Date: Thu, 17 Mar 2005 21:13:33 -0500
From: Sequoyah <sequoyah@charter.net>
Subject: Moon Watching 4

MOON WATCHING

Chapter Four

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Chapter Four

Dad knocked on my door at 7:00 and reminded me breakfast was at 7:30. I
tossed on my robe and went to the bathroom where I quickly showered and
shaved--I had to start shaving when I was fourteen; and now that I was on
my way to sixteen, I had to shave everyday unless I wanted to grow a beard,
which I had given some thought. When I finished, I got dressed in record
time and headed downstairs.

The doorbell rang as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "I've got it," I
called since I was right at the front door. Opening the door, I stood
facing a BIG police officer. I don't mean big fat, I mean big as in
muscles. You don't see a build like that very often. Rarely would be more
like it. He was blond, blue eyed, tanned with a high and tight haircut and
a uniform which had to be tailored, maybe even while he was in it! I bet
most of the girls in his high school class pitched a fit when they learned
he was not interested.

"Mr. McCarter?" he asked in his soft Georgia voice.

"Tom McCarter, Officer."

"Joe Turner, Tom."

I reached out to shake his hand and said, "Come on in. Breakfast is
waiting."

Joe stepped inside and as he did he said, "Tom, you've got balls, Man,
thank goodness."

"Joe, good to see you again," Mom said as we walked into the breakfast
nook. "You need to stop by occasionally. How's Trey?"

"Yeah, I think about dropping in when I come by, but it's usually when you
folks are gone. Trey's doing great. Just got a promotion. He's now a
regional supervisor for track maintenance of the Southern, assigned to
tracks from Atlanta to Macon. Of course, he's still right out there working
with his crew so he's staying in shape. Kidded him about going soft when he
started supervising. He could probably have a desk job by now, but has an
agreement with the vice president in charge of track maintenance. Trey
would quit in a heartbeat of they tried to move him inside."

"And Queen Joyce?"

Joe started laughing and could hardly get stopped so he could speak. "Sorry
about that, but Queen Joyce is an officer in Alpha Kappa Alpha--the black
women's sorority. They recently had a big do in the ballroom of the Nikko
Hotel. Queen Joyce gave me orders to get dressed in a formal uniform--as
though I had one--and told Trey "You rent a nice conservative tux.' Of
course, Trey had no trouble renting a formal outfit, there are formal
rental places in every mall. It took awhile and a lot of shopping before I
found something which might pass as a formal College Park police
uniform. Queen had said, "You two get yourselves as beautiful as you can
and be ready. I'll pick you up.' She arrived--on time for a change--in a
limo--all dolled up in eye-twisting shades of the sorority's colors, pink
and green. Queen was dressed in yards and yards of hot pink and dayglo lime
green."

"When we got downtown turns out this party was for members and their
children. One of the ladies guarding the door reminded Queen Joyce that,
'only children of members are invited, not friends."

Already Mom and Dad were having a hard time controlling their laugher.

"The doorkeeper asked, pointedly, 'These young men are just friends, aren't
they?' Queen Joyce drew herself up to her full height said, 'Hell no! They
my boys.' The other lady asked, 'Adopted?' Queen fastened her eye on the
woman and said, 'Certain not! They be mine. Twins. A hard delivery. Like to
have lost the black one, but he growed up right well. White one growed up
well too, just a little light in the skin for me, but you love'em the way
they come.' Queen then licked a finger, reached up and started smoothing my
hair with her wet finger as though I had hair long enough to get out of
place and as she did said, 'Son, never can get that hair to behave.' Now
when Trey wants to get my goat, he licks a finger and does the hair bit."

"Needless to say, Trey and I were standing there about to bust trying to
keep from laughing, wondering what Queen Joyce would do next. As we walked
into the ballroom, she did that language switch thing she does--from street
to drawing room--and said, 'I'll never understand why some
African-Americans think they are a cut above regular folk when they get a
little bit of power. Doorkeeper at a black sorority's do. Now that is a job
which is going to save the world.' Yeah, Queen's in fine form. She'll be
moving in with us soon."

"To live?" Mom asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Trey and I are closing on that big yellow brick house on the
corner of Rugby and College next week. We wanted Queen to move in with us,
but she refused. "Don't want you in my business and I sure don't want to
mess in yours,' she said and really put her foot down. Trey couldn't budge
her until we took a good look at the house and discovered how easy it would
be to have a mother-in-law suite. The contractor will do that before
anything else and promises it will be finished within four weeks. That way,
as Queen says, 'You won't be in my business and I won't be in yours, so
long as you behave.' Queen will have thirty-five years in this year and may
retire. She's diabetic, you know, and only recently has it under control so
we want her where we can look after her."

"I'm not sure Fulton county schools can survive without the Queen," Dad
said.

"I know two former Fulton county students who would agree."

I supposed I should eat, but wasn't very hungry because my stomach kept
getting tied in knots. Nerves. When we finished, Mom told us to go to the
living room and she'd bring coffee. When we were seated, Joe turned to me
and said, "Tom, your dad told me briefly what had happened last night on
the phone, but how about you giving me the whole story."

I sighed and started from the beginning--from the fact that Shawn got me
all hot and bothered the first time I saw him--to my talking with Mom and
Dad last night. Joe asked a question now and then, but mostly just let me
talk.

When I finished he asked, "You wiped Shawn's semen from your face with a
pair of shorts?" I nodded. "I hope you still have them, unwashed."

"I do, only because there was so much going on when I got home."

"We'll need them," Joe said.

I got the shorts and just seeing them made me sick.

When I got back downstairs, Joe said, "You know I have diddly-squat
authority in regards to what happens in Gray county, but since you just
want to make sure Shawn and Harold don't seduce another young fellow in
camp and keep their mouths shut, I think I can bluff them by APPEARING to
have some authority. I suspect Sarge will keep his mouth shut because he
could be in deep doo-doo with the state if this ended up in court. After a
scandal a few years ago at a Caroll country camp for troubled youth some
pretty strict laws governing camps were passed."

"It has very little to do with the present situation, Tom, but I hope
you'll drop by the station or house if you want to talk. Being gay in high
school is not easy." I remembered his story and nodded. It sure was easier
for me than it had been for him, but I still had three years to go. "And,
it occurs to me, we'll soon be neighbors when we get moved into the Rugby
house. It's only across the park and four, five blocks up the street.

The phone rang and when Mom answered, she called from the kitchen, "The
camp crowd is at the station."

Joe said, "I'll run over and lead them here. When they arrive, we'll play
it by ear," Joe said. "Tom, just relax. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later Dad said, "I see a car pulling up behind the cruiser so
I suspect Sarge and the boys have arrived."

When the three got inside, introductions made and everyone seated, Sarge
said, "Mr. McCarter, I have talked with my two counselors about the
accusations Tom made against them and they realize how serious the charges
are. They are very aware of the damage such accusations could do to their
lives. I, of course, am aware of the damage such accusations can do to my
camp. I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding and we can get the matter
cleared up quickly. I am concerned that you have the police here,
though. Even if something illegal did happen at camp, it is in Gray
county."

"You misunderstand, sir," Joe said. "I am here on behalf of the Georgia gay
law officers. Since I am stationed here, it saved a middle Georgia gay
officer from having to drive up."

"The Georgia Gay Law Officers? Association, League, what?" I thought. When
I looked at Joe he winked and I thought, "Joe has just invented an
organization, but actually, he only said the Georgia gay law officers. He
certainly didn't say anything about an official organization. Suggest it,
maybe--suggest it, yes, say it--no"

"Oh" Sarge said, and continued, "Mr. McCarter, I can understand your being
upset when your son told you a story about camp, a story about events which
I have difficulty believing occurred and which my two counselors have
denied. I don't know why your son might have made up such a story, a story
which could damage these two young men for the rest of their lives, not to
mention the damage it could do to the camp." I think Sarge was talking
fast, hoping he could create a large smoke screen for him and his
counselors to hide behind.

"Sarge, I think before we give the two accused an opportunity to tell their
side of the story it would be helpful for them to understand just HOW
damaged the rest of their lives could be. You are right. What they have
done could, indeed, ruin the rest of their lives. I am sure you are well
aware of what the two are facing if their guilt is established."

"Fellows," Joe turned to the two and said, "Given Tom's age and your age,
the one of you who had sex with Tom committed statutory rape. See, given
Tom's age, he cannot have consensual sex with either of you. In fact, here
in Georgia, there is no such thing as consensual male with male
sex. Statutory rape is good for ten to twenty years in prison unless I am
mistaken. That's for starters."

"Georgia also has a sodomy law for which you can be sent to prison for up
to ten years for engaging in oral or anal sex--Georgia law calls both
sodomy. You may think Georgia has no right in your bedroom, and I agree,
but it's the law's here and was upheld by the US Supreme Court a few years
ago. Besides, you two weren't exactly in your bedroom. For the moment, even
leaving Tom out of the equation, you've got ten years each on that
score. But that's not all is it? Didn't one of you claim to have had anal
sex with Tom? Shawn, I believe. Sodomy--that's ten years for Harold and
twenty for Shawn. And we're just getting started."

Joe turned to Sarge and said,"Sarge, here's a tie-in with the camp you
might think about. As your employees--counselors--Shawn and Harold were in
positions of authority over minors--campers--including Tom. As their
supervising employer, you can be held responsible for their actions."

Turning back to the two counselors, Joe continued, "The state is concerned
about those in authority using that authority to secure sexual favors. I
think the initial concern was for prison guards and law officials, but the
law has wider application. We have a former Fulton county teacher serving
twenty-eight years for becoming sexually involved with students under that
very law." Joe turned to Sarge again and said, "I'm not sure exactly what
the penalty for the camp might be, Sarge," then turned to the two young men
and said, "The counselor at the falls---Shawn I believe--could get twenty
to forty years of jail time added to what he has already racked up."

I thought I saw Harold give Shawn a smug look which quickly faded as Joe
continued. "Well, actually, neither of you get off. It is my understanding
that the two of you actually entered into a wager, a bet. That,too, is, of
course, a violation of another Georgia law with a small penalty so we can
ignore it for our purposes. HOWEVER, the wager was that one of you would
seduce Tom and become involved with him sexually. Since the two of you
agreed on the wager, you were, in fact, conspiring to commit a
felony. Actually two felonies. One to have sex with Tom and one to pay off
the bet with sodomy. Conspiracy carries a very heavy penalty and may even
have you ending up in federal as well as state court. Conservatively I
estimate you two face somewhere between fifty and a hundred years in
prison."

I had been watching Sarge as well as the two counselors as Joe reeled off
the charges and he was shaking his head, looking at Harold and Shawn from
time to time. It was clear to me that if he could be convinced of what had
happened, Shawn and Harold were in deep doo-doo.

"Well, Mr. Turner, what you say is probably true, I don't know about that,
but as I see it, at best this is a serious case of he says, they say. There
are two young men denying everything and only one boy accusing them, a boy
who, I assume, admits he's gay and two straight counselors who have never
had a blemish on their record the three years they have been counselors in
my camp," Sarge said with more conviction that I thought his face
indicated.

"Then I guess there's no way out except court," Joe said. "I suspect just
the accusations in court would do damage to the camp, but it's a bit more
than just he say, they say," Joe said as he reached down beside his chair
and tossed my cum-stiff shorts on the coffee table. "I'm sure all three of
you know about DNA evidence and those shorts, which Mrs. McCarter can
certainly identify as Tom's in addition to the fact they have his name
inside--following camp regulations. The spots are dried semen, Shawn's
semen and that can be identified beyond a shadow of a doubt. I guess court
it is. That means your camp goes down the tubes and these two fellows
become guests of the state of Georgia for the rest of their lives or until
they are very, very old men."

Shawn and Harold had been very smug since they walked in the door. They had
sat quietly, looking at their nails, generally looking bored and
uninterested, but that suddenly changed.

"Wait a fucking minute!" Harold shouted, jumping up so quickly his chair
shot out behind him. He had absolutely no color, was trembling and shaking
and looked as if he would collapse any minute. "It was just a bet. Shawn
said Tom set off his gaydar and and he would like to get him in bed. I
said, 'Yeah, wouldn't we all.' Shawn said, "Bet you a good fuck I'll have
him before this session of camp is over.' That's it. When he came back from
rowing up the river, he said 'I had him.'"

"Harold, shut your big mouth," Shawn said, but the damage had been done.

"I think he has said too much already," Sarge said. "Shawn, speak up. What
part of what Tom reported is not true."

"All of it. Every bit of it."

"Including what Harold has just admitted?" Sarge asked.

"Well, Harold and I did play around a little, but that's it."

"And when those shorts are tested, they'll not find your DNA?"

"Well, they might. I mean I did go swimming with Tom, but that's all."

"Explain how your cum got on his shorts swimming, Shawn. I'd like to hear
that," Harold said. "Why do you keep lying? You even lied about having sex
with Tom, about fucking him, you know that. Sarge, I'll testify against
that liar if I can escape jail."

"Nobody's going to jail," Shawn said. "Just shut up."

Joe sat, looking at Shawn--that would have been enough to scare me into
confessing anything--and Sarge and Harold had him pegged as well.

Joe finally spoke,"Harold, you are a wise man. Shawn is not only a jerk,
but also stupid. You know that shiner Shawn has came from Tom's fist and
you know why. Mrs. McCarter, give Harold a pen and paper, if you
would. Harold, write out all you know about what happened and your
involvement. Sign and date that, then at the bottom, state you'll not be in
a position of authority over minors and specifically you will not serve as
a camp counselor, for five years and that you will testify against Shawn in
court should that be necessary. All with the understanding that you will
not be charged with the crimes associated with this incident so long as you
do not reveal anything about this agreement or the incident. Sign and date
that."

Mom handed Harold a pad and pen and he went to the dining table and started
writing.

"Sarge, I want a statement from you that the two will not serve in any camp
for the next five years. I think you can handle that through your
professional organization." Sarge nodded and Mom handed him a pad and pen
and he joined Harold.

"You know something, Shawn, with that pair of shorts and Harold's
statement, I could lock you up right now and then call the Gray county
authorities to come and get you. So far as I am concerned, gay or straight
is never a problem or issue until some jerk makes it one. You took from a
kid a precious thing. You took from him the wonderful experience of losing
his virginity in an act of beautiful, loving sex. His parents might have,
but I wouldn't have objected to what you did--illegal as it was--if you had
meant what you said and given him a beautiful first experience, but you
didn't. You took what could have been a wonderful memory and turned it into
a nightmare. I'm going to take great delight in seeing your ass in jail
where, by the way, it will likely be welcomed by some of the other
residents."

"Give me a fucking pad and pen," Shawn said, standing up.

"Will a regular one do?" Mom asked in her "I'm just a dumb southern girl"
voice. Shawn grabbed the pen and paper, sat down at the table and started
writing.

Fifteen minutes later the three were ready to leave for what I was sure
would not be a pleasant ride back to middle Georgia. As they walked out the
front door, I heard Sarge say, "You two better find someone to come and get
you because I'll give you fifteen minutes to get packed and off the
property when we get back."

"Impressive, Joe," Dad said.

It was almost lunch when the camp crowd left and Dad asked Joe if he was
free to go to lunch.

"Sure, I'm off-duty today," chuckled.

"If you pulled off what you did off-duty, you must really be something when
you are on duty," I laughed, feeling like I had just gotten out from under
a cloud.

"Have you been to the new place on Main Street?" Dad asked. "I have heard
it is exceptional."

"That's what I have heard as well, but I haven't been," Joe said.

"Then we need to check it out," Dad said.

"Before I leave, I need to return the cruiser" Joe said. "Tom, like to ride
along?" I nodded. "Pick us up at the station if you would," the officer
said.

"See you there," Dad responded.

When we got into the cruiser, Joe said, "So, how do you feel about being
gay, Tom."

"Guess I haven't given it a lot of thought--about how I feel about it I
mean. Mom and Dad were easy with it. Well, I think they were concerned
about the problems just being gay can cause for me, but otherwise, they are
supportive."

"Yeah, I sure saw that today. Lot different from my experience."

"Dad told me about that. I don't know if I could cope without Mom and
Dad. Well, I could, but it wouldn't be easy. I did have a rough time when
my best friend found out. I was in love with him and he is straight. But we
decided our friendship was worth saving and we're ok now."

"Setting aside what happened afterwards, you did like playing around with
Shawn?"

I could feel my face turn red and said, "Yeah."

"I sure hope so! Sex is great! It'll be better than you can hope or dream
when you are with someone you love. I think it might get better the longer
you are with a lover. It has for me and Trey. Well, here we are and there's
your Mom and Dad. Tom, I meant what I said about your giving me a call if
you need to talk. Trey would say the same. I certainly hope you'll come by
when we get moved in. Maybe Trey and I can help make being gay not just not
bad, but even good. You're gay and I'd like to know you see that for the
beautiful thing it is just as I hope straights see being straight as a
beautiful thing and that gay and straight both see their sexuality as
gift. End of lecture," Joe said.

I smiled and said, "Thanks, Joe. Thanks a million."

Dad picked us up and went to the new restaurant, Bistro on Main Street. In
spite of the temperature--it was a typical summer day in College Park--we
decided to eat outside. Shortly after we were seated a really good looking
guy a few years older than I came to take our drink orders and as he walked
away, Joe leaned over and whispered, "How do you like the view on Main
Street?"

I could feel my face burning and knew it was bright red, I finally was able
to whisper back, "Like most everything in College Park, a bit old, but
obviously well-built. Definitely worth a second look."

Joe laughed and said, "I like you, Kid." I didn't say it, but the feeling
was mutual.

After lunch, I tried to call LaTasha, but as Keith had said, I got a
message that the number was disconnected. I told Mom I was going to see if
I could find out what was up, got on my bike and rode the two miles to
LaTasha's apartment. I sure hoped someone was home because I could use a
tall glass of water to replace what I had lost riding a bike mid-afternoon
in a Georgia summer.

I saw someone at the front window of her apartment as I rode up, but when I
rang the bell, no one came to the door. I rang the bell again and heard
movement inside, but still no one came to the door. I rang again, then
thinking the bell might not be working--not working? I heard it when I
pushed the button--I knocked on the door and then again, louder. Still no
one came. I finally gave up and left.

About half way home I decided I'd whip by the Andersons to see if anyone
was home and would shed some light on the situation.

I rang the bell and a few minutes later saw Mrs. Anderson coming to the
door. She peeked out through the sheer curtains covering the glass side
panels before opening the door. She said "Good to see you, Tom," but didn't
ask me in and stood in the door, making it clear I was not wanted inside.

"Mrs. Anderson, I wanted to find out about Keith. I expected him to be back
this weekend. He's still in Detroit?"

"Yes, he is Tom and is probably going to start school there...."

"Could I get his address? His phone number? I'd like to talk with him."

"He can't be reached by phone and if you want to write him, bring me the
letter and I'll mail it."

"Is there something wrong, Mrs. Anderson?" I asked, not being able to think
of anything else to say. Obviously there was.

"Keith has some personal problems he has to work through and he is in a
place where he is free to do that," she said. "We hope he can come back
after Christmas. Good to see you, Tom," she said and closed the door.

As I pedaled my way home, my mind was racing. I couldn't imagine what kind
of problem Keith had that required his being away from College Park all
summer and fall. When I told Mom and Dad, neither of them had any idea
either.

We had just put the last load into the car and the pickup when I remembered
I had promised to call Keith at 8:00. I glanced at my watch and saw it was
7:56. I ran into the house and upstairs to my room where I got the number I
had written down last night. I don't have a phone in my room and didn't
want to go into Mom and Dad's room, so I went downstairs, picked up the
kitchen phone and dialed.

The phone was picked up on the first ring and I said, "Keith? Tom."

"Thank God you called Tom. You were my last hope."

"What'sup, Keith?"

"Tom, I'll try to make this quick since I may have to run--literally--any
minute. I am hidden here in Detroit, but I don't know how much longer I can
stand it or will be hidden. I am in constant danger and don't know how I
can escape. Have you seen LaTasha?"

I told Keith about trying to see her and the outcome. I also told him how
his mother acted. "Keith, what's going on?"

"Tom, when we got back from that camp in north Georgia, I spent that week
in College Park, then went to Albany for my usual summer stay with my
grandmother. While I was there, LaTasha's brothers were trying to join a
gang...."

"In College Park? Keith be serious."

"Not in College Park, East Point."

"Same difference, Keith. College Park or East Point, we are still talking
small town Georgia."

"No, metro Atlanta, Tom. I know folk from College Park and East Point like
to pretend they are out of the big bad city, but face it, those two towns
are really part of Atlanta. But never mind."

"East Point has a lot of Latinos moving into the low cost housing there. As
soon as a unit becomes vacant, another family moves in. Well, some of those
families come complete with gang members right out of LA. Seeing that, the
blacks in the projects and section eight apartments feel they are being run
out of their own space. They had some local 'gangs', but they wanted 'the
real thing with fire power,' I was told."

"You know how some kids are on a treadmill from Atlanta to Detroit to
Chicago to...well, you know the drill. They live with one 'auntie' until
she can't take them any more and ships them on to the next. I heard your
dad say his school has a thirty percent turn over each semester because of
such. That means College Park and East Point have teens who know about
gangs all over the country. Some of those "living with auntie" kids were
probably members of gangs. Anyway, the locals had to have their own "real
gangs with fire power" and recruiters from LA's and Chicago's black ghettos
were only too happy to oblige. They arrived in force some time ago."

"LaTasha's step-brothers are fifteen and seventeen and had been gang
wannabes since their first trip to juvie for torturing dogs and cats when
they were eight and ten--before they knew anything about gangs beyond
TV. They've been in and out of juvie court ever since, often being home for
less than a month between stays in the juvenile detention center. LaTasha's
stepfather beat them, but it only made them worse and certainly didn't stop
their getting in trouble. In fact, they got worse and he got jailed for
child abuse. Nice situation, right?"

I was stunned and said so. "Keith, LaTasha is such a nice person. All this
doesn't make sense."

"Surprised me as well," Keith said. "I was even more surprised that kind of
stuff could be going on and my not know about it. Anyway, to make a long
story short since, as I said, I may have to hang up and run any minute,
there was an incident in East Point and I got fingered by the boys' gang."

"Fortunately, I was in Albany when it happened and got shipped straight up
here. I'm still in the dark about what happened and why I was marked
for--what?--more than a good beating I am sure. So here I am in Detroit and
I can tell you, things are not any better here except no one's targeted
me--yet. I live with Aunt Octavia and her two boys in the projects. I'd be
afraid to go out at night even if I didn't think there might be someone
from the Chicago-East Point gang looking for me. For all practical
purposes, I'm a prisoner. Think there is anyway you could help me out? Get
me some place safe before I crack up?"

"Keith, we got to get you to North Carolina. We're leaving for there
tomorrow--or maybe even tonight--and staying until time for school to
start. Any ideas on how you might escape?"

"I don't have time for details, but I think I could get downtown to the bus
station--I know I can after everyone is in bed--probably around four or
five in the morning. Auntie will be asleep and the cousins won't be back
from tom catting then. But once I get there, what then? I have no money,
nothing."


"If there was a way we could get the money to you, Mom and Dad would help."

"There's a way. Western Union. Dad had to bail a cousin out of a tight spot
several times. He calls it wiring money. I know I have seen Western Union
stickers just about everywhere. I am almost positive there is one at the
bus station. If not...."

"Let's assume there is and if not, call from the bus station, collect. So
get to the station, get the money and buy a ticket to Asheville. Take the
next bus leaving heading in that direction. If you have a lay over, make it
somewhere else; don't hang around Detroit. Got a pen and something to write
on?"

"Yeah, shoot."

I gave Keith Dad's cell phone number. "Call at your first rest stop and
we'll meet you at the Asheville bus station. Oh, if Western Union uses a
password, it'll be East Point Tom. Think you can manage all that?"

"I'll sure as hell try. I owe you big time, my brother." I heard what might
have been a car backfire--or a shot--and Keith said, "I got to run!"

Keith didn't hang up, just dropped the phone and seconds later I heard what
I definitely thought were shots. I really wondered what Keith had gotten
himself into.