Date: Mon, 23 Dec 2002 22:50:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Ehman Penn <ehman_penn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Matthew Figures It Out - Part 11

This is the continuation of the first story I've ever
written. The feedback has been great and has given me the
confidence to pursue a different story line than I had
originally planned. Please continue sending your honest
feedback to ehman_penn@yahoo.com

This story is 100% fiction and about 15% true. Don't read it
if there's any chance that doing so might send you or the
author to jail. This story is also copyrighted by the author
and cannot be altered or reproduced without his consent.

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

Matthew Figures It Out - Part 11


"Well, we've got to do something. Poor Chris has to be
terrified living with that man." Mom wasn't going to be
content to sit idly by and do nothing.

There was a long uncomfortable silent pause as the
helplessness started to set in.

"Matt, this is something that should be reported to the
authorities. I'm afraid it's too big for us." There was
defeat and sadness in my dad's eyes. He didn't want to break
up Chris's family, poor excuse for a real family that it
was.

In reality, my mom and dad were more powerless on this one
than I was. Chris's dad wasn't the kind of man you just sat
down and reasoned with, and this type of disguised and
unreasonable violence wasn't simply going to go away on its
own. Still, every action would bring a reaction and we had
to choose our actions carefully.

"Chris won't go along with it." He had all but told me so.

For better or worse, it was still his family. There was more
at work here than met the eye. Without Chris's admission and
cooperation, there was little the authorities would do
anyhow.

I continued. "I think in some ways he's protecting his mom.
I think he's afraid she would be the one getting hurt
instead of him."

My own poor mother grimaced with pain and fresh tears and
the defeat in my dad's face deepened.

"You know what he told me? He told me not to worry because
he `could take it'." I paused to give them time to fully
absorb his bravery. I know he had to be scared, but he
refused to be emotionally paralyzed by his dad's abuse.

"I don't want him to have to take it either, but I need to
talk to him more. I don't want anything to happen that might
make things even worse for him." New frustration and
puzzlement seeped from their faces as I said it.

Still, I hadn't come this far to give Chris over to pain and
abuse. There had to be some safe passage out of this
treacherous maze. I had won a battle or two along the way so
far, but my mission was still incomplete. I still had to win
back the life of the boy I loved. The warrior was armed with
fresh reinforcements, much heart and renewed determination.
Now he needed a strategy.

We finally made our way back upstairs, but the time for
pancakes had past. Pancakes didn't seem appropriate to the
lingering concern that was in the air. Chris was now `home'
and had at minimum taken a severe tongue lashing. I wondered
if he was sticking to his original story. His dad hadn't
appeared to be buying it on the phone, but it would be hard
to prove Chris wrong for sure. In his mother's condition,
she wouldn't be able to remember even if he HAD told her he
was spending the night with us. At least, he had seemed
confident that his dad wouldn't hurt him again soon.

The best thing I could hope for was that he might receive
only the same type of verbal abuse I had witnessed on my
first visit to his house. It hurt me to have to accept such
low expectations for his well-being.

The atmosphere in the Jordan household had changed. The
truth had been revealed and our adjustment with each other
had officially begun. My mom and dad seemed to smile at me
more. I welcomed that and needed their reassurances, but I
also didn't want them to be too obvious or heavy with it. I
realized it wasn't easy for them and I tried to support them
in their efforts to support me.

Coming out to my parents was hardly the same as coming out
to the rest of the world, though. I felt no need or desire
to make that public declaration yet. First, it involved much
more than just me. Second, it wasn't the most important
mission in my life right now. One crusade at a time was
still more than I could handle.

"Just so we understand each other, all of this stays between
us, right? I mean everything, about me AND about Chris." We
needed to be a tight ship. Any small leak could bring us
down. I had no reason to think my parents would run out in
the streets and exclaim it all, but I also needed to make
sure we were in full agreement. This was the Deep South
after all and rumors spread here at light speed.

They looked a little surprised at the formality of my
request but nodded in agreement and my dad gave me a verbal
"OK, Matt." I nodded back making eye contact with both of
them before I went upstairs to my room.

The rest of the day crawled by in comparison to the rapid
events of the morning. I mostly lounged around on my bed in
idle thought, wishing Chris was there with me. I hoped he
would call, but I was sure he wouldn't be able to. I feared
that his dad would punish both of us and prevent him from
coming over again anytime soon. At least basketball was
about to start and we would have time there together,
assuming Chris actually passed his algebra test Monday. We
just wouldn't have any alone-time.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I needed him. I
needed to touch him. I needed to hold him and be held by
him. I needed his lips against mine. I also found myself
needing and missing the things I hadn't even had yet.

I drifted off into a late afternoon nap. When I awoke, it
was almost dark outside. The phone rang and I raced to
answer it.

"Hey, Mattie." I wanted it to be Chris, but I was still glad
to hear from Tommy.

"Hey, TJ." I had never called him that and he giggled when
he heard it.

"I was calling to see if you wanted to come over and ride
horses tomorrow afternoon. Chris can come too, if he wants."
Tommy wasn't the chattiest of phone callers. He normally got
right to his business.

"I'd love to. Chris has already gone home. Long story, I'll
explain later. Let me make sure it's OK with mom and dad."

Of course it was OK. Who would deny their son the chance to
ride a horse?

"What time, Tommy?"

"Around two would be good. That will leave us about three
hours before it starts to get dark. My mom wanted to know if
you could stay for supper too."

"I don't see why not. I'll see you at two. Oh Tommy, do I
need boots? I don't have any that still fit."

Tommy giggled again. "No, you don't need a cowboy hat
either. Just bring some old sneakers you don't mind getting
muddy."

"Great. See you at two then."

As soon as I hung up the phone, my mind turned back to
Chris. There was heaviness in my spirit. I had often felt
alone in my early life, sometimes very alone. Now it seemed
different. I didn't just feel alone. Now I was also missing
someone I wanted to be with. This was a much more potent
blend of loneliness.

After dinner, I spent the rest of the night studying for
Monday's tests. Just before I was about to turn in, mom came
to my room. I wasn't surprised. Most of the morning's drama
revolved around me and dad. I knew she still had things she
needed to say to me. She came in and sat down on the bed.
This was going to be emotional.

"Mom, did you know? I mean, have you always known?" A part
of me always believed she did. That same part of me always
needed to believe she did, and that she had loved me just
the same.

"Matthew, I always knew you were very, very special. I know
you've suffered. You've done it quietly, but it was never
unnoticed and you were never in it alone." There was love
pouring from my mom's eyes. "And I always hoped that someone
special would find you, that you'd find each other, someone
who deserved you. I'm not at all surprised or disappointed
that it was Chris. I think he needs you, son. I believe you
need him, too."

This was a moment than transcended time, space, and life
itself. My mom was acknowledging that I was starting to pass
from her care and that I was now very early in my journey
into adulthood. Her time of being first in my heart was
passing, though my love for her would never diminish and
never fade away. At some point, we all begin the process of
separation from those who gave us life. My mother was
determined to finish her watch over me with the same grace
and care with which she started it.

"Mom, I was really proud of dad." At times, my mother and I
had kept lonely company with each other as my dad advanced
his career. I knew that he was mostly doing this to provide
for us, but it also made me wonder at times where we stood
with him. Though we had never discussed it, I think my mom
and I both wondered that same thought sometimes.

"I was proud of him too, Matt. I was very proud of both of
you."

By this point, I was squeezing her tight, not sure I would
ever be ready and willing to let her go. No matter what
happened, I always wanted my mom nearby in my life. If I
couldn't give her the grandkids she no doubt wanted, at
least I could give her another son.

We all finally made our way to bed. This day was like no
other in our lives and it marked a turning point for all of
us.

I had finally broken through and declared my love for Chris
and exposing myself fully to my parents in the process. With
their love and support, I could now someday be the full
version of whoever I might become.

My dad had his own breakthrough and had finally started to
come to terms with a pain that had held him in its grip for
so long. He had also stepped up and now seemed fully
committed to pouring himself into his family's life as much
as his work life.

Then there was my mom: she who could always see the bigger
picture, patiently watching the movements through time. She
had come to a deeper acceptance than I could have ever fully
understood and she loved me enough to start letting me go.

Our family seemed incomplete. I closed my eyes and tried to
reach him. I imagined that he was here with us, safe and
secure with the full benefits of love that I so enjoyed. My
mind had almost convinced me that he was here, but when my
hand reached out to touch him, reality snapped back into
clear focus. The warrior would sleep with a heavy heart
tonight.

On Sunday morning, we finally had our pancakes. It still
didn't seem right and there was a quiet tension in the air
with nervous eyes dancing around the table.

"I'm going to call him."

But what if Chris didn't answer? If I just hung up, it might
be obvious who it was. If I spoke, that would be even more
obvious.

I enlisted my mother in a deliberate act of deception, but
an innocent one designed only to prevent any further
irritation within the Briggs household. My mom would call
and give me the phone if Chris picked up. If someone else
picked up, she would say `sorry, wrong number' and hang up.

I nervously waited, looking her intently in the eyes as she
listened for an answer. We waited, and waited. Finally, she
shook her head and hung up.

Well, if they weren't at home, that was probably a good
thing. I was happier knowing that Chris was anywhere other
than inside that house. We tried again an hour later and
still got no answer. I tried to maintain my optimism, but it
was getting harder to hold onto. We tried again one final
time before I left for Tommy's house. Still no answer and my
nervousness was growing.

By the time we got to Tommy's, I was in major need of
distraction. Tommy didn't disappoint me. In truth, he never
did and I had a growing admiration for him in my heart. I
really wanted us to be brothers. In the back of my mind, I
knew I had to be careful not to make him think I wanted
more. Whatever attraction he had for me could only hurt him
because I belonged to Chris.

"Mattie, come with me down to the barn. I want to show you
something." He was beaming like a proud new father, which in
a way he was.

"Oh, man!" Beyond that, I was speechless at the amazing
sight now before me.

In a small corner of the barn, inside a smaller section of
boards that made a box-shaped frame the size of a small bed,
were at least eight tiny chocolate lab puppies. They were
nestled tightly up against their mother, constantly crawling
over each other for better position.

"That's Molly." Just as he said it, Tucker - the real daddy
- showed up, making sure to claim his doing.

"Tucker! You horn-dog, you!" Tucker looked at me with tongue
and tail wagging, truly a proud dad.

Molly was the picture of motherhood in nature and I couldn't
take my eyes off her pups. I had never seen puppies so
young. If their eyes were even open, I couldn't tell, but
they sniffed and snorted their way along, never losing
contact for long with the source of nourishment they needed.

This was just the distraction I needed and I could have
watched those puppies for the rest of the day.

"Tommy, what are you going to do with all these puppies? You
sure are going to have a lot of dogs running around here."

"We usually keep one out of the litter and sell the rest.
Heck, sometimes we give them away if it means they'll find a
better home. My dad won't let just anyone buy them. If he
gets a bad feeling about someone, he'll just say no."

I was happy to know that Tommy had a dad like that. It spoke
volumes for him as a parent. I always thought people should
have to safely raise a puppy before they could have a kid of
their own. There would be a lot less kids running around if
that idea ever caught on.

"Well, are you ready to get started?" As he said it, Tommy
looked down at the old raggedy sneakers I had worn and he
smiled. He had on a pair of riding boots and if he'd only
had a big hat, he could have passed for a genuine cowboy.

"It's another first for me Tommy. The only other horse I've
ridden had a pole through his back and went around in
circles. You taught me how to drive a four-wheeler; I guess
you can teach me how to drive a horse too."

Tommy laughed so hard I thought he was going to cry. I think
even Tucker laughed at me.

"You'll be DRIVING Sky. I'll be RIDING Stryker." He was
having a lot of fun with this.

Tommy tried to explain their Arabian heritage, but that was
more information than I could absorb at the moment. It was
enough for me that they were just simply such beautiful
horses, and both had shiny brown coats.

He gave me the basics and assured me that Sky was quite
gentle. "Plant, hook and pull" and I was in the saddle. My
first reaction was surprise at how high up it seemed. My
second reaction was pure awe at the realization of the full
beauty and power that I was now stationed on. This was a
dream come true for me, as I had always wanted to ride a
horse.

We started a slow gallop. Tommy smiled, pleased once again
to have educated me in the ways of his world. I felt all the
better for the education and appreciated him more than ever.

I also learned that riding a horse slowly around the
countryside made great opportunity for conversation. I got
Tommy all caught up on the events of Saturday morning
culminating in Coach Brigg's disturbing visit to our house.
I tried to be careful to leave out things that might make
either of us uncomfortable, specifically anything intimate
between me and Chris.

"Coach Briggs isn't real well liked in my family."

"Why? What happened?" He had my attention. I was very
interested in all things related to Chris's family and clues
that might reveal the mysteries that stalked me.

"Well, you know how I was telling you my dad won't sell a
puppy to just anyone?" He raised his brow and passed a frown
my way.

"No way! Your dad wouldn't sell him a puppy?" Andy Johnson
was quickly becoming my hero.

"This was several years ago. I must have been eight or nine,
but I still remember it. Coach Briggs got pretty mad about
it and called my dad some things he didn't appreciate being
called."

"What did your dad do?" My fantasy was that he beat Coach
Briggs to a pulp, but I couldn't really imagine affable Andy
doing that.

"My dad is pretty laid-back even when he's mad, but let me
tell you, my mom is a different story. She heard Coach
yelling at him, and the shit hit the fan big-time!"

My mouth was wide open in anticipation. Mental note to self:
Give Tommy's mom a big hug.

"She got really wound up and started screaming at him about
how he wouldn't even help take care of his own son and such
as that."

"Did he say anything back?"

"Not a word and it was the wise thing to do. You really
don't want to see my mom get fired up like that."

It was hard for me to picture, but then the South was full
of things that were hard to believe and understand. Betty
Johnson had been so sweet and polite to me on my last trip
to their home. She was not a small lady and I could only
imagine what a ball of fire she could be when she got all of
her wheels rolling in the same direction.

"What did she mean by that, Tommy: that he wouldn't help
take care of his own son?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I think he's just always had a bad
reputation around here. She said some more stuff too, but I
could only remember that first little bit. She kept
screaming at him even after he had pulled his truck down the
drive and was out of sight. I was under the bed by then.
She's really not mean, Matt. She can just get really wound
up. My dad always says that if you do anything bad enough to
get her real mad, then you probably deserved what was coming
to you."

It was good to hear that somebody gave Coach Briggs what he
`deserved'. Another mental note to self: Don't get Tommy's
mom pissed off.

"His dad's been beating him. That's why Chris missed that
day of school this week."

That statement was like a dagger to all who heard it. It
always brought a painful grimace from the receiver.

"He had really bad bruises all over his back and ribs."
Tommy's grimace was mixed with something else now.

"I know I don't have to say it, but don't mention any of
this to anyone. As much as I would like for your mother to
go kick Coach Brigg's ass, that might not be the best thing
right now."

"She'd probably try if she found out about that." He
conceded with a sigh. "I knew he was a real hard-ass, but I
didn't know he was like that. How is Chris holding up?"

"He just amazes me. He's really tough, Tommy. He's really
brave too. I don't know how he takes all the abuse he does,
not just the physical stuff. It's always something at that
house. Somebody is stumbling around drunk or his dad
screaming and putting him down."

The beauty of the countryside had lost is powers of
distraction for me. Why hadn't there been an answer when we
had tried to call Chris earlier? Now that the full ugly
truth was known to me, I would always fear for him anytime I
knew he was there. I couldn't shield him from the abuse and
I was destined to share his pain.

"I'm going to try out for JV basketball." I had been
reluctant to mention this to him. It was a major time
commitment that might leave less free time for him and would
possibly join me with a group that didn't directly include
him. I had feared that this revelation would hurt his
feelings.

"I didn't know you even played basketball." He did seem
surprised but not hurt.

"Chris has sort of been teaching me. We've practiced a few
times after school. I probably won't even make the team."

"There's some other big news too. I told my parents
about..about me." Tommy's eyes widened and there was genuine
surprise in his face.

"It was really tough, but I'm glad that I did it. They took
it very well. I don't think my mom was surprised at all. My
dad was, but he's going to be OK. I found out that I'm not
the first one in our family. My Uncle Heath, dad's brother,
was gay too."

"Maybe you can talk to him about it, Mattie. It might be
good to talk with someone who could understand everything
you're going through."

"He's not alive anymore. I found out that he died from AIDS,
before I was born." Tommy's face had fear written all over
it now.

"Don't worry, Tommy. I'll be OK. All right?" There was far
more to worry about than me.

Mainly, I just didn't want Tommy to worry about anything. I
had leaned on him and taken much more than I had been able
to give him in return.

It was getting almost dark and there was a wonderfully
delicious smell coming from the house as we made our way
back from the barn after putting the horses up.

Betty Johnson was in full Southern glory and there was a
table filled with enough food for a king. Piles of crispy
fried chicken, mounds of mouth-watering mashed potatoes,
logs of corn on the cob, walls of home-made biscuits stacked
a foot-high in the air, a giant tub of some type of cobbler,
plus green beans, and sliced onions (Vidalia's, as I would
be told later).

"Wow!" I flashed Betty a huge wide grin as I scanned the
massive spread. "Who else is coming?"

Betty giggled like a little schoolgirl and blushed her way
over to me apologizing that there were no fresh tomatoes or
squash, as both of those were out of season. She had taken
the corn and beans from her frozen home-grown stock from
this past summer, along with the peaches that filled the
cobbler.

As we dug in and the elbows started flying, I quickly
realized that no other dinner guests would be required to
quench this bounty of food. Andy and Betty were virtual
carnivores and the fried chicken was going fast. The biggest
surprise of all was wiry little Tommy. That boy could eat
and eat and eat. My eyes rotated around the table in awe.
Besides an occasional grunt or slurp, there was little in
the way of verbal communication until we got to desert.

"Matthew, you are such a sweet young man. I bet the girls at
school are just falling all over themselves to talk to you."
Betty scared me just a little with the use of the word
`sweet'. It wasn't safe to be mistaken for any form of
desert in this house.

I smiled nervously. Tommy looked completely perplexed.

 "Oh now, don't let her embarrass you, son." Andy was my
hero again.

"Mrs. Johnson, this is a really wonderful dinner. I can't
remember the last time I ate so much."

It was wonderful. Betty was an accomplished cook, probably
many generations over. She lit up with joy at my words. She
was the kind of woman who could devour a compliment too.

"We're afraid Tommy might have a case of the worms. Any boy
that eats like him should way at least 300 pounds." Andy
really was affable. His words were spoken with the delivery
of a kind Southern gentleman who could probably say just
about anything and get away with it.

I eyed Tommy and gave him a sheepish giggle before dropping
my head. He was busy looking at his parents like he was
trying to figure out who they were.

"So how'd you enjoy the horses, Matthew?" Andy had a gleam
in his eye and he knew I was a city boy. I decided when in
the South, do as the Southerners do.

"Well, sir. Mine drove real good. I didn't wreck him a
single time."  That one almost brought the house down. These
were people that could laugh as heartily as they could eat.

"Oh, you are just so precious. Goodness gracious!" Betty was
red with laughter. I think she was starting to take a real
shine to me. My mind was always plotting and I decided that
I would make a play for some valuable intelligence
gathering, but not just yet.

The Johnsons were a very traditional style Southern family.
Betty worked in the home and Andy was evidently the sole
income provider, though I found out later that their huge
farm was passed down from Betty's side of the family. As the
men-folk moved into the living room, Betty lingered behind
clearing dishes.

After a few minutes, I stood and made my way back to the
kitchen. Tommy gave me a very curious `where are you going'
look that I beat back with my own eyes.

I grabbed a couple of dirty plates and walked in unison with
Betty toward the sink.

"Matthew, you get yourself back in the living room. Oh,
you're so nice. Some young lady is going to be very lucky to
latch onto you." She actually pinched my cheek when she said
it. I don't think my cheek had ever been pinched before and
it wouldn't offend me if it never happened again.

"Mrs. Johnson, there was something I wanted to ask you
about, if I may."

"Why sure sweetie, you go right ahead."

For dramatic effect, I looked back in the general direction
of the living room. It was around the corner from the
kitchen and we couldn't see or easily hear Tommy and his dad
there. I narrowed my eyes and lips and spoke softly to
Betty.

"Ma'am, can we keep this conversation in confidence just
between the two of us?"

Her ears and eyes perked up. "Well, son. I reckon we
probably can."

That was a little non-committal for my taste, but such was
the bargain in war.

"Well, Tommy and I were talking about the puppies and an old
story came up about Mr. Briggs." I eyed her cautiously.
"Ma'am, Chris Briggs and I are very close friends." I paused
again for serious dramatic effect. The concern in my eyes
was plenty real enough and Betty Johnson could see it
clearly.

"He's not a very nice man, Mrs. Johnson." That was both true
and common knowledge. I needed her to take my lead.

She did her own dramatic pause and dropped her voice very
low.

"Matthew, he is certainly NOT a very nice man, but I have
asked the good lord forgiveness for the things I said on
that day. It wasn't fair for me to drag up old rumors no
matter how much of a bully that man was being. I lost my
temper, something I rarely do. It especially wasn't fair to
that young lady and I regret ever having dragged her into
it. I saw Chris's mother just a few weeks ago and she looked
absolutely dreadful. That poor woman has been through so
much. I don't understand how she has stood it all."

There was a wealth of information there, though the code
would require some deciphering. It was time to get out
before I got caught.

"Mrs. Johnson, can I ask you one more thing?" I took her
hand this time and didn't wait for an answer. "Would you
please pray for them?"

She gave me the hug that I owed her. My request was genuine.
After the church-boner incident, I didn't assume any good
standing with God at the present. But a lady as sweet as
Mrs. Johnson was surely in much better graces and it might
just take a miracle before all was said and done.

It was pushing eight o'clock before Andy and Tommy dropped
me back off at my house. Andy had insisted that he drive me
home rather than bothering my parents, since I was an
invited guest to the Johnson house. He even got out and
shook hands with my dad when we arrived, thanking my dad and
mom for letting me come over.

Tommy and I stood just out of sight during the parental love-
fest and I gave him a tight hug and thanked him for
everything. I knew I had to walk a fine line with him and
his emotions, but I also needed to express how much his
friendship meant to me. I was ringing up a huge emotional
debt to Tommy that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to
fully pay back.

"That Andy is really a nice guy." My dad continued to be
impressed with Andy Johnson.

I was well impressed with the entire Johnson clan and told
them so before I left their house.

Back in the Jordan house, there were plenty of hugs and
smiles, and stories of horses and puppies. Again, the
distractions faded and a familiar concern returned.

We decided not to try calling Chris again tonight. It wasn't
too late. It just seemed too risky now. I was really
surprised he hadn't called and that now worried me most of
all.

Once alone in my room, I began to concentrate on what Betty
Johnson had said. Who was she referring to as the "young
lady" that she regretted "dragging" into this? Not Chris's
mom, I thought. She wouldn't have called her a `young' lady.
What had she meant "not taking care" of Chris? Her run-in
with Coach Briggs would have been at least 2 years before
whatever happened between Chris and Jay. `Rumor' was a word
that concerned me because it cast doubt on all of the other
clues. This was truly a riddle wrapped inside a mystery.

Tomorrow was a big day. I needed to put my eyes on Chris. He
needed to pass an algebra test. Then finally, basketball
tryouts would begin and with some luck, I'd make the team.

My first priority was settled early in the new day. I found
Chris and looked him over closely. He smiled in both
appreciation and reassurance. His hand found my shoulder and
his touch temporarily melted my fears.

"Are you OK? I tried to call you several times yesterday."
It was so good to see him.

"My dad ripped the phone jack right out of the wall. I think
he must have done it while I was on the phone with him at
your house Saturday morning." He recognized the building
concern in my eyes.

"But I'm OK, Matt. I gave him my story. He didn't believe
it, but I don't care. I'm OK."

I couldn't say for sure, but I thought I saw hesitation in
his face. I wondered if he was hiding something from me. He
had hidden his original injuries and I had to discover them
by accident. If he was hiding something, I'm sure it was to
protect me from having to share his pain.

"You'd tell me, wouldn't you?" I searched his face hard for
the answer that might not come out loud.

"I'm OK, Matt. Don't worry. I won't be coming over again for
a while though because I'm seriously grounded" shaking his
head in frustration. "You told your folks how much I
appreciated them?" He gave me a familiar squeeze on the
neck.

"Yeah, I told them. But they already knew." This day was
getting off to a really bad start and Chris hadn't given me
the answer that I needed. He was holding back on me.

"This is gonna be a big day. I hope I'm ready." He didn't
sound sure.

There was now more riding on his algebra test than before.
It was our key to spending time together for the near
future, and it was his key out of his house for a few nights
per week.

Just as he was about to release me, his eyes refocused on
some movement to my rear and locked in an icy stare that
sent shivers down my spine. I turned just in time to catch
the figure of Jay Henson moving between buildings. When I
turned back to Chris, his eyes were re-fixed on mine and out
of their momentary trance. He looked a little shaken, but it
might have only been a reaction to the discomfort on my own
face.

"Wish me luck." He gathered himself quickly and was ready to
take on the day.

"You don't need any luck. You're going to ace that test."
With my words, he smiled and moved away.

Rattled myself, I made my way to homeroom and the solace of
Tommy's company for a few minutes.

Later at lunch, Chris was nervous wondering if he had passed
the test. He had asked Mr. Davis the favor of an early grade
result and Mr. Davis had promised him an answer by the end
of the day.

I didn't see him again until after the final period ended
and I was making my way toward the gym. Along the way, I
crossed paths with Coach Briggs. If looks could kill, I
would have definitely died right there on the sidewalk. He
wasn't going to scare me off that easy, but he scared me all
the same.

Just a couple minutes later, I found Chris near the entrance
to the gym. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the
adjacent auditorium entrance and suddenly we were in a
nearly dark passageway.

I didn't get a chance to ask him if he passed. My lips were
too busy fighting to remain attached to my face as Chris had
virtually swallowed them in a startling burst of passion.

"Thank you, Matt." My head was spinning and I wasn't sure
what to claim credit for.

"OK. But for what?" Still spinning.

"I made a 72 on the test. I could have never squeaked by
without you."

He really had cut it close. Seventy was the minimum passing
score. Without Tommy's help, he would have definitely
failed.

"Chris, you know Tommy deserves all the credit. But don't
kiss him, please." Tommy had saved the day, again. I wished
I could kiss him, but that would be a bad idea for lots of
reasons.

"Yeah, but it was you who put it all together. You really
pulled me out of the fire on this one. I can't tell you how
relieved I am. Matt, I was really scared of not getting to
play ball. We're gonna have a lot of fun together. It might
be the only time we have until my dad eases up."

Sweetness and bitterness were all mixed together, but it was
mostly good for now. I still had to keep my end of the
bargain and make the team. The pressure had now shifted to
me.

As it turns out, sixteen boys showed up trying out for
twelve spots on the team. I had to beat out four other boys.
Eight of the new boys were freshmen like me, so at least I
had a fighting chance.

It was almost certain that all of the sophomore boys would
make the team. Jeff Billups and Mike Rogers went out of
their way to shake my hand when I arrived and I needed the
extra confidence it provided me.

Coach Hill was in his early forties and new to this area.
This would be all of the boy's first experience with him. He
had supposedly been a very successful coach at his previous
school in Indiana and had relocated here so his wife could
be closer to her family. My first impression was that he was
a very organized man. The tryouts didn't lack for structure
and very little time was wasted for anyone.

He let us know up front that he would play no favorites and
he didn't care who our "mommies and daddies" were. I don't
think this was directed at Chris because there were several
boys on the team whose dads were on the athletic boosters
club and such. Middle-aged fathers could be very pushy when
their vicarious athletic dreams ran into a strong-willed
coach like Mr. Hill. I felt bad for some of those boys and
the burdens they must carry from their fathers' hopes and
expectations.

Chris was doing his best to support me. He made sure we were
paired up in any drills and he never let me out of his
sight. It was obvious to everyone that he was the real
talent on this team and you could tell that even Coach Hill
had an immediate appreciation for his skills. I imagined
that a good coach had to sum up his players quickly, in
terms of talent, attitude, and leadership.

For the remainder of the week, we ran though a variety of
drills and skill tests. Chris's early assessment of me was
right on the money. I more than held my own at anything that
involved defense. On the offensive drills, I had a lot of
room for improvement.

The rest of the week at school seemed to go by very slow. I
found myself distracted often by thoughts of Chris and the
short time with him at lunch each day was just enough to get
me by until practice in the afternoon.

He had given Tommy an enthusiastic high-five and thanked him
profusely for his tutoring success.

Next week was Thanksgiving, falling unusually late in
November this year. We would find out Monday who made the
team. Another long and lonely weekend loomed ahead in
between.

Through the week, I had given my mom and dad the updates on
Chris, but I didn't let them know that I feared he wasn't
telling me everything. He was protecting me from that burden
and I was trying to protect them the same way.

 Though tortuously slow in arriving, Monday finally came.
Coach Hill was talking with each boy on the team
individually throughout the day as everyone's schedule
permitted. He had sent word for me to drop by and see him
when I could. I trekked up to the gym just before lunch,
fearing the worst, but still trying to hope for the best.

His very small office was located in a chilly corner of the
old gym. His small desk was decorated with three sets of
pictures, presumably his wife and two young sons.

I was nervous and hadn't fully prepared myself for
rejection. The consequences were just more than I could bear
the thought of.

"Matthew, I know you told me you've never played organized
basketball before. You do show very good footwork. You must
have played some sports."

"Yes sir. We played a lot of soccer in California, though
there weren't that many flat places to play where I lived."

"I have to be honest with you." Here it comes. "Your ball-
handling skills leave a lot to be desired. I don't think you
would get much playing time unless you showed some dramatic
improvement in that area." I hoped he couldn't see my knees
shaking.

"But, I'm a coach who believes in defense and if nothing
else, I think you would make our practices better. That's an
important part of being on a real `team' too, making your
teammates work hard and improve. If you can accept a
position as a role-player, knowing that you won't be getting
much game time, then I'd like to have you on the team. If
you can't accept that, I'd rather know now so I can give
that position to someone else."

Oh Shit! I'm in!

"Coach, I was born to be a role player. I've been training
for it my whole life. Do I still get a uniform?" This was
pure enthusiasm speaking.

He looked at me and laughed. "Yes, Matthew. You still get a
uniform. Welcome to the team." With that, Coach Hill reached
out and shook my hand.

I sprinted from his office before he could change his mind
and didn't slow up until I made a rather clumsy entrance
into the cafeteria. So much for that good footwork I was
getting credit for.

"I'm in! I'm in!"

Chris didn't look surprised at all, but he did look very
proud. He threw an arm around me and almost lifted me off
the floor. Tommy laughed and smiled, never seeming jealous.

I found out that our first game was next week. I was a
little disappointed that it was a home game, but at least it
would be a break out of the house for Chris.

The days were finding a certain rhythm. There were ups and
downs but no new dramas formed for a while. This was a
welcome respite since there were plenty of old dramas still
cooking in the background. It helped to be near Chris so
much, but it was a far cry from the intimate time I wanted
alone with him.

Thanksgiving came and went and December was now here. Tommy
and I never had our last camping trip before it got too
cold, but he had been to my house on a couple of occasions
now and I continued to ride horses with him when weather and
time permitted. My parents adored him and my mom had found
one more boy to adopt into our family, though Tommy didn't
need a new family.

We won our first basketball game. Predictably, Chris was the
star. Coach Hill was proving his own talent from the
sidelines, but it was clearly Chris's team on the floor.
When he needed to, he took the lead role, but he was also
conscious of getting everyone else involved. I never got up
off the bench, but it was still the best seat in the house
and I was thrilled to have it.

I noticed Coach Briggs peak in briefly from the entrance to
the gym, but he never actually came in to watch Chris play.

My mom insisted on coming to the game and she quietly
enjoyed watching her `other' boy do so well. I managed to
share a smile with her as I looked up at her in the stands.
I had plenty of time to smile.

Our first road game was two days later and I was excited. We
were traveling across the county to visit the defending
conference champions. They had beaten our team pretty bad
last year both times. Later this season, they would be
traveling to our school to complete the season series.

The bus trip was a hoot. Chris and I sat together and we
were never out of each other's company before or after a
game.

This was so much different than being at school. It took two
busses for the cheerleaders, girls' and boys' team, plus the
team managers and coaching staffs.

For me, the best part of the night was just sitting with
Chris and the guys waiting for our game to start. The girls'
team always played first, so we had two hours to kill before
our game. Some of our guys were pretty funny and we all
bonded into a real team quickly. It was sort of like a big
family of just kids.

I guess being conference champs commanded a lot of
attention. The gym was packed and it was hard not to be
intimidated. There were so many new faces and it was really
weird stepping onto someone else's turf like this.

Chris was showing signs of restlessness and when he nodded
for me to follow; we got up and walked toward the locker
rooms. There was a back exit and we walked outside for some
fresh air. Chris kept walking around the corner of the gym
and for the first time in two weeks, we were completely
alone. It was dark out except for the soft reflections of a
night-light high up on a poll near the corner of the school
property.

He looked a little edgy and I asked if he was OK. His
response was to put his hand on my waist and pull me into
him for a long, hard kiss. His hand pulled me further into
him grinding our waists together. He was definitely hard and
I now understand his edginess. I put my own hands on the
sides of his waist and pushed into him. There was a mutual
look of sexual angst in our eyes confirming the feelings
that had started in my basement.

I knew that I was developing stronger urges for Chris. He
had a sexual energy and charisma that matched his
personality. I wanted more from him and he wanted more from
me. It had occurred to me that his needs were even greater
than mine, as he was a year older and had already attempted
sexual explorations with Katie. For my part, I just wanted
to please him and do anything that would bring him comfort
or pleasure.

"Why don't you two just go ahead and fuck!"

In our carelessness, we hadn't heard them approach. Three
boys from the other team had seen us sneak out the back
exit. When they rounded the corner, they got quite an eyeful
and there was no use pretending this wasn't happening.

Chris slowly separated himself from me and a look that I had
never seen before took control of his face. It was some
mixture of confidence, determination and anger. Calmly, he
walked a few steps to meet them and I quickly joined his
side.

Before any more words were spoken, more boys rounded the
corner but at least these were friendly faces that I
recognized. Jeff and Mike had been paying enough attention
to realize something was up and their arrival was just in
time.

"Everything all right, Chris?" Jeff asked.

The lead boy on the other side burst out "We found these two
love-birds back here making out. You bunch of faggots might
do that at your school, but don't bring that fucked-up shit
around here!"

Jeff cut Chris a hard glance, but he found no apology or
denial in Chris's eyes, only a firm look of resolve that
communicated `you better stand with me on this one'.

While this was happening, three more boys from the other
team gathered and we were on the verge of a full-scale war.

"Fuck all of you. If you want a fight, let's get at it."
Jeff had chosen his side and he was now just inches from the
nose of our main instigator.

I wondered if Chris would lose it and hurt someone. I didn't
want to see that side of him revealed. What I saw instead
surprised me and contradicted everything I feared.

"It's OK, guys." Chris stepped in between Jeff and the other
boy. "We'll take this fight to the court. We got beat pretty
bad here last year, but it's about to be payback time. You
remember how I abused you last game?" The look on the other
boy's face conceded that he did in fact remember. "You're
gonna wish it was only that bad before this night is over."

Chris was cool and calm with the cold steely determination
and confidence of a great leader going into battle. The
other boys stepped aside as we walked right through the
middle of their pack and back into the gym with Chris in our
lead.

We really had been careless. I didn't want to hide my
affection or outright love for him, but we had to, at least
for now and maybe forever as far as I knew. It wasn't right
and it wasn't fair but it was our reality.

"Don't let them shake you up. I lit Billy Jacobs up for
twenty-four points here last year, but they still beat us by
twelve. I'm gonna rub his nose in it tonight." Chris was
fully focused and ready for action.

On the opening tip, he started delivering on his promise.
After a dizzying display of ball handling, he backed Billy
Jacobs down under the basket and left him grabbing at
nothing but thin air as Chris scored our first two points.

I could see the level of intensity rise in my teammates and
Mike Rogers made a steal near half-court before feeding
Chris for a fast-break and another lay-up. It went back and
forth like this all night. We would go up by four points,
and then fall behind by three. It was a constant seesaw
effect.

Chris really was abusing Billy Jacobs. No doubt, they had
the better team and were much deeper in talent than we were.
But we had one highly motivated and highly talented Chris
and that was enough to keep us in it.

We also had serious foul trouble and when Jeff fouled out
only five minutes after Mike had, we were moving deeper and
deeper into a weak group of reserves.

With one minute left to play, we were down by four points.
Chris had put up a heroic effort, but we just didn't have
enough firepower. Just when we thought all was lost, that's
when he reached back and found something I'm not even sure
he knew he had.

I admired all of the great athletes of my time. Michael
Jordan was the greatest, but Larry Bird and Magic Johnson
were close enough. At the exact point that the pressure of
competition brought confusion, chaos, and failure to others,
they all found some place of calm within them that made them
even better than before.

In spite of the hell that was his home-life and in spite of
the pressures of being in a truly hostile environment, and
even in spite of the burdens that might lie ahead for the
two of us, he reached deep within himself and found his own
calm place. It was a magical transformation.

When Billy Jacobs took the inbounds pass, Chris swarmed in
and put his nose right in his face. He was so close, I was
sure that Billy could feel the heat from his body, yet Chris
didn't foul him. Obviously shaken, Billy tried to feed the
ball off to a teammate, but Chris had seen that coming well
before it actually happened. A steal and a lay-up added to
the retribution being paid to Billy and brought us within
two points.

He tried to wave off the next inbounds pass, but my
teammates were playing inspired basketball and as soon as he
caught it, you could see the panic in his eyes because Chris
was all over him again. The panic led to frustration and
when Billy gave Chris an elbow and the referee gave Billy a
foul, we had a chance to tie the game with only sixteen
seconds left.

Chris coolly canned both free throws, pausing to give Billy
a taunting look between shots.

The good news was we were tied. The bad news was they had
the ball. When their coach called a timeout, we all gathered
on the sidelines for one last breather and words of
encouragement from Coach Hill. Kevin Myers was holding his
calf muscle as he came to our bench, grimacing with an
obvious cramp.

Kevin was only playing because Jeff, Mike and another
starter had fouled out. We were way deep into our bench but
I didn't realize just how deep until I heard someone call my
name.

"What?" It still didn't dawn on me that he wanted me to
enter the game.

"Matthew. You see that skinny blond kid over there?" Coach
was pointing across the floor and I nodded a nervous yes to
him. "You keep him from getting the ball. Just stay between
him and the ball. You can do this. And if the ball winds up
in your hands, you get rid of it quick. Understood?" Another
nod, even more nervous than the first.

Coach Hill had one last encouragement, but he wouldn't have
the last word.

"Boys, just stay calm and play hard. That's all I can ask
you to do." Coach's comments were calming but not inspiring
enough for Chris.

Chris spoke up. "We ARE NOT going to lose this game.
Everybody understand that?"

Eleven young heads nodded in unison.

As our huddle broke, a familiar and comforting pair of eyes
found me. Chris eased over to me and rustled my hair a bit
with his right hand. "Footwork, Matt. You CAN do this."

The opposing coach had been wise enough to work out a play
that kept the ball away from Billy and therefore further
away from Chris. As they crossed half court, the clock was
winding down to nine seconds. All we had to do was hold them
and then we had a chance in overtime, but the fickle winds
of fate had other plans.

My feet were moving as fast as they ever had and I was
determined not to let my kid ruin the day for us. The
hostile crowd was counting down the clock. "Eight, seven,
six..."

The count was interrupted at six because as my kid tried to
break around me, a pass glanced off the back of my
outstretched hand and deflected almost straight up into the
air on the home side out-of-bounds line. It was a free ball
and every athletic instinct in my body told me to go get it.

As I made my second step the ball bounced head-high in the
air and I knew I couldn't catch it and stay inbounds, my
momentum was too strong. I planted my left foot barely
inside the out-of-bounds line and leaped as high as I could.
Stretched in the air, I reached out and cupped the ball in
my right hand before twisting my weight around and sling-
shotting a wild pass back towards our end of the court. As
the ball left my hand, I crashed into the stands and wound
up flat on my back underneath several unfamiliar legs, my
own legs draped over a row of seats. I hit the stands hard
enough that it disoriented me and I thought I had gone deaf.
In reality, it was the crowd that had gone stone silent.

The next face I saw brought joy to my heart. It was Chris
and he was wearing a smile that only fits a winner. He
grabbed my arms and lifted me up from the displeased crowd.
Before I knew it, he had his arms around me and was
practically carrying me around the court.

Billy Jacobs looked on in complete stunned disbelief. The
earlier images of Chris and me grinding away behind the gym
were probably less nauseating to him now than the new images
of us victoriously dancing around his court. Our teammates
were slapping high-fives and it was just one big moving pile
of smiling boys.

For a lonely boy like me who had just moved here a few
months ago to now be surrounded with delirious teammates AND
to be in the arms of the boy I loved, well, it was simply
the happiest moment of my life.

That it brought an asshole like Billy Jacobs such
humiliation was just icing on the cake.

I never saw the play, but we talked about it all the way
back home on the bus and for several days more after.

Great athletes always anticipate and always manage to stay a
step ahead. Chris had made a break for our basket as soon as
he saw me going after the loose ball. I never saw him and my
desperate pass was even more desperate than it looked. When
he caught my wild toss in mid-air and made the final lay-in
before the buzzer sounded, it was truly a miracle.

I hoped it wouldn't be the last miracle to find us.


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Author's Note / December 24, 2002:

This latest installment is a little lighter emotionally than
the last few. Quite honestly, your humble author was more
than a little drained and needed to lighten up a bit for his
own sake. The remaining two or three installments will
conclude the current storyline.

Again, I want to stop and say a heart-felt thank you to
every single one of you who have responded to this story. I
can never adequately express the amount of appreciation I
have for you all. Through your encouragement and
reassurances, this story has truly become `ours'. I no
longer feel that it's honest to simply call it my own. I
haven't accepted any plot suggestions, but there is no doubt
that the motivation supplied by your response has elevated
this story above the limits of my natural writing abilities.

I can also no longer honestly say that this story represents
the only true documented expression of how I really feel
about myself and the world around me. My inbox is a constant
source of education for me and my replies to you have
allowed me to realize things about myself that had
previously escaped my observation. Again, please accept a
sincere thank you!

I still truly enjoy corresponding with you and hope that you
continue to communicate your response to me. I do promptly
reply to all emails and welcome the chance to make new
friends.

Please keep the responses coming, positive or otherwise:
ehman_penn@yahoo.com

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