Date: Sun, 08 Jul 2007 16:20:34 -0400
From: niftyreadersclub@aol.com
Subject: My Son's Requesst

This story is completely fictional, so please read at your own discretion.
It involves moments between a father and son that are not regarded as
acceptable in lawful society, yet has a meaning all its own.  As I see it,
the world is a very scary place going into the unknown when on the other
hand, turning to familiarity, trust and safety I hold in high regard toward
experience, knowledge and understanding.  I hope you read between the lines
and see a message of this.  Comments may be emailed to
niftyreadersclub@aol.com.  Please enjoy...

ONE OF SEVEN

I was running late in getting home for Nathan's birthday.  Traffic was tied
up, the heat of the day was getting to me, and it was generally just a bad
day at the office.  My wife, Maggie, called me twice while on the way home
to ask me where I was.  It was almost as irritating as the traffic.  Just
one of those days when you'd rather just let yourself snap than put up with
everything patiently.

Trying to abandon work issues in my mind, and almost home, I thought of
Nate turning sixteen, a gangling boy turning into a young man.  He's my
oldest son.  I'm a fit, forty-four year old man who, years ago, told myself
I wouldn't allow any generation gaps to happen between myself and my
children no matter what, and it's worked so far.  Except for disliking
punk/hip hop/rap music, I was doing pretty good.  I also thought about the
note I'd found this morning under the windshield wiper of my car.  It was
from Nate; a short, to the point message that told me he wanted to talk to
me at some point today alone.  It was in my mind all day, that mystery of
what it could be about.  But then again, turning sixteen, I assumed my son
wanted all the normal things someone turning that age always wanted but was
afraid to ask.

I made it home with just enough time to greet the kids and Maggie, say the
first `happy birthday' of the day to Nate, change, and get us all in the
car to go to dinner.  Getting all of that behind me and us, and returning
home, Nate's present from us was in the parking lot where I asked my
brother to leave it once we were away from the house, a big dark blue
ribbon around it.  We bought Nate a car.  He was ecstatic.  He told us he
assumed he'd get a car, but none the less was surprised and overjoyed that
it was a true assumption.  I got the free moment while Maggie got cake and
ice cream going to pull Nate aside and tell him that we could go for a ride
and talk afterward.  It was funny that he nodded nervously in agreement.
It prompted me to think that he actually had something to tell me that
wasn't going to be pleasant, and a million `dad' fears ran through my head.
It didn't turn out to be at all anything I could have suspected.  Not from
Nate.

He was into sports at school, very academic, and on debate teams that was
worthy of pride.  Just before ten that evening, we managed to get away and
go for that ride.  In his new car, I asked Nate, "So where are we going?"

Nate was tense and nervous starting the car and backing out of the drive
way.  "I didn't know it was gonna be so late, dad, but I thought we'd drive
over to the Mar Woods."

"The Mar Woods, huh?"  I asked.  "I suppose, it's lit well enough along the
parkway.  You've got me curious, son.  Is something wrong?"  I tried not to
sound or look worried.

"No.  Not really," he shrugged his shoulders, "I just need to talk."

We chatted about every day things until we got across town to the wooded
park my family loves to go to for picnics.  There was very few people still
around the park, as it had a curfew of eleven p.m. so we had about
forty-five minutes to honor the city ordinance.  The two of us started
walking, and I remained silent until Nate wanted to say whatever he wanted
to tell me.  He actually started out in a very...quizzing way.

"Dad, would you always care about me no matter who I turned out to be?"

Both of us were walking with our hand in our pockets.  Thinking about this
and after a few years of a sneaking suspicion, I thought I finally knew
what this was all about.  "I love you, Nathan, I always will."  He was
about to start saying something else but I stopped him short.  "Say, before
you go into this, may I tell you a few things myself that might make you
feel more comfortable?"

"Sure, I guess."  His tension released a bit with a smile.

"And by all means," I had to add honestly, "if I'm wrong, correct me, with
no harm done."  He nodded, so I continued.  "Well, I know that since you
went through puberty, your attention to girls has never really been
evident."  I stopped, looking at him, until he finally confirmed this.
"Your mother and I...well, we have been curious about your sexual
preferences, and we both agreed that who ever you tell us you are, that's
who you'll be to us, no changes, no arguments, no fights."

He looked bewildered.  "Really?"

"Yes.  I think that for the past few years, your mother and I have been
anticipating some word from you about this.  We thought it wouldn't be
until some time after high school graduation, but I'm honestly glad this is
rearing its head earlier, so you feel the family love and the support to
grow into who you are with confidence.  I admit, I'm not knowledgable of
any of this, but I can learn."

He chuckled.  "YOU'RE not knowledgable?  Dad, you should be in my shoes!"
I smiled.  "I'm scared."  That revelation caused me to wrap an arm around
his shoulders.  "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Being scared?"  I asked.  "Of what, exactly?  Your mother and I?  Society?
Prejudiced people?"

Nate stopped us both and we faced each other.  He seconds later looked away
into the darkness of the woods when he decided to give his explanation.
"Dad, I think I know what I want.  It's on my mind, but at the same time I
don't know what I want.  What I'm afraid of the most here, believing that I
like guys sexually, is getting into the first time."

That caused me to be on the more protective side of his choices.  "Nate, I
want you to pay attention to what I'm about to say.  You're sixteen.  There
is no pressure for you to jump into this without that fear and without
thinking."

"But dad, I'm tired of playing with myself and dreaming and sneaking looks
and stuff.  I'm more frustrated than anything, so I thought I'd go to you
and ask you to help me with this."  All that came out of him in a
whispering flood of emotional fear.

Dumbfounded, I asked, "What are you asking me?"

He stepped away, and kicked a pine cone from the sidewalk out onto the
grass.  But just as quickly as he'd stepped away, he stepped back closer to
me and rest his head on my shoulder.  "Dad, there are many things going
through my head that I can do because it's all making me crazy, but I don't
want to go crazy and do something stupid."

"Okay," I said right in his ear.

"Would you share this with me?"  He whispered.

Taken aback at what I thought he was requesting, I didn't know what to say.
My eyebrows knotted questioningly.  "What do you want me to share with you,
son?"

"My first sexual experience.  It's a lot to ask, I know it is," He wrapped
his arms around my torso and crushed me with a hug.  "But you're safe, and
I don't think I'll have to be afraid."

"Nate, do you have...ANY idea what you're asking?"

"I'm asking my father to share a crisis with me, and hope he understands
why I'm asking," he told me so quickly it made my head spin and I stumbled
out of his embrace that he let me get out of easily.  I dropped to my knees
in the grass, looking out into the darkness of the woods, not expecting any
of this at all.  Not at all.  From behind me, I heard him saying, "I
wouldn't ask this just because, dad.  I gave it a lot of thought."

"But Nate, I have...no interest in men sexually, and you're still just a
boy.  I can't even think of you-of us..."

In a heartbreaking voice he asked, "Will you just think about it?"

"I shouldn't."  Saying that was automatic.  "There are laws.  Your mother.
I shouldn't.  No.  I shouldn't think about it at all."  "I'm asking you
to."  Those four simple words sounded jut like any other plea my little boy
made about anything in life I originally said no to right off the bat.

Standing up and starting walking, I said, "Come on.  Let's go home."  I
walked maybe fifteen, twenty feet before I realized I didn't hear him
coming up behind me.  I turned to see him standing where I left him, and I
saw tears glistening off his face from the light of the lamps.  "Nate."  I
called his name with sternness.  "I didn't say I wouldn't think about all
of this.  We'll talk.  Let's just go home."

On the drive home, I didn't know what to think, how to think, what to ask,
how to talk, and for the first time in my marriage there was something in
my life that I could never tell my wife about.  I managed to look at Nate
and ask him, "Do you really want to touch me like that?"

He thought about that.  "It's not that I WANT to, dad, it's that I'm
willing to.  This is all a willing thing to me.  I don't know if I'm
actually gay, dad, but something's just there.  I may not like it, it may
not be for me.  I don't know.  What I do know is that if I experiment, I
want to experiment with someone that I know I won't have any regrets after
if it's not what I want, and I'll actually know.  I don't know how else to
tell you why I'm thinking what I'm thinking.  I trust you."

I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose.  We were almost home.
His stating his trust in me was actually a comfort among all of this.  I
reached over and gave his shoulder a firm grip.  "Let's just...let this
hover, Nate.  Okay?  You've really thrown me for a loop."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just stand back from this right now.  You told me this and
I...I...I've gotta compute a lot of things."

I felt his smile more then saw it.  We got home and the others were already
in bed.  In the kitchen, I opened the fridge and poured myself a large
glass of water and swallowed it down, then poured and drank another.  Going
upstairs, I decided to try to say something more to my son, and knocked on
his door.  He was still dressed, and sitting on his bed with head phones
on.  I sat beside him, and pulled the head set off his head.

"Look.  I'm glad you trust me.  I really am."  I spoke in a whisper because
we were in the house.  "What if I have to say no to this, son?  Did you
think about that?"

He nodded in confirmation solemnly.  "I thought I'd try.  I thought I'd go
to the one person in my life that I believed would understand."  That hit
my gut like a blow, to think my son would ever feel I didn't try to
understand him, especially coming to me so frankly.  "I just thought I'd
try, and even if it didn't happen, we'd still be the same two people."

I nodded.  "Okay.  Did you have a good birthday?"

"I got a car, dad.  What do you think?"  We laughed and I couldn't help but
hug him to me.  "What I'm asking is hard, I know, dad," he said in my ear,
"it's just that you're the closest person in the world to me."

"I know," a tear escaped my eyes.  "Give this time.  Who knows, you may
outgrow what you're asking, or something else will happen.  Who knows?
We'll sit on this, and it'll be just between you and me.  Okay?"

"Okay."

I left his room and went to my bed.  Undressing in the dark, I realized
that what ever I was actually feeling, I didn't feel any dirtiness or harm.
It was a brave thing, what Nate did.  I could only admire him for it, no
matter what.  There was a lot of trust between us.  I fell asleep thinking
about that.