Date: Sun, 18 Jan 2004 21:20:36 -0500
From: Dimi and Joey <dimiandjoey@mail.com>
Subject: Now I Know I am Not Alone - Part 5A

I has been years since we promised to write the epilogue to our adventures.
However, recent events have rekindled our desire to tell our story to its
end. We apologize for the delay and hope that you will enjoy this first
installment. The "B" part will follow shortly. As always, you can email us
at dimiandjoey@mail.com with your comments.

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

Now I Know I am Not Alone - Part 5A

"Gyres"

As I sat there playing my baglama after work Friday evening, I found
myself suddenly remembering that Tuesday night long ago before our trip
to the Futaleufu in Patagonia. As if I were still sitting on the couch in
front of the TV screen, I could see Forrest Gump at that bus-stop bench,
saying his now famous line: "Life is like a box of chocolates..." Shit!
Was he right! So much has happened. It is hard to believe that four years
have past -- some with incredible joy and others with grief that no one
can imagine.

Dimi and I are no longer together. My life has changed dramatically; I
married and in the process gained a ready-made family, two beautiful
boys, age thirteen and eleven. My wife Anne was older that I by 11 years.
I was delighted when she told me that she was pregnant with a third child
-- mine; later I was even more delighted when the ultrasound revealed
that the child was a boy. We agreed that his name would be Demetrius.

My thoughts and playing were interrupted by my eleven year old, Matt,
saying, as he sat watching TV in his boxer shorts:

"Dad, when can we go see giagia? We promised her that we would visit
before we leave for Greece next week. Besides, we have to get the keys."

I smiled. Neither Anne nor the boys were Greek, but they had picked up
words and phrases quite easily. Matt was right, though. Of late, I have
found myself putting things off, rationalizing that the drive from Venice
to Tarpon Springs was too long after a day's work. Oh, I should mention
that we are living in Costas' house; he and Aldo now live in Crete
permanently and he "rents" us the house for a hundred dollars a month. My
meeeting Anne, her pregnancy and our marriage torpedoed any hope I had of
going to college full-time, but I have no regrets. My parents were
disappointed after all the strings my father pulled for Dimi and me, but
they accepted my choice. They were delighted to learn of the pregnancy
and marriage. After all, that proved their son was not gay.

"OK, you win, Matt. I surrender! We'll all drive up there next
Saturday." I said jokingly.

As with many children from a former marriage, the biological father has
visitation rights with the children. But my boys were quite unhappy about
seeing their biological father even though it was only every other
weekend.

"Hey, are you guys all packed up? Your father will be picking you up for
the weekend in about two hours and I don't want any crap about not being
ready!" I added ever so quickly.

Their father is, simply put, an ass-hole. He got Anne pregnant at 16, but
did not marry her until after their second son was born. Although I had
tried to adopt both the boys, he refused to give his consent. His
accountant used them as a partial tax deduction and he would never give
up a way to cheat the government. Anne resents the arrangement but nothng
can be done. They are never supervised when they are with him and are
left to their own devices. He is an amateur musician and plays at various
bars and leaves the boys alone in his trailer while he plays.

"Yeah, we're packed." Matt said sadly with his head lowered.

Shortly, a gold Cadillac pulled up on the driveway and the boys carried
their backpacks reluctantly to their father's car. Normally, even though
Anne and I were concerned about the boys when they were with their
father, we would have been somewhat delighted about being alone. However,
there could be no sex because she was pregnant. But we were content to
lie in bed naked, my ear pressed against her swollen belly as I fondled
her breasts. Occasionally, as I pressed my ear to her, I could hear that
little heart beating within her and when I whispered "giasou Dimi," I
could feel a strong kick from within as the baby's reply. With each
kick, my eyes filled with tears, because I knew it was my little Dimi.

The weekend without the boys passed quickly as well as the week before
our trip. We had so much to do and so little time to do it: everything
had to be checked and double-checked. I was also delighted because Costas
and Aldo would be meeting us at Athens International. I fancied that,
like our trip to South America, Costas would meet us right at the plane.
Saturday, the day before our departure, as I had promised, we set out to
visit my family in Tarpon Springs.

I have learned from experience that having both my sons in close
proximity in a confined van was not a good thing. They re-defined sibling
rivalry, fighting about almost anything. They even fight when they are in
the shower together.

"Matt, I want my CD player...now," whined Alan, as only a thirteen year
old can whine

"No, you can't have it. I am listening to The Charlie Daniels Band!"
Hissed Matt.

"But I want it now to..." snapped Alan.

"Both of you, shut up right now! That's enough. We are not even half way
there and you guys are averaging a battle every few miles. Turn off the
CD player and put it on the front seat. I don't want to hear one more
word from either you!" I yelled above the road noise coming through the
open window.

There was silence but it was a very angry silence. Alan saw Matt as the
aggressor and now he was being punished for something that he felt was
Matt's fault. Matt broke the silence shortly:

"Dad, you won't believe what Alan did last weekend in the camper...." He
started in attempted retaliation.

"Matthew, don't tell such a lie. Shut up! Don't you dare...."

Since round two of bickering had started, I intervened immediately.
"That's it; shut up, both of you, or I will turn this van around
immediately." I screamed in anger as I turned around to glare at them and
the van swerved sharply in its lane. However, something caught my
attention. Alan had a scowl on his face, a look of anger and rage, almost
threatening physical violence, and it was directed only toward his
brother. He never called his brother Matthew except when he was very
angry and deadly serious. Since thirteen year olds have gotten involved
with drinking, drugs, and sex, I decided that I would question Matt
further when I had the opportunity to speak to him alone.

As we pulled into my parents' driveway, the boys opened the sliding door
of the van and bounded up to the front door, right into the loving arms
of my parents. I had always been amazed at how quickly both the boys and
my parents adopted each other as relatives. The boys knew that there
would be souvlaki and all sorts of treats so their hugs were brief.

"Giasou Mama. Giasou papa," I whispered as I embraced them both.

Of course, the first thing that they noticed was Anne's absence. I
explained that she was not feeling well and had decided to stay home.
They were disappointed, but they understood. Both her well-being and that
of our baby were of the most importance. After all, we were really wanted
the baby to be born while we were in Greece, and with Costas' assistance
had made all the arrangements. Nothing had been left to chance. As we sat
in the living room, I realized that very little had changed in the house.
They had had the white walls painted a very pale blue, but the furniture
and carpets remained the same. I looked down at the floor, at the very
place Dimi and I made love when my father caught us. As I stared at the
floor, the voices faded to nothing. I was reliving that day that had
altered our lives so completely...

"Hey, Joe! Where are you? Why are you so quiet? Would you like another
glass of ouzo?" joked my mother.

After dinner, we sat, talked, and laughed. Papa gave me the keys and
explained everything about the family's summerhouse in Vouliagmeni where
we would be staying while in Greece. It's about an hour's drive from
Athens, so we had both the city of cities and excusive Kavouri Beach
within reach. My mind wandered as papa spoke. God, so many memories! That
is only about twenty minutes from Glyfada where my old soccer team used
to party naked with those prep school girls!

"Scata (shit), I whispered out loud. "I hope I don't run into any of
them while I am there."

"Who?" asked Papa. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just remembering those snobs from the soccer team at
the academy. I don't really want to see any of them ever again."

"Don't worry," he joked, "They will change their tune when they find out
you are living on Posedonos Avenue."

We laughed about it. Even though Posedonos Avenue is like Beverly Hills,
I still did not want to meet up with any of the kids who had made my life
miserable for eight months. Soon the sun dropped low on the horizon and I
decide that we had to leave to get home early. As we hugged each other
goodbye and my parents wished us well, mama whispered as she hugged me:
"Don't forget to visit Dimi while you are there."

"I won't," I replied, fighting back tears.

Despite all our planning, the morning of our departure was chaotic. Alan
could not find the spare batteries for his CD player and Gameboy, and
Matt frantically searched for his swim fins. After resolving these and
other last minute problems, we loaded the van and were off both to our
vacation in Greece and the eventual birth of our son, assuming of course
that the doctors were right about the delivery date. Many of our friends
thought we were crazy to go to Greece before Anne was to give birth. But
it was what we wanted, what my family wanted; our doctors foresaw no
problems and arranged for all our medical care in Greece. Our son, Dimi,
would be born in the land of his ancestors.

The drive to Tampa was as all other drives with the boys: bickering,
excitement, and giddiness. They still had trouble understanding the times
involved in our trip. It would take between two and a half to three hours
to get from Tampa to our connecting flight to Greece at JFK. From there
it would take about ten hours on a non-stop flight to Athens
International. They could not understand the concept of time zones and
that we would arrive in Athens the next day at 10 AM. I knew that no
matter what we said, they would not sleep on either of the flights and
would be completely exhausted at the end of their first day in Athens.
Anne seemed to block out all the noise and chatter coming from the boys
as we drove I-75 to Tampa. The topics of conversation ranged wide: from
diving in Aegean to the roller coasters at Busch Gardens. The boys had
spent close to two years trying to get me on Mantou and other insane
roller coasters in the park, but to no avail.

I had planned to arrive at Tampa International at least three hours
before our flight; with all the new security in place to combat
terrorism, I knew that it would be a major headache. Once we cleared all
the checkpoints, we were allowed to go to the boarding area. As we sat
there, I remembered the book and took it from my carry bag.

"Honey, " Anne observed, "do you think it is a good idea to leave that
book here and walk away? After all, someone watching on a security
monitor might see it and freak out."

"Yeah, that's a good idea...I better speak to the Delta representative at
the desk just to be sure..."

I took the book to the counter, explained to the airline representative
about leaving the book for someone else to read, and asked her what she
thought. She told me that there was no problem as long as someone knew
about it. As I turned and walked toward an empty seat, I opened the book
and looked at the names inside the cover, then I took my pen and signed
my name below Dimi's. Perhaps, I thought, the next reader will have
better luck with it than we had and I placed in any empty seat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," this is your captain. We are on final approach to
Athens International Airport. The time is 10:15 AM and the temperature is
82 degrees. Remember to adjust your watches! On behalf of the crew of
flight 412, I would like to thank you for choosing Olympic Airways.
Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing."

The ten-hour trans-Atlantic leg of our flight had gone by slowly.
Fortunately, I slept a good part of the time. Anne catnapped because she
wanted to get up from her seat frequently and walk about. The boys, of
course, didn't sleep at all. This was their first airplane flight. They
switched their seats constantly so each could look out the window,
watched movies, snacked constantly, and played their Gameboys
relentlessly. I knew that they would be exhausted and on reserve power
before the end of their first day in Greece. I had done the same thing
when my father sent me to Greece for school. Anne was very excited; she
had never been outside the United States before, and she was nervous too
because she only knew a few phrases in Greek; I assured her that in the
metropolitan areas, everyone spoke English and that she had nothing to
worry about. After clearing customs, we walked toward the exit. I scanned
the crowd, looking for Costas and Aldo. There in a crowd of taxi and lim
o drivers holding signs with the names of their passengers, I saw them. I
roared with laughter and ran toward them. Both of them were carrying
signs reading "Xenakis Family"! The three of us wrapped ourselves around
each other in an embrace. I could feel the tears running down my face.
Costas looked the same, but Aldo had grown up so much. He was a beautiful
young man and amazingly spoke Greek like a native.

"Costas, Aldo... I would like to introduce you to my wife Anne, my son,
Alan, and my son Matthew" I said proudly. "Of course, I cannot leave out
my little Dimi," I said and beamed as I placed my hand on Anne's belly.

"Wow! That was the most powerful kick yet. There's another one! He must
realize he is in his native land." Giggled Anne as moved forward to
embrace Costas and Aldo. The boys were, of course, aloof, shuffling their
feet and looking down but looking forward. They both were at an awkward
age. But I knew that would pass quickly.

After the luggage was loaded, we stopped for some breakfast in the
airport and then began the drive with Costas and Aldo to Vouliagmeni,
about an hour south of Athens on the road to Sounion. All the while we
laughed and joked about our adventures in Patagonia. The boys marveled at
our stories, but, of course, we had to omit the details about our
intimate moments. Anne knew the whole story of my youthful adventures,
but the boys did not.

"What was that kid's name? Yeah...Juan, you know the kid assigned to Site
6. I remember one time when we came back from the river, stripped and
stood there in the pouring rain and he just materialized out of nowhere
umbrella in hand and asked if we wanted something to drink. That was so
strange, anytime we wanted something, even thought about something, poof
and he was there to wait on us... That was the adventure of a life-time."

As we drove, we talked about the rapids on the Futeleufu, the adventures
we had, the beauty of the country, our kayak trip to Anclote key and the
violent thunderstorms. All the good memories of those days came back. But
inside I was sad; I also remembered the bad. The boys leaned forward from
the back seat of the van, listening intently to the tales of our
adventures. They almost could not believe that we had done these things
when we were only three years older than they were. When we arrived at
the house, Anne and the boys were overwhelmed with its beauty and size.
But the beauty of the place soon faded and the lure of their beds won.
They had not slept a wink and collapsed easily into a peaceful sleep of
exhaustion. Anne tucked them in and then came into the living room.

"Honey, Dimi is really kicking up a storm. I know I'm not due for two
weeks but I think he is in a rush to get out!"

I laughed but she looked at me as if she knew something that I did not.
We spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool and chatting with Costas and
Aldo. Neither of them missed Florida. Costas observed that he felt that
the government was becoming too intrusive in the name of protecting
everyone from terrorism and that they were spending everyone's
inheritance and bankrupting the country for future generations. I had to
agree; every day on the news, another dire prediction appeared in a
newspaper or on TV. Sadam Hussein was gone but our presence in Iraq
reminded me of what I had read about Viet Nam in school. Before we knew
it, it was early evening. Dinner had been casual by the pool as we
chatted. We let the boys sleep because we knew that they were exhausted.

"Honey," Anne said as she walked up to us from inside, "I think it is
time. My water just broke!"

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" I screamed with fear and delight. "Costas, call
the hospital. Call the doctors. Aldo, go wake the boys. We have to get to
the hospital."

I could feel myself losing control as I jumped up to embrace Anne. After
what seemed an eternity, we were all in the van, speeding toward Athens
University Hospital. It was a comic scene right out of the movies. Costas
was driving and Aldo was in the front seat. Anne and I were sitting the
middle seat, and the boys were in the back. Aldo kept looking back at us.
Every two seconds I asked if she was OK. Several times she growled at me
to shut up. Her contractions had started! While both the boys were fully
familiar with sex and how babies were made and had caught us making love
more than once, this was a new, first-hand part of their education. They
both leaned forward on the middle seat with worried looks, asking if
mommy was OK. They had tears in their eyes as she moaned with each
contraction.

Dimi arrived later that night at 11:32 PM. He weighed 7 pounds and was
both an American and Greek citizen. I held him for the first time shortly
thereafter. My first words to him were "giasou, Dimi" as I kissed him on
the forehead and he, of course, cried for food. I called my parents from
the hospital and all I could say was "he's here, he's here." They were
delighted, but my mother said that it was fate that he waited until he
was on Greek soil to be born. In traditional fashion all my mother wanted
to know was if he had all his toes and fingers. "Yes mama, he is perfect"
was all I could say. As mother and son slept peacefully, everyone cried
and hugged each other, but they were tears of joy. We decided to go to a
taverna to unwind and get something to eat and drink...actually we wanted
to celebrate the continuation of the Xenakis line. As we sat, laughed,
ate, and drank, I remembered the opening lines from one of Dimi's
favorite poems called "Ecce Puer" (Behold the Boy) b y James Joyce and
proposed it as a toast to my newborn son:

"Of the dark past a child is born

with love and grief my heart is torn

Calm in the cradle the living lies

May love and mercy unclose his eyes."

I can only hope that life offers only what is good to my little Dimi.

Anne's stay in the hospital was brief -- three days. During that time I
had arranged for Dimi to be baptized at St. Denis' in Athens. Costas
would be his godfather and my mother's sister, Melina, would be his
godmother. After the baptism, everyone came back to our home to relax and
celebrate. Anne was still tired and Dimi had a voracious appetite so she
spent much of her time either breast-feeding him or singing him to sleep.
It was pleasant to see that the boys were comfortable with her
breast-feeding him. There was no reaction when she exposed her breast and
allowed Dimi to feed. There was no secrecy here. Everything was out in
the open. I was sure that our attitude about stuff like this would
contribute to a healthy attitude on their part toward sexuality in all
its aspects.

Later that day, we decided to go to our "private" beach. Aldo had
promised to take Alan out on a wave-runner and Costas went along to watch
over the two of them. Matt and I put up the umbrella and put down a
blanket on the sand. I had brought a book to read and Matt had his
brother's CD player. Matt seemed shocked when I stood up after a while
and took off my shorts and reclined naked in the sun.

"Matt, this isn't Florida. You are in Europe. Bathing suits are optional
here. Nudity is OK here." I joked.

I frankly was surprised that Matt reacted the way he did. While most boys
at eleven are quite shy, Matt had no problem with sitting around in his
boxers. He delighted in wearing his "Joe's" as he called them -- short
for "Joe Boxers." He particularly enjoyed one yellow pair with eyes and a
smiling face with a tongue sticking out of the mouth exactly where his
penis would be. He would walk to and from the shower completely naked,
never attempting to cover his privates as he walked past any of us,
including Anne. On some occasions he would walk to the shower, sporting
an erection, and never thinking twice about it. Lately, I have caught him
on numerous occasions humping his bed. I know he was hard because on once
occasion he rolled on his side and you could see his erect dick with his
head swollen within his foreskin. Anne told me that he had been humping
his bed since he was eight. That surprised me at the time but I rarely
thought about it. While he was used to nudity at ho me, he was not used
to it in public where others could see. After a little hesitation, he
took off his shorts, threw them on the blanket and laid down on his
stomach, facing the ever so blue ocean.

"Hey," I joked, "When you get back to school everyone will want to know
how you got a complete body tan."

Several young girls walked naked along the water's edge and Matt
followed them with his eyes like a gun site.

"Come on, let's go for a swim..." I said as I poked his side with my arm.

"Er, I can't get up just now..." He whispered.

"Hard-on, eh?" I laughed. "Don't worry. Everybody has them at first. The
girls don't even notice them. Eventually, once you get used to seeing
girls naked nothing will happen. I had a teacher who said that it's all
in the mystery, not seeing what you want to see.."

Hesitatingly, Matt got to his feet, looking down at the snow-white sand.
He was embarrassed. Surrounding his erection, I could see a few curls of
pubic hair. Yes, he was entering puberty earlier than his brother had.
Anne and I would have to have the detailed talk with him soon about sex
but more importantly about sexual responsibility.

After our swim, we returned to the blanket. I remembered the episode in
the van on our way to my parents' home. Since we were alone on the
beach, I decided that this would be an ideal time to ask him about the
comment that he had made.

"Matt, remember when we went to see giagia before we left for Greece. You
started to tell me about something in the camper the weekend before when
you were with your father. Wanna talk about it now?"

"No. I can't. You'll be REALLY mad if I tell you and then you will tell
mom," he said hesitatingly as he traced designs in the sand.

"Matt, if something bad happened, I have to know about it; I promise I
will not get mad and I will not tell mom. You know what a pinky swear is.
Here's my pinky," I said calmly as I extended my pinky to him.

He locked his pinky with mine and then said in a very low hesitating
voice:

"Alan sucked Eddie's thing when we were in the camper ..."

I was shocked. I asked him to repeat what he had said. Often he reverted
to childish words when he was talking about private parts. I knew what he
meant when he said "thing."

"Hold on," I said nervously. "First of all, you mean that Alan sucked on
Eddie's pee-pee, his penis? Who is this guy Eddie and how did he get in
the camper?"

"Yup," Matt nodded his head affirmatively. "Eddie is one of my friends
that I invited along so I wouldn't be bored. While we were in the camper
alone, Alan said `Let's have a naked party.' He and Eddie took off all
their clothes and then Alan sucked his thing. Then Eddie sucked Alan, and
then they humped each other."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Was Matt making this up to get
his brother in trouble?" was my first thought. I knew that their sibling
rivalry approached almost biblical proportions. If he were making it up,
I suspected that the story would lack details, so I asked what he,
meaning Matt, did while this was going on. He told me that he just sat in
his boxers, watching TV.

"So, was Alan hard when he took off his clothes?" I asked and Matt
replied that he was.

"Did Alan do anything else while he sucked on Eddie's thing?" I
continued. Matt replied that he rubbed his thing up and down with his
other hand.

"Did anything happen while he was rubbing?" Matt replied, "White stuff
squirted out."

"Does Eddie have skin covering the head of his thing like you do?"
Matt's reply was "No."

I was getting very nervous. There was no hesitation on Matt's part. The
details appeared to be there. I continued my questioning.

"Now you said that Alan humped Eddie. Exactly what to you mean?

"Well," began Matt, speaking more calmly now, "he spread Eddie's legs
and then put his thing in him and pushed it in and out like you hump a
girl."

"Look," I interrupted, "you know the right words. You're a big boy. Call
it a penis or a dick, but stop calling it a `thing.' This is serious!"

"OK" was Matt's only reply.

"Was Eddie laying on his stomach or on his back when Alan humped him?

"He was laying on his stomach," answered Matt matter of factly.

"Did Alan push his dick inside Eddie's ass" I asked, and Matt replied
"Yup. He put a lot spit on Eddie's butt hole before he did it."

"Did Eddie say anything when Alan put it into him?" Matt replied, "He
said it hurt a lot."

By now I was terrified. All the details were there and they were very
accurate. Matt could not be making such a story up on the fly. He had to
be describing something that he had seen with his own eyes. I resolved to
continue my questions further just to make sure.

"Has Alan done this stuff with others?" Matt answered, "Yes, with lots of
them. Some of his friends and a lot of my friends."

"Were they all boys?" Matt replied, "Yup."

"Has Alan ever done anything with you?"

Matt hesitated and then answered:

"Yup. He's been sucking my dick since I was eight years old and I have
sucked his too. But I stopped sucking his this year when he squirted that
white stuff in my mouth. It tasted all salty and disgusting. He used to
hump me when I was younger but now I won't let him do it because his
dick is so big. I know it would hurt a lot. All I do now is let him suck
my dick when we are in the shower together or when we sleep together."

Matt's last answer removed any doubt I might have had. Things that Anne
had told me suddenly made a great deal of sense. Alan slept with Matt a
lot because he was "scared." Matt had started humping his bed when he was
eight years old. That was when Alan started sucking on his dick. Matt
obviously liked the feeling and discovered that he did not always need
Alan to satisfy him. I resolved to ask one last question:

"Matt," I said very seriously, "What do you think of what Alan has done
to you and other boys?"

"I think that it's very bad," answered Matt. "it's not right. You
should only do that kind of stuff with a girl."

Matt's answer convinced me that he most probably was straight and that
he was lured into this perhaps out of curiosity. Perhaps too, what Alan
had done to him and continued to do to him accounted for the unbelievable
sibling rivalry between them. I decided not to tell Anne about it and to
ask Costas about how to proceed with this problem.

"Well, Matt, if you don't like what Alan is doing to you and you think
that it is bad then you have to tell him that you don't want to do it
any more. You have to understand that there are boys who like girls, boys
who like boys and girls, girls who like boys and girls, girls who like
girls, and boys who like boys. I think Alan falls into the last category,
boys who like boys. I think you fall into the first category, boys who
like girls." I said, intending to end the conversation because the wave
riders were returning to the beach.

"Yup. I only like girls," was Matt's answer to my last statement.

"Then you have to stop letting your brother do these things to you." I
said as Alan came screaming toward the blanket, elated from his wave
riding.

When the whole group gathered at the blanket, I suggested that Aldo take
Alan and Matt out for one last ride before we went back to the house for
dinner. As they ran down the beach to the wave runners right past a few
naked girls, I noticed that Matt was the only one who slowed down to
enjoy the view.

"Costas," I began, "I just discovered that I have a problem with Alan." I
began, telling him the details of the conversation that I had just had
with Matt.

Costas thought for a few minutes and then said that I had to talk to Alan
about it and that, if he did fall into the category boys who like boys,
then it was imperative that he learn caution and the lessons that Dimi
and I had learned the hard way. He also said that it would be best not to
tell Anne about what I had learned right now.

We had decided not to begin exploring Athens for at least a week so all I
had to do was wait for an opportunity to speak to Alan alone. I also
decided that I would bring the topic up by letting him read the four
parts of "Now I Know I Am Not Alone" that we published on Nifty.org.
Hopefully he would react to the stories as positively as countless
readers had in their mails to us. There happened to be plays being
performed at the theatre at the base of the Acropolis and Costas and Aldo
offered to take the boys to break the monotony of beach activities, but
only Matt wanted to go. This provided the opportunity that I needed to
speak with Alan. I told Anne only that I wanted to talk with Alan about
some "manly" things because of the way he had been looking at the naked
girls on the beach. She agreed, and I had the opportunity for my
completely private talk with him.

"Hey, Alan, let's go into the library. I want to talk with you about
some stuff." I said calmly, trying not to arouse any suspicions.

After I closed the door and started walking toward a chair, Alan blurted
out, "I didn't do it." I was surprised; there was a denial before an
accusation. I sat him down at the computer and went to nifty.org and
brought up the stories. He did not know what was going on.

"Sit down and read these stories that Dimi and I wrote when we were
younger. I think you might learn something from them."

He gave me that "dumb" look but he began to read and as he read I could
see that he was being drawn into the stories. He read and read non-stop
for an hour and a half, sometimes going back and re-reading parts.

"You know what I've done, don't you?" I nodded my head and he looked
down at the floor in shame.

"Alan, you have to understand one thing. You are who you are and what you
are. It is the hand life has dealt you. But you have to understand that
with that hand comes obligations and precautions. Are you a boy who likes
girls, a boy who likes boys or a boy who likes boys and girls?"

"Boys only" was Alan's reply as tears fell from his eyes and spattered
on the tile floor.

I asked him if he was absolutely sure and he said that he was. I put my
arms around him and pressed his head to my shoulders, kissed his head,
and told him that he had a lot to learn and that I would try to protect
him from all the mistakes that Dimi and I had made.

"Dad," Alan asked, "the stories end when your friend Dimi came to Greece
to fly back with you to Florida. What happened after that? That was two
years ago. I've met all your friends except Dimi"

"Those were the really dark times; times that I would prefer not to
remember. Hell is a real place and we were both there. Maybe, I will tell
you about them; but it's painful for me even to think about them let
alone re-tell the story to someone else. That is why we never wrote the
final chapter that we promised. You will meet Dimi before we leave
Greece. I promised my mother we would go to see him. He is in Asprias
with his mother's sister's family.

That night I tossed and turned but could not sleep so I went down to the
media room, turned on the satellite news, and curled up in a corner of
the couch. I dozed off and awoke to find Alan sitting on the couch with
his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands. He wore only his
boxers. I knew he was troubled now that his sexual orientation was in
open for at least one person. I put out my arms to him and whispered,
"Come here, babe!" In an instant he was next to me, molding his body to
mine. He hugged he more tightly than he had ever hugged me before. He
buried his face in my neck and I could feel his tears running down my
shoulder. He lifted his head and kissed me on the lips. He then started
to slide his hand up my leg under my boxers. I reached down and stopped
him. I was not going to do what Costas had done years ago for Dimi.

"NO, Alan. That is not the answer. Let me tell you what happened after
Dimi came to Greece."


*************  to be continued    **************************