Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 07:07:58 -0800 (PST)
From: Willie Hewes <williehewes@yahoo.com>
Subject: The learning years (4)

Hello everyone. This is part 4 of "the learning years"
Sorry, no sex yet, next week, ok? Oh, and please
excuse the spelling errors, words crashed this
morning, no time to fix it.

http://www.geocities.com/willie_hewes
williehewes@yahoo.com


Part 4

On Saturday I went home with his smell still in my nose and his
phone-number in my pocket. That was all, for now. At home, everything had
miraculously stayed the same. I felt like I had been gone for a year rather
than a week. Had I changed that much? My parents never noticed though.

     Wait, I think I have forgot to tell you where I live. Our town is 45
minutes from Leiden by bus. Hillegom is one of a great many small towns in
the west of Holland that have all grown together like a kind of Suburban
Cancer. Our grandfathers earned their living by growing tulips, hyacinths
and daffodils, generations of school-children spend their early summer days
cleaning bulbs in badly-lit sheds. Our house is in the Stations-straat
(yes, we have a station-st. and no station), across the street is a block
of houses in New Uglyness style, an archetectural crime of a very
fashionable type. Our house is older, not too big, I live here with both my
parents and my 15 year-old sister. My parent's bedroom is on the ground
floor, my sister and I have our own rooms upstairs. It's not a bad
home. It's certainly a lot cheaper than a room in Leiden would be, if I
could even get one. My parents are allright, as parents go; my mother's a
bit over-protective, my father's a tad insensitive, and more than a tad
inflexible. My sister is four years younger than me, but more streetwise,
so to say. She's a real master in stretching and evading my parents's
rules. If they knew half of what I know of her... It goes without saying
that they know nothing of my being gay, or of Charlie.

     Perhaps I should tell you a little more abut my sister Cyrill, she's
an important person for me. She follows highschool on a lower level than I
did, but when it comes to "emotional intelligence", I guess she got the
lionshare. I love to hear her talk about all her friends and relations;
it's my own little real-life soap. Here then, as an illustration:

                               ***

     It was that Sunday-evening that she came barging into my room. I had
just finished showering and hurried to put a little more clothes on. (My
little sister doesn't have to know I've got weird, knobbly knees.) She
leaned against the doorpost looking rather smug, and asked: "So who's
Charlie?"

     You must realise, she took me by surprise. i can play it straight as
good as the next one, if I have time to prepare. She wasn't supposed to
know anything about Charlie. I pulled her into the room and closed the door
behind her. "What do you know about Charlie?" I demanded in a whisper.
     "What should I know?" she parried.
     "He's just a bloke I met in the ELCID-week," I said, regaining my
self-control.
     "Oh!" she said cheerfully, "he must like you, then."
     "Why?" <i>How the hell do you know?</i>
     "Since he called you already."  Ok, so I forgot I gave him my
number. Stupid. Well, whatever she suspected, she didi't say anything about
it at that moment. She just said that he wanted me to call him back. She
did follow me downstairs, so she could follow my side of the conversation.

    "Charlie."
    "Hiya, Eduard here."
    "Hey Ed, that's fast. What did you dash right out of the shower, naked
and dripping wet?"
    "Uh, no."
    "Bummer. Better luck next time."
    "Uh, yeah."
    "'Uh, yeah' What are your parent there with you or something?"
     "Yeah, actually, they are. So, why did you call me?"
     "Just to tell you how hot I think you are," he said in the lowest bass
he could manage, "Ooooh, Eddy, you drive me crazy. Ahhgn, I'm at the brink
of cumming just from hearing your voice! Oh, Eddy!"
     I couldn't help giggling, and turned crimson. "Stop it!" I
hissed. Ciryll looked up.
     "Do you have a hard-on?" Charlie asked in his normal voice.
     "Aren't you a little too old to be playing phone games?"
     "Well, do you?"
     "Charlie..."
     "I'll stop teasing you, if you just tell me --"
     "I..."
     "--Come on, just say yes or no--"
     "Charlie, I'm gonna..."
     "--Do you have a hard-on! C'mon, yes or --"
     "YES!" Charlie burst out in laughter. I turned even redder, and now
even my dad looked up. Great.
     "Charlie, this is not very funny!"
     Still chuckling, he said, "Ok, it's about the bike. Bart wants to know
where you parked it."

Ciryll would not leave me alone. She followed me back to my room.
     "Is he your boyfriend?"
     "What?!?" I was shocked. Surely it wasn't that obvious.
     "I'm just asking. Did you think I didn't know?" Yes, actually. I
did. "Come on, just look around this place," She pointed at a poster on the
wall. "That should be the playboy-centerfold. Not Jonny Depp."
     "But, but..." I stammered.
     "And what about your obsession with Brad Pitt, hm?"
     "I am not obsessed with Brad Pitt!"
     "You went out of your head when he suddenly popped up in 'Growing
Pains'!"
     "Well so did you!"
     "I'M A GIRL!!"
     I sighed. "Ok, allright, keep your voice down. So how long have you
known?" My voice faltered. I suddenly felt very little, and exposed...
     "I wasn't sure until today. But I've had my suspicions for a whole lot
longer... But that doesn't matter. Tell me about Charlie. I wanna know how
you met him." She sat down on my bed, and made herself comfortable, ready
to probe me for all the juicy details. For a while, I said nothing. I had
to adapt to the situation. So my sister knew, and she didn't
mind. Actually, this was a good thing. I now had someone to talk to about
all this...

     "There's a kind of gay-bar in Leiden. I went there Thursday. He was
there too."
     "You like him, don't you?"
     "Yeah..."
     "Is he handsome?"
     "Kinda. He's got blonde hair that hangs into his eyes. He's smart. He
has this really cool, Matrix-like coat, all the way to his ankles. He's not
very tall, I'm taller. And he lives together with three others that are all
like, two metres tall, so they make him look really small..."
     "You've been to his house?"
     "Yes, on Friday..."
     "Wooooow!" she roared. "So, it's really serious then?"
     "Well, no, I mean, I like him, yes. And he says he likes me..."
     "Cool. So, when are you going to tell mom and dad?"  I froze. "You'll
have to!" she insited. I shook my head. Not yet.
     "I'll tell em if you don't!" she threatened.
     "Then I'll tell em that you smoke."
     "Oh, big deal," she sneered, "I bet they know already!"
     "I wasn't talking about your cigarettes," I said calmly. Inside, I
felt like screaming, I knew I was being cruel, but I also knew I would do
ANYTHING to keep my secret right now. "Think about it," I said, walked
around the room pretending to talk to our mother, "Mom, I'm worried about
Ciryll. I heared she and her friends go to Happy Days in Lisse, you know,
the coffeeshop...?" Ciryll opened her mouth wide in indignation and wagged
her finger at me. We stared at each other for a moment.

    "Ok," she said finally, "So we're even. I'll cover for you, and you'll
cover up for me." I nodded. "Thanks for keeping that a secret, by the
way. I had no idea that you knew... I mean, it was only once, but they'd
explode..." I smiled.
    "Hey, you're my little sister! I wouldn't rat on you."

                                   ***

Like this? Want me to go on? THEN MAIL ME!  WillieHewes@yahoo.com