Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2008 13:18:23 -0400
From: ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: A Bridge to Yesterday  Chapter 4

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and
find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to
the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at
ronyx@themustardjar.com with your comments. Ronxy is a prolific Nifty
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A Bridge to Yesterday     Chapter 4



"Ladies and Gentlemen. We are now descending and will arrive in less than
five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you for flying with us."

It had been a long flight. I looked over at Tina and she was looking out
the window. She had said hardly a half dozen words to me during the four
hour flight home. She was still upset that I hadn't answered my phone for
hours when she called to inform me of my father's death.

He had suffered a massive heart attack while mowing the yard earlier in the
day. According to my mother, the medics said he probably was dead before he
hit the ground. He had suffered a couple of minor heart attacks over the
past several years, but you're still never prepared for something like
this.

I had talked to him on the phone last week, and he sounded tired. He had
retired a few years earlier and he had developed a passion for playing
golf. Mother said he spent more time at the country club than he did at
home. When I talked to him, he had just finished eighteen holes and was in
the club house drinking a martini. Little did I know it would be the last
time I'd talk to him.

My mother was waiting in the lobby of the airport when we arrived. I was
also surprised to see Star sitting beside her. I was astonished. by my
mother's appearance. She looked old; much older than I remembered her
looking last Christmas, the last time Tina and I had visited.

She stood and rushed into my arms when she saw us come down the long
corridor as we disembarked. She buried her head into my chest and
cried. "It's just me and you now, Gene," she whispered softly. I held her
as she sobbed. Star came up and rubbed her gently on her back. Tina stood
back, apparently unsure of what to do.

Star looked amazing. She seemed so full of poise and grace. She had matured
into a beautiful woman. She was like a sister to me, and we had always
welcomed her into our home as if she was one of the family.

"Hey, Gene." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "I'm so
sorry," she said. She then turned and gave Tina a hug. I walked over to the
turnstile and retrieved our luggage that had just appeared. I was trying to
balance four pieces, when Star walked over and took two of the lightest.

Tina put her arm around my mother and led the way out of the terminal. She
and my mother had always been very good friends. I think it was their
desire to have grandchildren that bonded their relationship. It was always
after our visits home that Tina would insist that we try and have
children. Our arguments would last for several months before she'd final
relent, realizing that I would never want children.

"Is everything alright?" Star asked. She looked at Tina and then back at
me.

"Same old, same old," I laughed nervously. Star and I had had many long
conversations about my relationship with Tina. Since she was one of the few
people who knew what had happened in high school, I felt more comfortable
talking to her. She had tried for several years to get me to break up with
Tina. I refused to tell Tina the truth, but Star still persisted.

The ride home was surreal. I felt like a stranger in the car. Tina sat in
the back seat, trying to console my mother, and Star sat in the passenger's
seat and stared at me out of the corner of her eye. I'd glance over a few
times, but she'd look quickly away.

Cars were parked up and down the street when we arrived. No one had parked
in the long drive, allowing us to drive up to the front of the house. As we
got out, several people came out and greeted us.

Most were unfamiliar to me. I found out later that they were dad's golfing
buddies and members of the lodge he had attended for over forty years. Some
I remembered seeing when I was a teenager, but since I had moved two
thousand miles away, I had lost contact with all my parents'
acquaintances. I was glad, though, that my mother had a lot of support from
friends. I was overcome with guilt, because I felt I had abandoned her over
the years and she and my father lived a life unknown to me. Visiting for
two weeks every couple of years at Christmas now made me feel like a
stranger in my former home.

I spent the next hour walking around the house, mingling with the
mourners. People told me how sorry they were for my loss, but it seemed
like empty sentiments. Most of them knew that I had estranged myself from
my parents when I left high school and attended college.

My mother had an understanding of why I left. She had forced me to seek
counseling after that incident in Billy Joe's barn, and she was aware of my
struggle with my sexuality. Unlike Star, who thought I should leave Tina,
my mother thought that having children might strengthen our relationship
and make me a better husband. I'd usually leave after our visits and head
for the nearest bar when I returned back home. It would take me months to
dissuade Tina from my mother's influence.

I walked around the house trying to find some place to get away from the
strangers who kept approaching me and offering their condolences. Somehow,
I found myself in my parents' bedroom. I closed the door and plopped down
exhausted on the bed.

I closed my eyes for a minute, and when I opened them, I noticed a familiar
picture on the wall. I walked over and took it down and clutched it to my
chest. It was a picture of Allen and me. He was about fourteen and I was
eleven. My father had taken it just as we had come sledding down a large
embankment behind our house. We had toppled over and I was pinned under
Allen. His face was full of laughter while mine contained a painful
grimace. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered that cold, December
afternoon. I think it was one of the last times I ever saw Allen laugh, at
least until Joey came into his life.

I was still staring at the blurry picture when Star tiptoed into the room
and sat quietly beside me. She took the picture from my hands and held
it. I listened as she cried softly beside me. She lay her head on my
shoulder and muttered softly, "I miss him so much."

"He loved you like a sister," I informed her. "When the world turned away
from him, you remained right by his side." Her soft crying turned into loud
sobbing. I put my hand around her and pulled her nearer to me. It was
several minutes before either of us said anything.

Star wiped the tears from her eyes, and then looked at me and laughed. She
reached up and wiped my eyes dry. "We look like two big babies," she
smiled.

"I guess some things never change, do they?" I laughed.

Just then there was a soft knock on the door. Ticker poked his head in and
saw us sitting beside each other. He walked over and I stood. He embraced
me tightly, as only he could do.

"I'm really sorry, Gene," he said sympathetically. "If there's anything I
can do." I nodded and he hugged me again.

"I guess we should go back downstairs," I said to Star. I took her hand and
led her from the bedroom with Ticker trailing behind us.

As I descended the stairs and entered the living room, I stopped
suddenly. On the other side of the room Joey was talking to my
mother. There was a young boy standing beside him and Joey had his arm
protectively around his shoulder.

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

"I'm really happy, Allen." It was Sunday afternoon. For the past five years
I come to Allen's graveside and place fresh flowers in a vase beside his
tombstone. Today they were red and white carnations.

"He's a great kid," I choke back the words. "You'd love him. And now he's
my son, our son. Can you believe it? We're dads."

I know it sounds funny, but I want Allen to share my excitement. I want my
happiness to be his happiness. When I sit in front of his grave, I always
feel he is with me. I can feel his love surging inside me. For several
years it was the only thing that sustained me.

"I wish you were here with us," I say tearfully. "He'd love you. You're
both so much alike-so full of life. But I guess you already know that."


I carefully rearranged the carnations, making sure that they were perfectly
set according to color- red, white, red, white. Actually, it was more
because of nerves. Something had been troubling me for the past year.

"Listen, Allen." I begin. "I don't want you to think that just because
Nicky has come into my life that I love you any less. I know that since
he's been with me that I don't think about you as often. But my love for
you has never diminished."

I sit quietly, listening to the gentle wind blowing through the trees just
behind me. Then I know. "You wanted to see me happy. You always told my you
didn't care that I love someone else, as long as I love." I start to
smile. "Just how much did you have a hand in bringing Nicky to me?"

A chill went up my spine as I close my eyes and hear Allen laugh. I arise,
kiss the marble headstone and walk cheerfully to my car. Allen's love will
forever be with me, I know that in my heart.

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

"I need to talk to you, Doc." Douglas Campbell paced nervously around my
office, and then he walked over and closed the door. "This is important."

Douglas, the senior class president, had stopped me in the hallway the day
before and asked if he could schedule an appointment with me. I assumed he
had something he wanted to discuss about graduation at the end of May, but
his nervousness indicated that it was something unrelated to a class
activity.

"Would you sit down and stop pacing around the room," I laughed. "I'm
getting dizzy watching you." He stopped in the center of the room, and for
a moment I felt he was going to burst into tears. He walked over, pulled a
chair up to my desk and leaned forward.

"Can we talk, like private? Man to man?" He was whispering, afraid that
someone in the outer office might hear.

"Of course, Douglas," I assured him. "Anything you tell me will be
confidential. That is, unless you confess to murder or something." I
laughed, trying to make the situation lighter, but he merely frowned and
rolled his eyes.

"You know that Jason and Travis are trying to form this gay group here at
school?" He waited for my response.

"Yes," I said. "I was the one who suggested it. I've wanted a gay student
alliance here for quite some time."

He stared me in the eyes. I could tell he was struggling to say
something. Finally, he sighed and said, "I want to join it." Tears welled
up in his eyes as he again awaited my response.

"That's great, Douglas," I said excitedly. "Jason and Travis will be
thrilled. Your leadership skills will be invaluable." He slumped down in
his chair and let out another sigh.

"There's a problem with that." He fidgeted in his seat, again carefully
measuring his words. "I don't think you understand." He paused before
continuing, "I'm gay."

"I see." I sat back in my chair and studied him for a minute. "You're not
out?" Tears fell from down his cheeks as he shook his head.

"They're so excited about this," he replied. "They're going all around the
school trying to get other kids involved. I've been in the closet since I
was thirteen, and just watching them being proud of who they are, I don't
know, it makes me want to, I don't know, maybe come out or something."

He put his head in his hands and wept quietly. I got up and walked around
the desk and placed my hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with
being gay," I assured him.

"I know that," he turned and looked up at me. "But I'm the class
president. What would people say?"

"Even class presidents can be gay," I smiled. He seemed to relax a little.

"Do your parents know?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I think they may suspect. I'm eighteen and
I've never really had a girlfriend. My mom has thrown out a couple of hints
the past couple of months. I think she wants me to tell her."

I gently squeezed his shoulder. "Douglas, I've met your parents. They are
wonderful individuals. I don't think they'll think any less of you if you
are gay."

"But I'm an only son," he said sadly.

"So was I," I responded before I realized what I had said. He swirled
around in his chair and stared at me.


"Doc," he said disbelievingly. "You mean?" I pulled up a chair and sat
beside him.

"I told you that anything you said would be confidential," I said. "I
expect the same respect from you."


"You have my word on that," he kissed his finger and crossed his heart. He
leaned toward me and asked seriously, "Tell me how you handled it." I gave
him a very condensed version of my high school experience, leaving out the
sordid details. I trusted him, but I didn't think it was important that he
know all the depressing aspects of my teenage years. Besides, I was trying
to get him to feel comfortable about accepting himself. My life experience
would have depressed him.

"But you said your parents kicked you out of the house," he said
worriedly. "What if my parents do that to me?"


"The point I was trying to make, is that my parents weren't good parents,"
I replied. "Your parents are caring and supportive. They love you
deeply. I've seen the pride in their faces when you are involved in some
school activity."

"I still don't know," he sat back with a worried look. "What if they're not
proud of me anymore once I tell them?"

"I've been around a long time," I assured him. "I've become a pretty good
judge of people. I think you being gay won't affect your parents love for
you."

He sat back and shook his head. I could tell he was really struggling with
his emotions.

"I have an idea," I said. "Are you willing to take a chance and come out to
Jason and Travis?" I watched as his mind began to comprehend my suggestion.

"I think so," he replied apprehensively. "Are they out to their parents?"

"Yes," I said. "They told me they were. Maybe talking to them about it will
help you make a decision." He nodded his approval.

"When should I talk to them?" He asked.

"How about now?" He thought for a minute and nodded his head.

I got on the phone and called my secretary. "Delores. Would you check and
see what classes Jason Thompson and Travis Armstrong are in right now. Then
contact their teachers and ask them to report to my office."

Ten minutes later, Jason and Travis peeked their head in my office. Their
eyes widened when they saw Douglas sitting in the room.

"Gentlemen, come in." I cheerfully waved them into the room. "I think you
know Douglas Campbell." Both boys walked over and shook Douglas's hand. "He
has some things he'd like to discuss with you."

I walked over to the door. "I'll leave you boys alone for a while. Ask my
secretary for a pass back to class when you finish." I then closed the door
and walked away. I strolled the hall whistling a tune I'd heard earlier on
the car radio.

I returned to my office about a half hour later. The three young men were
leaving the office and talking animatedly as they walked down the
hall. Douglas turned and saw me approaching. He gave me a wide grin and a
thumbs up as Travis put his arm on his shoulder and led him away.

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

When I arrived home, I immediately sensed that something was wrong. Star
was sitting alone in the family room. She was holding a tissue in her hand
and wiping tears from her eyes. My heart sunk. Since I didn't see Nicky
anywhere, I was afraid something had happened to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked nervously. "What's happened?"

She stood up and walked over to me. "Mr. Albright is dead." I felt
immediately relieved that is wasn't Nicky, but it didn't minimize the
sorrow I felt.

Mr. Albright had become an extremely good friend over the years. When I met
Allen, I instantly hated him for how he had treated him. His stepfather's
homophobia had caused Allen to leave home, leaving him virtually alone in
the world. If it hadn't been for his mother, Allen would not have survived
those earlier years.

His bitterness had also turned Gene against him. Gene lived in constant
fear that his father would find out that he too was gay. It took several
years of counseling to make him get over his father's influence.

But when Allen became sick, and we decided that he would return home to
die, it was his stepfather who provided strength to all of us. He never
left his beside, and was with us both when Allen took his final
breath. Mr. Albright took care of all the final arrangements that Allen and
I had planned in advance. Not once did he question any decision we made. He
even had his personal lawyer check over our joint banking account to
prevent anyone from challenging my legal status.

Mr. and Mrs. Albright were frequent dinner guests, and Nicky and I were
often asked over to dinner at their home. They adored Nicky, and they
treated him as if he was their own son. On several occasions we argued over
them buying him things that I had told him he couldn't have. Not that he
couldn't have them, but I expected him to earn them. They, however, would
merely appear one night and secretly give them to him when I wasn't
watching.

I sat down, numb from the news of his passing. It took me several minutes
before I could respond. Star had sat beside me, holding my hand and gently
rubbing it.

"Does Nicky know?" I asked. I knew Mr. Albright's passing would be very
difficult for him. He was extremely close to him, and thought of him as a
grandfather.

Star shook her head. "No," she said. "I thought it was best that you tell
him."

"What happened?" All she had told me was that he had died. She explained
how Mrs. Albright had gone out into the yard and found him lying dead with
the lawn mower still idling.

"How is she?"

"She's holding up," Star said. "This was so unexpected. They were drinking
coffee together in the kitchen just a half hour earlier. She said he was
cheerful and there was no indication that anything was wrong. Gene and Tina
are flying in from California." She looked at her watch. "They will be
arriving soon. She asked me to drive to the airport with her and pick them
up."

Star and I stood. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "You'd better
go tell Nicky. Come by the Albright house later. Ticker and I will be
there, and I'm sure Gene would like to see you again." I walked her to the
door and watched as she got in her car and drove away.

I let out a deep sigh, and then turned and headed up the stairs to Nicky's
room. What do you say to a kid whose life had undergone so many changes
over the past two years. He had formed bonds and placed unconditional trust
in his new family. Now one of those bonds was broken. How does a thirteen
year old boy deal with such a loss?

Even though I knew Nicky was mature beyond his young years, he never ceased
to amaze me. I guess loosing his mother at eleven had strengthened his
character. He cried when I told him of Mr. Albright's death, but his main
concern was for me.

He was worried how the death of Allen's father would affect me. Like him,
he knew that I had no family, or at least one that I could claim. The
Albright's had become my surrogate family. I had told him about Allen's
death and how Mr. Albright had been a source of strength and comfort to me
following his loss.

"You gonna be okay, Dad?" He asked worriedly as he put his head on my
shoulder. Tearfully, I leaned over and kissed him on his forehead.

"You know I love you, don't you?" He smiled widely.

"Yeah," he giggled. "I kinda figured that out." I pulled him into another
hug.

"Why don't we go out to dinner," I suggested, "and then we'll stop by the
Albright home. Aunt Star and Uncle Ticker will be there. You can also meet
your Uncle Gene. He's Allen's younger brother. You haven't met him yet."

"Isn't he that blonde guy in the football jersey?" He asked. I had
forgotten that I had shown him the picture of Gene taken in high school
when he played on the football team. Mrs. Albright had given it to Allen
when he once asked for a picture of Gene. It had been one of Allen's
favorite pictures.

"Yep," I said. "However, I'm sure he doesn't look like that today." I
hadn't seen Gene in a couple of years, but the last time he visited he
still looked remarkably handsome. The years had been kind him. While I
seemed to always grow older, Star and Gene were like Peter Pan- they never
seemed to age.

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

After I saw Joey talking to my mother, I retreated without them seeing me
and headed out onto the back deck and took a seat by the pool. I listened
while the water bubbled gently along the sides. A few minutes later I heard
the door open and Star walked out and approached me. She handed me an iced
tea, and then she took the seat beside me.

"You alright?" She asked softly. "I know how hard this must be for you."

"Yeah, right," I answered sarcastically. Star gave me a quizzical look.

To be honest, I really didn't care that my father was dead. I had spent
years in therapy trying to undo the psychological damage he did to
me. Parents can go to jail for physically abusing their children, but no
one says a damn word when a parent destroys a young child's mind.

I had grown to hate him since I was a teenager. I struggled with my
sexuality since I was about twelve, but then I saw how he treated Allen. He
destroyed him. I knew that if he ever found out that I shared the same
traits, he'd disown and destroy me also.

So I spent years in therapy, and I eventually denied that I was gay. Oh, I
was gay, but I hid it so deeply, placed it in a box and never to be
opened. But then Joey came into my life. I was immediately attracted to
him, but I could never confess it to him or myself. It killed me when he
met my brother and they became lovers. They were so happy. So damned happy-
and I was almost destroyed again.

So I ran. About as far away as I could go. Two thousand miles on the other
coast. I married and lived a life I grew to hate. All because of him.

If I had only had Allen's strength. Most people found him weak, but to me
he was like a God. He stood up to that beast- my father. When Dad called
him a fag, he said, "Fuck you!" Fuck you. He actually said that to my
father. Of course, Dad put him out of the house, but he stood his ground. I
was so proud of him.

Years later, when Allen lay dying, Dad tried to make amends. Allen was too
sick to care, and Joey found it admirable. But to me, it was the old man
trying to find absolution. He needed to seek forgiveness before it was too
late. Allen gave it to him.

But what about me? Did he one time try to make amends with me? He didn't
even care. On the times Tina and I returned home to visit during holidays,
he hardly had anything to say to me. In his eyes, I had become the prodigal
son.

But when I saw Joey tonight, all the old hurt resurfaced. Joey could have
been mine if Dad had been more tolerant and understanding. If only he
hadn't hated so much, then I could have told Joey how I felt about him.

I did once, one dark night and with too much to drink. I kissed him on that
porch. That kiss that almost destroyed my life. That kiss, if Dad had
discovered, would have destined me to a life of loneliness like it did
Allen.

Ironically though, Dad's actions was the beginning in a chain of events
that eventually brought Allen and Joey together. Allen once told me how he
and Joey met. Two lost guys on a bridge with nothing but despair. Two guys
on a mission to end their lives, only to be brought closer together. A
mission that ruined my only chance at love.

"Gene?" Star's voice shook me from my somber thoughts.

"Who was that boy with Joey tonight?" I looked over and Star was watching
me thoughtfully. After an awkward minute, she spoke.

"I guess you haven't heard yet," she said. "That's Nicky. Joey's son."

I looked over at Star in disbelief. "His son?"

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

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