopping by?"

"No."  Larry glanced to his right.  He caught Brad's eye and grinned.
"Damn, I love this," he shouted.  Brad made a questioning noise.  "Running
with someone who knows what they're doing," Larry responded.  They ran on
in silence, skirting the vacant playing fields, before Larry spoke once
again.

"No, I've been involved with a big case at work and I've also been trying
to figure out a lot of things.  Besides, I really do spend too much time
over there.  Sometimes I feel they should charge me rent!"  Larry's eyes
sparkled as he laughed.  He looked toward Brad, suddenly serious.

"Did Phalen tell you I've recently come to the conclusion I'm gay?"  Brad
smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, he said, 'better late than never,' or something like that.  You know
him.  He's got a smart remark for every occasion."  He glanced to his left
and continued, as if he had only just remembered. "Oh yeah, he also said
something about you'd now find out what you've been missing."  Larry
laughed a happy carefree sound and turned toward Brad in time to see him
wink.

"Well . . . have you?"  Brad suddenly had to exert himself to keep up .
Since mentioning he was gay, Larry had begun to run faster.

"Have I what?"  Larry looked back over his shoulder.

"Found what you've been missing."  Brad shouted at Larry's back.  "Hey,
slow down!  Why so fast all of a sudden?"  Brad caught up as they ran along
side the lake.  Larry glanced at the spot where he fell when he and Andrew
were jogging and steered clear.  It had taken him weeks to get back into
shape after that spill.  Brad looked to see what Larry had avoided and saw
nothing.

"I thought I had found what I was looking for," Larry said, beginning to
breathe hard.  The heat was taking its toll on both men.  "It turned out to
be a false alarm."  They slowed down further.  "I'm left with a very good
friend, not a partner.  His name is Andrew."

"Is that what you want?  A partner?"  Brad fished the black t-shirt out of
his waistband and mopped it over his chest and face.  Larry watched him and
then extended his hand asking for the damp shirt.  Brad tossed it to him
with a puzzled expression and watched as Larry buried his face in it before
wiping it across his face and neck.  He tossed the shirt back to Brad and
answered the question.

"Yes . . . I definitely want a partner."

"Don't like to be alone either, I take it?"  Brad was beginning to gasp for
breath.  He reached out and took Larry's arm.  "Hey man, let's slow down
some more.  I'm worn out."  Larry's eyes flicked to the hand on his arm and
then to Brad's face before slowing.

"It's a good thing we're about home."  Brad once again wiped the t-shirt
across his chest, neck and face and then offered it to Larry while quirking
his eyebrows.  "I couldn't go much farther in this heat."  Larry once again
held the t-shirt to his face and inhaled.

"It seems you like sweat," he teased.  The observation was answered by
Larry's grin and slight shrug as they slowed to a stop in front of his
house.

"Are you still thinking about a beer or four?"  Larry tried to slow his
rapid breathing as he waited for an answer.  Brad was leaning over with his
hands on his knees, stretching the orange fabric of his shorts tightly
across his buttocks.  His perspiration dripped from his chin onto the hot
concrete driveway and instantly evaporated.  He nodded an answer to Larry's
question.

"Yes.  And Jeff's pool sounds good right now."  He finally stood and wiped
his hair away from his forehead.  "I can provide the pool."  Larry's eyes
widened as Brad spoke.  "If you can provide a few beers, you're invited
over to cool off."



~ To be continued ~



Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this
story.  I've been overwhelmed at the response to 'Phalen,' and love to hear
from each of you.

If you would like me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main
characters in this story, email me.

Sisu (SEE-sue)
Mina rakastan sinua (I love you)
Mita (what)
Anteeksi (I'm sorry)

I would like to thank Carey for his ceaseless efforts to make me a better
writer, Gwynne for her daily doses of humor and her insights into the
characters, and Larry in Finland for helping me with the Finnish language
and for being a good friend.  Writing may be a solitary endeavor but the
thoughts of each of these people, as well as you, the story's readers,
affect the story's course.

A number of readers have written asking for the correct pronunciation of
the character's names.   They are:

Phalen (FAY-lin)
Kerin (KEAR-in)
Thian (THE as in Theater  (THE-in)


Thanks for reading.

Roy
roynm@mac.com