Date: Mon, 20 Aug 2001 19:44:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Patrick Sean Purdy <theleprechaun_99@yahoo.com>
Subject: The DJ - Part 11

     This story is fiction any similarities between persons either living
or dead is purely coincidental (although any good writer will write what he
knows). This is a story that deals with male-to-male relationships as well
as homosexual sex. If this offends you or is illegal in your location
please do not read any further. This statement releases me the author and
the site wherein this story is posted from any legal action. Copyright 2001
by Patrick Sean Purdy.


Chapter 22: Adventure on the High Seas

     I finished packing away our things and joined Brandon on the Sun Deck.
The ms Westerdam was a large ship and so it was a bit of a challenge
finding him at first.  When I did find Brandon he was looking out at the
vast expanse of sea all around us, his gaze fixed upon some far, imaginary
point on the horizon.  His whole body was still, his head never moved and
if he blinked more than twice, I never noticed.  Brandon was brooding; I'd
seen him do that before when he was working with his music, but I had no
idea why he was doing it now.  I figured if it was something important I'd
know soon enough, but in the mean time I would just surprise him and bring
him back to the hear and now.

     I walked up behind Brandon softly and covered his eyes saying, "Guess
who!"

     "Julie," he said, trying to get a rise out of me.  I let go of his
eyes and spun him around to face me.

     "No, it's definitely not Julie.  So, what are you thinking about?"
All right, I'm an impatient person and I just had to ask.  I just didn't
want important news, if there was any, to pop up on me unexpectedly.

     "Not a lot."

     "Really?  'Cause you were pretty zoned out."

     "Yeah, really.  I've just had some stuff on my mind lately, that all."

     "Well, you know you can talk to me, right?"  I think I sounded more
hurt than I intended to.

     "Yeah, I know, and I will.  I promise, Love."  He gave me one of those
wry smiles that made him so famous to me.  It's amazing, but that smile put
me instantly at ease.  I stood there with him watching the sea and casually
placed my hand around his waist by instinct.

     "Evan, don't.  You never know who's around."

     "My parents, my sister?  They don't care if they see us like this.
Hell, we have our own room together, it's not like they don't know."

     "I'm not talking about your parents, I'm talking about the other 1200
people around this ship.  You know I don't like to draw attention."

     "You're right, Bran, I'm sorry.  I just can't help myself sometimes
and I don't even think about those things when I'm with you."

     "It's all right."  There was that smile from him again.  "I know you
love me and you were just trying to say so."

     "You're right," I answered, "I do and I was."


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


     The whole cruise played out a lot like that first scene.  Observing
beauty in our voyage and ports of call.  Observing beauty in each other.
It was calm and serene.  The landscapes were gorgeous, so were the people.
Brandon and I agreed we had never seen so many beautiful men and women in
our lives.

     Throughout the trip Brandon would try to remind us that he didn't want
a free ride by trying to pay for a meal or special excursion.  My parents
and I realized that his pride was at stake (and being Irish we understood a
thing or two about pride) and indulged his wishes without letting him go
overboard.

     For a great deal of the trip a silence surrounded Brandon which I had
never experienced before.  Usually he was so jubilant and vivacious - the
life of the party.  I know he had never taken a cruise before, so I
wondered if maybe he was just awed by the whole experience or if it was
something completely different.  Because this was a vacation and because I
didn't know the cause of the silent, and sometimes heavy, feeling I never
asked about it.

     Brandon said that he would tell me if there was any thing to talk
about, but the longer I heard silence the less I wanted to hear whatever
may come.  Of course, my impatience got the best of me and on our last day
at sea, just hours away from port I felt I had to ask Brandon what was
going on.

     I found him sunning by the pool on the Sun Deck.  Needless to say, he
looked gorgeous.  The sun had given his already perfect body a healthy
glow.  At the sight of such beauty I almost didn't want to confront him.
He saw me approaching and said, "Hey sexy, what's up?"  The smile appeared
again.

     "Just lookin' for you," I said.

     "Well, here I am."

     "In all your glory," I retorted.  "Have you had a good time?"

     "Very!" A small pause, then, "Why?"

     "Well, I know you said you'd come to me, but I've seen you and there's
something going on.  Something has been burning in your mind and I want to
know what it is."

     "Evan," he started, but I cut him short.

     "Listen, I know I'm going to sound pushy, proddy, impatient, and
over-protective, but I love you and I want to be here for you.  I want to
know when something is eating away at you, and be the ear that listens for
you."

     "I know, but I can't tell you about this."

     "Brandon, you can tell me anything."

     "No, I really can't."

     "Give me one good reason why not," I challenged him.

     "Well," he replied, "It would effect us if I did."

     "I hate to be a realist, Bran, but by us having a conversation like
this, it is already effecting us."

     Brandon's eyes, which had been downcast, looked up at me as he asked,
"You're not going to let up on this are you?"

     I held firm in my need to know and softly replied, "No, I'm not."

     He looked down again and said with resignation, "All right, but it'll
be difficult for me to say what I'm about to and I'm sure it'll be
difficult to hear."

     With those words I mentally kicked myself for pushing so hard.
Suddenly, I didn't want to hear his problems afraid of how they might
injure him or me or even us.  I wanted to remain in a state of blissful
ignorance, but it was too late.  Before I could change my mind Brandon
spoke.

     "You know I've been thinking a lot; you said yourself that you noticed
it.  I never denied that I had things on my mind and like I said, it's
noting you can help me figure out.  This doesn't mean that what I've been
thinking about doesn't effect you.

     "Evan, over these past few months I have fallen in love.  I've fallen
in love with you, a guy named, Evan . . . a guy.

     "I told you that morning after your party that you triggered something
in me very real, yet very much denied up to that point.  To be honest with
you, Ev, I'm not sure I'm ready to accept that, even now.  You met me after
a coming out period.  You came out to your parents, your friends, but more
importantly, you came out to yourself.  From your own admissions, you
stayed up late night after night, silently thinking in bed or wandering the
streets or strolling along the beach in the blackness of night until you
were sure of who and what you are; making sure that it all was right for
you.  Then, you decided to let someone into your life, someone that was
what you wanted.

     "I did things backwards.  I got the perfect relationship, but I never
took the time to think about how I felt being . . ." There was a long pause
while Brandon searched for the word, " . . . different from everyone else.

     "I'm sure the man you are now, the one I fell in love with, isn't
radically changed from the one I would've met six months prior, but I'm
sure of one thing.  The man of six months prior wouldn't have bought me a
drink at the club or hired me out to DJ a party.  HE would've been too
scared of being found out.  That's one of the things I'm feeling now.  I'm
scared.

     "I'm scared that I'll be labeled before I've had a chance to figure
out a label for myself.  I need time to figure out who and what I am.  I
need a chance to build up my defenses against a world that casts
aspersions.  It's one thing to defend a gay friend, which I've done, but
it's entirely different to defend a gay you.  Sure I've said, 'What if you
were in his shoes?'  Well, now I am, and the reality is more terrifying
that any stretch of the imagination."

     I listened to every word, I watched as every thought poured out of
him.  He worked so hard not to come undone.  I could tell he wanted to
break down in tears, but though he was a romantic, Brandon never let
himself be a sap.  As for my own reaction, I was completely empathetic.  I
did know what he was going through and I wanted to reassure him, but in his
drive to get everything out (at my behest) he gave no room for me to speak.
He kept right on going.

     "Evan, before I can love you honestly I have to figure this out.  I've
decided that once we get back to Jacksonville I'd like some time alone.
I'd like you to go back to St. Augustine and concentrate on work and
school, while I do the same and take the time that I need to figure out who
I am.  I don't want to see you while I do this.  I already feel like I've
betrayed you and it would just make me feel awful to see you so hurt.  I
didn't want to tell you this now; I wanted to wait until we were home.

     "We'll be docking in an hour.  I'm going to go pack.  I'm sorry."
With those words Brandon got up and walked away.  I sat, stunned.  I was
being dumped, or put on hold, or whatever.  I don't know if there was a
term for what had happened.  All I knew was that the man I loved didn't
want to see me.

     I held myself together, never breaking down.  I figured that
everything would wash out in the end and tried to concentrate on that
happiness.  I think that worked for about ten seconds.  I did resolve not
to fall apart, if only to show Brandon I understood, which I did and
didn't.  I stood up and headed back to the room.  We were docking in just
under an hour and then we'd have to drive home together for five hours, but
not before we said our good-byes to my parents and Julie.

     Of course, when I realised I would have to see my family one more time
I decided I didn't want them to know what just happened.  With luck, they
never would.  I went back to the room and found Brandon packing.  I told
him I didn't want my parents to know and he agreed we'd keep the fire
contained for now.  After that, I walked around, it was suddenly awkward to
be around him, because I knew that even though he still loved me, I
couldn't touch him and hold him the way I would have just an hour before.


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


     We left the ship, saying our good-byes to my family and packed up my
Jeep; I don't think my family suspected a thing.  Brandon was grateful and
thanked my parents a thousand times, giving my father a handshake and my
mother a hug and kiss.  It was genuine.  No matter what his confusion was
regarding himself or us his respect for my family was real.  Stupidly, I
had fallen in love with him a little more at that moment when I realised
that.  Because we both loaded the car, said good-bye to my family and then
got in the car and waived as we pulled away nobody noticed that we weren't
acting "couple-ish."  It was then the hard part began; there stretched
before us a 5 hour drive up I-95.

     It went silently.  The radio played and I concentrated on the music
and the road as I drove.  Brandon concentrated on the music and his own
thoughts.  I knew about the music the way he mouthed the lyrics and moved
his hands, I knew about his thoughts by the long silences between songs
that interested him.  As we passed the exit for St. Augustine and I drove
towards Jacksonville I asked Brandon what he wanted.

     "What exactly do you mean?"  I told him that I wanted to know only if
he wanted time alone, or if he wanted me near, or if he wanted supper, or
how he wanted to handle things in general.  "Oh, OK.  I was afraid you
wanted an answer right now."

     "No, Bran.  You take the time you need.  I'm here for you
. . . always.  I just want you to know that I want what's right for you."
He thanked me and said he just wanted me to drop him off.  I was supposed
to go home after that.

     We pulled up to his building and I started to help him up to his
apartment with his stuff, but he took it all himself and said he needed to
rest.  His face was starting to get red and puffy.  He was tired, but he
was also holding back emotions.  I went to kiss him and he reminded me not
to in front of the neighbors, but I knew it was more than that.  His face
twitched a bit more.  I told him I loved him and opened the car door,
watching him all along.  "I love you too, Evan," he said to me, almost
choking for speaking.  Then he turned and went up to his apartment.  I
watched him as he climbed the stairs and opened the front door to his
building.  Just before the door closed I heard him start to cry in fits.

      My own body writhed in the pain I felt for him and because of him.
It's cliche to say that in a situation like this you felt helpless or
drowned in emotion.  The cliche prevails because it's terribly simple and
accurate.  I knew there was nothing I could do for Brandon, but that didn't
mean I didn't want to do anything.  I turned the ignition and pulled away
from the curb, knowing my way home, but finding myself driving aimlessly.
I cried and I drove and I felt.  Crying and driving weren't so bad, but the
emotions I felt were the worst.  I felt angry, hurt, lost, and betrayed,
but also, protective, nurturing, and empathetic.  All the emotions ran one
after the other and all together making me cry until I could cry no more.
When I thought the catharsis was over and I had no more strength except to
drive the adrenaline kicked in.  My body's natural desire to fight or flee
had kicked in and I was suddenly finding myself acting as a maniac on A1A
in Atlantic Beach.

     I pulled into a public parking area and turned off the car.  I needed
a walk.  I headed down to the beach to do some . . . to this day I have no
clue what I was going to do on that beach.  I didn't want to think anymore
and I sure as hell didn't want to feel.  I've never been one to confront my
emotions when the emotions are negative.  I guess I wanted to simply walk
and forget, which is exactly what I did.  I walked along and stared out at
the ocean as if it was the first time, as if I hadn't done that a hundred
times this week alone.  I looked far away, past the horizon, contemplating
that endless expanse.  Not only endless, but also the ocean seemed infinite
like the stars.  Out went my mind, imagining first a blue and white marble,
then a rock rotating around it.  Soon I could picture eight other marbles
all trailing around our sun, as did this one.  Further out we were but one
star in a middle of millions, a small triangle shape as we are at the end
of one spiraling arm of the galaxy, which is also but one of millions
racing from an invisible starting point.  These millions of galaxies racing
from the Big Bang towards other galaxies that have traveled farther, yet,
those travel farther still.

     As this dance played out in front of my eyes, which saw but no longer
registered the ocean before me, I felt silly.  With so much more in the
universe, how could this one life be so important?  It had a calming
effect, but not for long.  I no longer felt reckless or out of control, but
now I was simply sad.  I say sad, because there is no other word to
describe it.  Depression is something you feel for yourself, loss is what
you feel for others, but this was both.  This was sadness, and it was the
primal feeling that the word was intended to describe.

     I needed to get home, but I was so tired.  The talk, the drive, the
parting, the sorrow, all of these combined to wipe me out and I realized I
was not only emotionally, but physically drained.  I needed a meal before I
tried to make the forty-five minute drive home.  I thought briefly about
gunning for it, but memories of late night drives home in my pre-out days
haunted me once again.  I decided I'd grab a bite first.  My favorite
Tex-Mex place was just up the road.