Date: Sun, 13 Mar 2005 19:47:10 -0800 (PST)
From: Virtual Insanity <virtualinsanity78@yahoo.com>
Subject: Summer of Change 8

Okay, this is not a story with a whole lot of sex.  Some will come in here
and there, but it is not the central theme.  It's a story about love
between men and self-acceptance, kinda like all of my stories are.

If you're under 18 or 21 or whatever, be aware that in some odd corner of
the universe, you could possbly be breaking the law.

If you like anything of mine, please e-mail me at
virtualinsanity78@yahoo.com and I will be very grateful to you and a lot
more likely to write faster updates. If you don't like what I write, keep
it to yourself. :-)

IMPORTANT!!!  This story includes excerpts of Paul & Morgan's memoir, which
I will separate from the rest of the story with asteriks like the one's
below.  If this is confusing, e-mail me and let me know and I will try to
figure something else out!

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

			   Part Eight

	The thing that killed me about the Morgan and Paul thing was that
it was so fucking stupid.  I mean, I do stupid shit sometimes, but not that
stupid.  Yeah, cornering Skit in the freshman gym was probably the
stupidest thing I had done, but what else was I supposed to do?  He was
looking at me and everybody was starting to notice.  The bottom line was
that I had been scared...and I don't normally do all that well with being
scared.

	Reading about how absolutely, fucking stupid Morgan had been in his
20s was the only thing that kept me from finding out where that kid Drew
lived and beating the living shit out of him.  I decided that I was not
going to be as stupid as Morgan had been, plain and simple.

	Which was reason number one that I was sitting in Morgan's office,
biting my thumbnail down to the quick.  I had called him up the night
before and told him that I was going to take him up on that offer for
conversation.  He'd told me to meet him earlier than normal in his office.
The sun hadn't even really risen and there I was, waiting for Morgan to get
his morning cup of coffee.

	When he got it and came to sit down across from me at his desk, I
felt kind of the way you do when you are in a guidance counselor's office.
For one full, solid minute I wanted to just stand up and get out of there,
but something made me stay.

	"Did you read the last chapter I gave you?" Morgan asked and I
nodded, quickly.

	"What did you think?" Morgan asked, his eyes were intent on me and
I decided not to beat around the bush or anything.

	"You were fuckin' stupid as hell," I mumbled at him and he started
laughing.  When he laughed really hard, he got these wrinkles around his
eyes that were kind of nice.  I could sort of see why Paul had been so into
him when they were younger.

	"That's a way to put it," Morgan said after he'd stopped laughing,
but he was still grinning.  "Paul thought pretty much the same thing...but
as you know I won him back, I'm lucky.  You, on the other hand, are pretty
stupid and we don't know exactly what the outcome will be.  So, let's talk
about that."

	I shifted in my seat, leaning forward, a bit with my legs spread
wide and looked down at the carpeted floor.

	"Yeah," I said quietly.

	"So, where do you want to start?" he asked me and I just shrugged.
I didn't really know where to start.  "Why don't we start at the point
where you tell me about how long you've known that you're attracted to
guys."

	I looked up and looked him in the eye.

	"I've only ever been attracted to Skit," I told him, swallowing
hard.  "And I didn't figure that out until a couple of weeks ago."

	"Did you date girls before that?" Morgan asked me and I shook my
head.

	"No, I never dated anybody before," I said quietly.  "I just play
football and hang out with my friend Mike.  I haven't cared much one way or
another about dating and girls."

	"And how do you feel about Skit?" Morgan asked, quietly assessing,
his eyes fixed on me like I was some kind of lab specimen or something.

	"I don't know," I mumbled, faltering.  "I like him, I think.  I
mean, I like some stuff about him.  The way he looks and what I know about
him...but I don't know all that much.  I've talked to him like three times
and one of those times I was threatening to beat him up."

	"Yeah, Vicki talked to us about that incident," Morgan admitted,
eyeing me for a moment to see how I reacted, I guess.  "I have to admit,
you were not my first choice for the job this summer, but Paul has a soft
spot for hard cases."

	I smirked.  "I can tell by what I read," I told him and he smiled
at me.

	"So, what kind of game plan do you have?" he asked me and I just
stared at him.  Game plan?  I was supposed to be the one to come up with
something?  Hell, I could barely even think straight. That's what I'd come
to him for.

	"I don't have a plan," I told him.

	"Well, you need to come up with one," Morgan told him.  "And you'll
have what I didn't have when I was your age."

	"What's that?" I asked.

	"Someone to tell you whether or not your plan makes any sense," he
told me.  I ran my hand across the top of my head, a little stressed and
trying not to show it.  I looked at him and I must have looked terrified
because his eyes softened when as he watched me.  It was like a barrier
came down between us.

	"Don't be scared of who you are," Morgan told me.  "Take everything
one step at a time.  A lot of what I'm saying may sound cliche and lame,
but this kind of stuff wouldn't be repeated so many times if it didn't
work.  Just think of what you should do to make things right and do them."

	"I should probably talk to him," I said.  "But what if he doesn't
want to talk to me?  And what am I supposed to tell him, that I'm queer for
him?"

	Morgan laughed.

	"Do what you think is best," Morgan told me.  "But remember that if
you never take any risks, you'll never get any rewards...and you're lucky.
At least you already know that Skit is gay and that he's had feelings for
you.  A lot of guys come in here and they have no idea whether the person
they are interested in is even gay at all.  Imagine having to figure that
out."

	I agreed.  I was pretty lucky because the guy I wanted was already
out and had already basically said that he wanted me back.  All I had to do
was figure out how to talk to him...figure out what the hell it was I was
trying to accomplish with all of this.

	"And let me know how things progress," Morgan said, then reached
into his desk and pulled out a folder.  "In the mean time, you might want
this."  I took the next chapter and cradled it to my chest.

	"Thanks," I told him.

				   ***

	So, I gave myself a pep talk on the loading dock, kind of like I do
before a big game.  I put a DMX cd into the boombox there and moved a whole
van load of antique bullshit onto the loading shelves there.  I also moved
a bunch of peices that were just about ready to go on display in the store
closer to the door so that they could get their last minute touch-ups or
whatever.

	It was just like my workout the night before the game, when I
pumped myself up so that I not only felt like a raging beast, but looked
like one, too.  All the while in my head, I was thinking up scenarios of
what I would do and say when I ran into Skit and what I would not do and
say when I ran into Drew.

	Because Morgan and Paul were doing a hell of a lot for me, not just
as far as a paycheck, but helping me out with what was going on in my head
and shit, I had made a promise to myself that I was not gonna fuck that up
by beating Drew's ass on their store property.  Now, if Drew came at me
with any shit off of their property, I could make no guarantees.

	By the time the CD came to an end, I was done working back there
and I figured that I might as well go into another part of the store so
that I could increase my chances of running into Skit.

	When I saw him, he was standing in Misti's workroom, calmly helping
her remove ugly puke green paint from a bedroom set. He was wearing work
clothes, which consisted of a pair of cargo style khakis and an old, worn
Red Hot Chilli Peppers concert t-shirt.  It was the most normal thing I'd
ever seen him wear...only his hair was lime green.

	Drew was in there, too, of course, sanding some other pieces under
Misti's direction.  He looked over his shoulder at me, but I ignored him
and walked over to Skit.

	"Hey, Skit," I said quietly.  I swear my stomach muscles were
clenching so painfully I thought I was gonna puke right there in front of
him. He turned and looked at me.  His eyes were wide with shock and he
stared up at me.  At the look in his blue eyes, I was ready to turn around
and get the hell out of there.  What the fuck was I doing?  Was I gonna be
fucking gay?

	"Hey," he said back...and his voice was smooth and almost liquid.
I could almost feel it running down my spine.  My heart started pounding in
my chest.  Yeah, I was gonna be fucking gay.

	"I wanted to know if...you wanna maybe...um," I could feel both
Drew and Misti's eyes poring into me and I shot them both a look, then kind
of turned away from them so that I was shielding myself and Skit from them.
"We could maybe talk and have lunch somewhere tomorrow?"

	Skit looked at me as if I had grown two heads.  He put down his
scraper, there were flecks of the ugly paint all over him.  I reached over
and picked a couple of pieces off of him absently and he stood completely
still.  When I saw his eyes on me, huge and questioning, I realized what I
was doing and stopped.

	"Cuz, I need to talk to you," I told him and when his eyes turned
cautious, like he was afraid of me, I felt like something inside of me was
bleeding.  "And I promise I...  I'm not gonna do anything to hurt you."  I
hoped to God that he could see how fucking sincere I was because I wasn't
good at all of the emotional bullshit.

	"Y-yeah, okay," he said slowly, still watching me.  I breathed a
heavy sigh of relief.  I could see that he didn't exactly trust me, but I
could also see hope in his eyes as plain as day.  He was afraid, but he was
willing to take the risk.  God, what made him feel so strongly about me?

	"Okay," I said, a little more steady.  "I'll meet you in the
parking lot around noon tomorrow?"

	"Okay," he said quietly and I smiled at him.

	"Okay," I said.  He was smiling back, so I stood there and watched.
I hadn't seen him smile all that much before.  We must have stood there for
awhile, smilng at each other because when I looked over at Misti and Drew,
she was grinning at us and Drew had gone back to sanding with a vengeance.

	"Yeah, so, I'm gonna go," I said and turned in a full circle as I
walked away so that I could look back and see what Skit was doing.  He was
watching me, clasping his hands together in front of him like he was
nervous or didn't know what to do with them or something.  God, he was
cute.

	Now, I just had to figure out what the hell I was gonna say to him
when we were alone together tomorrow.
******************************************************************* Paul &
Morgan 6

Paul:
	It would be nice to say that I built a fabulous life in
California...and I really didn't do as bad as a lot of guys I met.  The
things that probably saved me from all kinds of madness were my severe and
unrelenting depression over Morgan, the fact that I was too straight-laced
to do any drugs and my tendency to drown my sorrows in work.

	I made a lot of money in the five years I spent there.  I also met
a lot of guys who were just like me, running away from a past that didn't
jibe well with their own sexuality, but in the long run, you can never
outrun your problems.  They'll find you in the end...and when they do, they
are normally a lot worse than when they started.

	My dad was diagnosed with liver cancer in 1974.  I'd been writing
them all along, impressing on them the fact that I was queer and that I
needed to build a life where I could be totally accepted.  My mother begged
me to come home and my dad did the equivalent, writing one sentence in a
letter that my mom sent, telling me that he'd had a queer buddy when he was
a teenager and that he wanted me to come home.

	Of course, I didn't out Morgan.  He was married to my sister.  My
mom had sent me a picture from the wedding and I kept it in my wallet as a
reminder.  But I knew that seeing them like that in the flesh was enough to
kill me.

	So, when I found out that my dad was dying, I jumped on the first
plane home.  I didn't want to go, of course, but what do you do in a
situation like that?

	In the years that I had been gone, Morgan had graduated from
college with a degree in accounting.  He and Louisa had a daughter named
Leslie.  I had her baby photo in my wallet as well.  Ryan had married and
his wife was expecting as well.  I was the black sheep of the family,
coming home from my hiding place.  I didn't even know how I was going to
handle seeing them all again, but I just tried to think of my dad.

	Ryan met me at the airport.  I greeted him with a big hug and
handed over one of my bags.  There were dark circles under hs eyes.

	"How is dad?" I asked.  Ryan looked at me for a long, silent
moment.

	"Dad's doing suprisingly well," he told me.  "You look great."

	I managed a short smile.  My tan and sun-bleached hair probably
made me seem as if I was living some kind of carefree life back in
California to him.

	"Thanks," I said, walking with him out of the airport. "Have you
been staying up late with dad?"

	"No," Ryan said.  "Dad's at home.  There's really nothing much they
can do for him.  We have to ride it out, but right now, he's practically
normal.  We know things will go downhill at some point, but he's holding up
well."

	"Okay," I said, nodding and letting that soak in as I climbed into
Ryan's car.  "So, why do you look so stressed?"

	Ryan started the car and pulled out into traffic before he answered
me.

	"Morgan and Louisa are driving me crazy," Ryan said quietly.  "I
spent half of the night at their place."

	I didn't ask any more questions.  I'd made a rule for myself.  I
wasn't going to talk about Morgan.  I was going to avoid all potential
interaction with him. I was just going to focus on my dad.

	Ryan looked over at me.

	"You're going to have to do something," he told me as he drove.

	"What?" I asked, my heart pounding a little in my chest.  "For
dad?"

	Ryan laughed.

	"No, Paul," he told me.  "Dad's made his peace with life.  He wants
to see you, of course, but he's doing well.  He could live another year or
more.  He's out playing cards with mom and her friends."

	I looked at him incredulously.

	"Mom called, she was distraught," I told him.  "She said I had to
come home now."

	"Morgan has been drinking steadily for two weeks," Ryan informed
me. "He's lost his job at the accounting firm.  Leslie has been at my house
for more than a week.  Louisa has gone into some sort of hippie phase, she
won't clean the house.  She won't cook.  She's been listening to Van
Morrsion and Joni Mitchell and chain-smoking for about a week."

	I stared at him in shock.  First of all, nothing he said made any
sense.  Morgan had never been a drinker...and Louisa smoking was such a
foreign concept that I couldn't even wrap my mind around it.

	"What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

	"Go in there and take care of the mess you left behind," Ryan told
me without batting an eye.  I stared at him in horror.

	"I can't go in there and talk to them," I exclaimed, turning
sideways to stare at him.  "I can't do that, Ryan. I have nothing to say to
them."

	"Well, you'd better think of something," Ryan told me and started
driving through unfamiliar streets.  My insides started quaking hard.

	"Where are you taking me, Ryan?" I asked.

	"Where do you think, Paul, to Morgan and Louisa's," he told me.
"That's where you're staying."  I put my hand on the steering wheel and
caused the car to swerve in its lane on the little tree-lined street we
were on.  Ryan stopped the car and just like that, I hopped out.

	I didn't have my bags with me, but my wallet was in my back pocket
and I started walking in the direction we had come from.

	"Paul," Ryan screamed from the car.  I looked back and he'd parked
haphazardly and gotten out.  He started walking towards me.

	"Paul, you can't keep running away from this," he told me and I
sped up.  He was insane.  What was I supposed to do but run away?  He sped
up, too, so I started jogging.  Ryan had always been in better shape than
me, he caught up with me in no time and snapped me around to face him.

	"Ryan, just take me back to the airport," I demanded.  "If dad
doesn't need me, then I'm leaving."

	"No, Paul, I can't let you leave," Ryan told me.  "I let you leave
five years ago when everything inside of me was telling me to stop
you. That was a mistake.  I should have been there for you...and for
Morgan.  He's my best friend.  I knew from the first moment you two met
that there was something there, but I was too busy trying to deny it to
realize how out of hand this could get.  But I can't do that anymore.
There are too many lives at stake here.  This is driving mom crazy.  Leslie
doesn't even know what a normal home life is.  Louisa's going to end up in
an institution and Morgan will probably drink himself to death."

	"I - It can't be that bad," I said.

	"It's that bad, Paul," Ryan said firmly.  "Do you want to know what
Louisa told me a few nights ago?"

	I looked at him, at the ferocious expression on his face and nodded
very reluctantly.

	"She told me that on her wedding night, when Morgan was taking her
virginity, he called out your name," Ryan told me in a raspy voice.  "At
the point of no return when he was spilling his seed inside of her to make
their goddamn daughter, Paul, he was calling out your name."

	I swallowed hard, my face ashen.

	"So, if you're not going to go over there willingly, Paul, make no
mistake about it, you will still be going," Ryan told me and I nodded.

	I walked back with him, got back in the car and didn't protest
anymore.
*******************************************************************

To be continued.......

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