Date: Sun, 01 Nov 1998 06:33:11 PST
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Kenny_3

This is a story about a love between two young boys. The
usual disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or
reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then
please leave this story unread now. There are within the
story explicit descriptions of sex between boys, but that is
not the main theme; so if your thing is reading stories that
are purely sex in nature then this story will probably not be
to your liking.

The story is made up of both fact and fantasy. The people
herein are real, but their names have been changed. The rest
of the story, as I said, is a mixture of fact and fantasy . . . 
perhaps how I wish it had happened. As to what is fact and
what isn't, I shall keep that to myself. As usual, comments
and suggestions are welcome; flames will be ignored.

In this part of the story I make reference to some unpleasant
experiences I had at the church I was attending at the time. I
want to state up front that it is NOT the organized Church I
am criticizing, nor is it God himself! My problem, in this
case, was with one individual within a certain church. Given
my age and how long ago it happened, I presume the man is
dead by now so I cannot hurt him personally, nor do I want
to. But I am pretty sure such things happen today in much
the same way.

I also wish to remind readers that the actions and reactions
presented here are from the viewpoint of a fourteen year old
boy, and a very depressed and confused one at that. I guess
that's why I'm writing this, to express some of the
frustration I felt at one point in my life. For most of my life I
have been involved with the Church, and still am. I
personally need the influence I get there, but I remind
everyone that the organized church is made up of human
beings, and none of them is perfect. Bottom line: I am NOT
criticizing the church, I LOVE the church!

I also want to say that I have been receiving a lot of email
regarding this story. At first I tried to answer every one, but
that got to be a bit of a burden and started eating into the
time I had for writing the story itself. I presume from your
email that you'd rather I spend time writing and not
answering mail, so for now I will just say a big THANK
YOU! To all who have taken the time to write. Believe me I
appreciate it, and each note inspires me!

OK, enough legal and commercial stuff.

"That was my dad," Kenny announced as he came back into
the room after running to his parents' room to answer the
phone. "They're coming back in the morning. Dad says it's
gonna snow about eight inches tonight and another foot
tomorrow night, and he wants to be home before the driving
gets too bad. They're leaving as soon as it's daylight."
"What about your brother?" I asked dreamily.
"He's fine... just a touch of the flu or something. But Mom
had to check on him when she found out he wasn't feeling
well. You know how mothers are." Then he realized what
he'd said, and my current situation. "Oh, sorry Charlie, I
forgot..."
"It's ok," I said. Of course it wasn't ok, but what else could
I say? "And believe me," I said, "I do know how mothers
are. Mine wasn't always sick."

It was almost 2 AM, so Kenny crawled into bed and we
settled down for sleep. He said that he'd have to get up
early and clean the driveway so his dad could get the car in
when he got home. I said I'd help him, then I'd have to go
home and clean our drive. "But," he protested, "I wanted
you to meet my dad."
"Already did," I answered, "Remember he's my dad's
insurance agent."
"I know, but things are different now."
"Different? How are they different?"
"Charlie, we... you and I... well, I'm not sure what I'm
trying to say, but things are different."

I didn't know what Kenny was talking about, but I had an
idea and I wasn't too thrilled with what my mind was doing
as it processed the evening's activities. I knew that what
we'd done was pretty heavy stuff and I had enjoyed it more
than anything I'd ever done in my life. I knew that there was
far more significance in what we'd done than simple
physical pleasure. And I guess I knew at that point,
although it would be a long time before I could admit it to
myself, that I was gay. I wanted to do it again, but in my
mind I felt that I could never do it again, especially with
Kenny. I had come to love him intensely in the short time
I'd known him, and being a little over a year older than he, I
felt that I was making him into something he wasn't.

It wasn't long before I heard Kenny breathing slowly and
deeply, a sure sign that he was asleep. He seemed so
contented, so at peace with the world! I couldn't sleep, and
I couldn't touch Kenny's naked body. It seemed as though
he was made of fine china or something and if I touched him
he might break. Or perhaps I was afraid of waking him; but
I simply could not bring myself to touch him as badly as I
wanted to. So I lay there beside him and contemplated the
events that had brought us to this point in our relationship. I
started feeling guilty. In my mind I had maneuvered him into
bed, like the terrible demented fag I was.

In the morning we got up quickly and washed and dressed.
Kenny offered a pair of his longjohns, saying that it was
pretty cold out. I accepted gratefully, but there was no
erotic pleasure in wearing them. But they did feel nice and
warm, and they fit perfectly! "It's a new pair that's a little
big for me," he explained.

After bolting down a breakfast of toast and orange juice, we
went outside to tackle the driveway. "Wow!" he exclaimed,
"It musta snowed a foot last night!" It hadn't snowed quite
that much, but it had drifted in the driveway so that there
was over 14 inches of snow to be shoveled. "You can use
Dad's shovel," he instructed, "And I'll use mine."
"So you always clear the drive?" I asked, making
conversation. "That must be fun!" I said sarcastically.
"Yeah it is," he answered. "I love doing things like that with
my dad. It gives me a chance to talk to him... you know,
things that I can't talk to anyone else about." I reflected on
that comment and wracked my brain for something,
anything, that I could only talk to my dad about. I came up
blank.

"So tell me about your mom?" Kenny inquired as we
shoveled, "Is she getting better?"
"She's not going to get better," I answered, "She's dying!
She's got Multiple Sclerosis."
"Oh shit!" Kenny exclaimed, "Charlie, I'm real sorry."
"Yeah, thanks Kenny. Seems like the only one who won't
be sorry is my dad."
"Charlie," Kenny said as he dropped his shovel, "That's a
terrible thing to say! Your dad..."
"My dad wants her out of the way!" I shouted, "Is that so
hard to understand?"
"But... But she's his wife!"
"Yup, and there's the problem. He's got a new girlfriend
now and Mom is just in the way. They even moved her into
a nursing home so my dad's girl friend could move in with
us. Now she acts like she owns the fuckin' place."

I was getting quite emotional, so I asked Kenny if we could
drop the subject. He agreed that was probably a good idea.
We shoveled the rest of the driveway in silence, then I told
Kenny I had to go. "Will I see you later today?" he asked.
"I dunno Kenny, but probably not because it's gonna snow
again tonight. And tomorrow I'm gonna be tied up between
going to Church and doing the rest of my homework." And
at that we said good-bye and I left for home.

It took over an hour to walk home. The walking was hard
through all the snow, but that was ok with me because I
wanted to take my time anyway. My mind was whizzing
again, recounting the events of last evening and this
morning. Had I victimized Kenny? In my mind I had
engineered the whole situation, and although I hadn't
planned on all that had happened, I still wondered if I'd got
Kenny into something he really didn't want to get into. And
then there was the whole issue of the bigger picture: that I
would not have done what I did if I weren't queer. That
thought hit me like a bold of lightening, and I started
thinking of myself as some pervert who preyed on boys,
luring them to this or that hideaway and then abusing them.

I wondered how Kenny felt. Did he know how badly I had
seduced him? He had to know now that I was a hopeless
faggot. It never occurred to me that I hadn't done anything
to him that he didn't also done to me. I wanted so much to
be his friend, to be close to him, and now all that was gone
because of my lust for him. I wanted to die! I wanted to be
normal, whatever that word meant. In less than twenty-four
hours I had changed my whole life, and screwed up any
chances of ever being a part of Kenny's life - the one person
in the world I wanted to be close to!

"Where the hell have you been?" Dad demanded when I
walked in the door at around 11 AM.
"I stayed overnight with a friend because of the snow," I
answered. Well, it was half true anyway, "Then I stayed this
morning to help him clear their driveway."
Wrong thing to say!
"Well I guess that means you're all warmed up for ours, so
get busy!" I knew better than to argue, and I really didn't
feel like it anyway. As I was headed out the door, Ellen, my
dad's girlfriend asked "Why didn't you call?"
"I did," I lied, "But there was no answer."
"We were here all evening but there were no calls," she
returned.
"I dunno," I shrugged, "Maybe because of the storm."
"Well," Dad said, "You're here now, so get a move on
because I have to go out right after lunch."

Clearing the snow this particular day didn't seem half bad to
me. It gave me the solitude I craved, allowed me to think.
Yes, the physical part of what I had done was totally
awesome! But the long term effects, the harm I had done to
a good friend, the lifelong effects on both of us, were quite
another thing. I wanted to drop my shovel and run to
Kenny's house, to hug him and tell him I was sorry, but I
couldn't! Not now, not ever! Besides, he would probably
think it was just another ploy by me to get into his pants
again. And frankly, I wasn't sure myself that that wasn't the
case. So I began making plans for the rest of my life, at least
the next two years, that didn't include Kenny, and
consequently neither Ron nor Timmy either. I knew that
once they heard about what I'd done they wouldn't want
anything to do with me either.

By the time I'd finished the driveway I was soaked from
sweat. I went upstairs to change my clothes, which was
when I realized that I was still wearing Kenny's underwear.
The thought that it was his, not mine, and that he'd had his
body in it, even if only to try it on, got me so hard I was
literally in pain! And then I thought of returning it to him,
only to remember that I could never get that close to him
again, and that thought finally started the tears. I flopped
down on the bed, still wearing the underwear, and sobbed.
It seemed to me that everything I tried to do, every thought,
reminded me of some aspect of my idol. I had to have him,
but I couldn't! I had to be close to him to survive, but that
was impossible! So I did the only thing I could think of, the
same thing I'd always done since I was born: I went to see
my mom.

Of course Mom wasn't much help, through no fault of her
own. She was pretty well bed-ridden now, but her mind was
still as sharp as ever. "Charlie," she inquired, "Is something
wrong? You seem kinda down in the dumps."
"Not really," I answered evasively, "I just miss you." Miss
her! Oh man how I missed her! She would understand! She
would know what to do. But I couldn't lay all this on her,
with her lying in bed not knowing how much longer she
would even be alive. I ached to tell her all, but I didn't. In
all we had a pretty good visit, and I stayed long after
visiting hours. The lady who ran the place, a Registered
Nurse who had converted a large old house, had taken a
liking to me, so knowing how much it brightened my mom's
day when I came, she waived the rules as long as Mom
didn't get too tired. Today I got the impression that she
sensed something was wrong. Then the shocking revelation
hit me that maybe she could tell what was on my mind just
by looking at me. And of course if she could tell, so possibly
could everyone else!

"Are you going to church tomorrow?" Mom asked, "I hear
there's another snowstorm coming." Mom had always taken
me to church when she was well, and it had become at
natural to me as breathing.
"I'm planning to go," I answered, "I'm supposed to sing a
solo."
"I wish I could be there," she said wistfully. "I have never
heard you sing since your voice changed, but I can tell from
the way you speak that you must have a beautiful baritone
voice." There it was! Yet another sexual reference: "Since
your voice changed!" Puberty! In my case the worst curse
that I had ever endured! But it still gave me a warm feeling
knowing that she was so proud of me. Of course she was
the reason I could sing at all. As with just about everything
else I could do, I'd been taught by my mom. Even at 14 I
couldn't help thinking that she had given me a great start in
life. I also knew that she would have got me through my
current crisis if she could, but now it was time for me to
grow up and take care of her, which of course amounted to
little more than visiting as often as I could, which was no
chore at all for me.

Before either of us was ready, it was time to leave. It was
almost 9 PM and the snow had started falling again. So I
kissed my mom and promised her I'd get back when I
could, and I walked out into the snow.

That night as I lay in bed, the wind and snow howling
outside, I did something I'd never done before in my life: I
masturbated until I had an orgasm. I don't know why, but
I'm certain it wasn't simply because I was horny. Kenny had
told me about it,  saying somewhat self-consciously that
he'd done it two or three times. Perhaps I was just curious
what it was like, perhaps a form of rebellion. I really don't
know, only that the entire time I was stroking myself I could
not get my mind off Kenny. His beautiful body, that dark,
soft yet firm skin, the way he responded to every touch of
my hand. I still had no earthly idea what was going on in my
head, or my heart or body for that matter; but I knew
without a doubt that Kenny was an absolutely necessary
part of my very existence! And now he was gone, and it was
my fault. So what reason was there for me to go on? As I
experienced a bone shattering orgasm, spraying my stomach
and chest, I remembered the orgasm that Kenny had had in
my mouth. I could almost taste it, yet it seemed a million
miles away. I longed for the taste of his body, the essence of
his most ultimate climax. I thought of wiping my own jism
with my finger from where it had landed on my body and
putting it in my mouth, but that held no attraction for me. It
wasn't sex I wanted, nor the taste of its products; it was
Kenny. With or without sex, it didn't matter. So instead I
lay on my bed and cried.

The church service was about what you might expect. The
Junior Choir was singing, and I had to sing a solo. I'd been
singing since I was about 5 years old: first my sister and I
sang duets, then I sang solos. Now that my sister had left
home to get married I was called upon quite often to sing,
and I absolutely loved it! I had even had a few organ lessons
on the huge pipe organ, after having had a good grounding
from my mom on the piano. I'd gotten up early and
shoveled the new snow from the driveway... it hadn't been
as heavy a storm as predicted, but still there was enough
there for me to work up a good sweat, then a bath and clean
clothes before church, and I felt really great and ready for
the world.

For the first part of the service I had completely relaxed and
forgotten my problems, enjoying the music, the
surroundings, the peace. And then the minister got up to
preach, and it took only a very few minutes for me to
realize, so I thought, that he was talking directly to me! The
topic was morality, and the preacher began talking about
promiscuity and all the evils that it propagated. I was
already feeling somewhat guilty, but then he started on
homosexuality. He got more and more excited as he ranted
on and on about how such people are possessed by the devil
himself, and how they lure others to their sinful, demented
lifestyle.  I was sitting in the choir loft behind the preacher
looking out at the congregation, thinking that everyone in
the entire church was looking directly at me! What in the
world was I doing here anyway? All dressed in a holy choir
robe, singing the praises of Almighty God... the very same
God I had blasphemed horribly less than two days ago.

After the church service, I got rid of my choir robe as
quickly as I could and tried to run out the back door, but
the minister caught me before I could escape. "We enjoyed
your solo," he said as he grasped my shoulder, "Your
mother has done a wonderful job teaching you to sing to the
glory of God."
"Thanks, Mr. Pike," I managed to answer. I wanted to be a
tiny bug and crawl into a crack in the floor, but Mr. Pike
would not give it up. "How's your mother?" he asked.
"Not very good," I replied, "She gets pretty lonely, and I
can't get out to see her as much as I'd like to."
"Get to see her? Isn't she at home?"
"No, sir. My dad said she'd be better off in a nursing home,
so she's there now. I thought you knew." In fact I KNEW
he knew because I had called and told him myself. Now it
came more clear to me... I had been quite upset and crying,
and the good preacher's comfort had been a few well placed
words and then a dismissal, saying he had a wedding
rehearsal to attend.

The revelation that Mom was in a nursing home seemed to
work better than my best efforts to get rid of the preacher
and get out of there. His attitude seemed to change
drastically, he gave me another pat on the back and made
some comment about my singing for Jesus, and then I was
dismissed. I thought it strange, but what did I, a kid, know?
And besides, all I wanted at that moment was to get gone
before he had a chance to make the accusations personally
he'd made in the pulpit! And that I did.

I didn't have a lot of luck doing homework the rest of the
day. First there was more snow to shovel, then I went to my
room and closed the door, and fell fast asleep. By the time I
woke up it was after 10, so I just got dressed and crawled
under the covers and went back to sleep.

School Monday morning was, to say the least, interesting. I
had decided that the best way to get over my obsession with
Kenny was to completely avoid him. Believe me it wasn't
easy, but I managed. We had a pop math quiz in second
period which I totally screwed up.... Nice going, Charlie!
And you want to be an engineer? The rest of the day was
pretty normal and without incident. I didn't see Ron, Timmy
or Kenny until last period: History. I determined to be out
of the room and gone before Kenny came bounding in, and
managed to pull it off only to run headlong into Ron in the
hallway. "You coming over?" he asked.
"Not tonight," I said, "I've got some things I've gotta do at
home." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. I had decided on the
spur of the moment to see if I could find a job working after
school, knowing my visits to Ron's house were over if I
were to avoid Kenny. And I didn't want to make him feel
awkward, so I needed something else to occupy my time.
And of course the money would come in handy.

By the time I got home Ellen had two phone messages for
me: one from Ron and one from Kenny. I'd had no luck
finding a job... I'd discovered that very few people would
hire a fourteen year old with so many 16- and 17-year-old's
available. My selling skills were abysmal, and that included
selling myself. Of course in my mind the reasons for my
failure were purely because I was queer and everyone knew
it. I didn't return the calls, but just went to my room, did my
homework as best I could, then went to bed.

I started playing the piano more than I had in almost two
years. I'd been getting quite good before my mom had to
give up teaching me, but by that time I'd had enough of the
basics so that I could go on from there by myself. It wasn't
ideal, but it worked for me, and it kept me occupied when I
was home alone. I kept telling myself that I was getting over
my infatuation with Kenny, but in reality it was getting more
intense. Not only was I no longer communicating with him,
I wasn't even seeing him any more. The few times I did get
a glimpse of him at school I beat a hasty retreat before he
saw me, or so I thought. But I had to know it couldn't last
forever, and sure enough about two weeks later, as I was
trying to learn a new piece of music, the phone rang.
Without thinking I answered it, only to hear that voice I
loved so much.

"Charlie?" Kenny said shakily, "Where in the world have
you been? I've been looking for you everywhere! When I
get back to home room you're always gone!"
"Yeah," I said vaguely, "I've been pretty busy lately."
"Too busy to go to Ron's lab? Man, you must be busy!
What have you been doing?"
"Oh, you know, this and that. I've been working on the
piano quite hard, and spending quite a bit of time with my
mom." Well, they were both true, even if the intentions
weren't as honorable as they sounded.
"Yeah, I've been thinking of her. How's she doing?"
"About the same I guess. She certainly isn't getting any
better."
"Well, I just wanted to call and see how you're doing. We
talk about you all the time." Yeah, I thought, I'll just bet
you do. After we'd hung up I thought I'd really been a
bastard to Kenny after he'd taken the trouble to call, but I
was so mired in my own guilt and self pity I was able to put
it on him. So I went to bed and had a good cry. Again.

Christmas was coming fast, and with it a new dilemma. Ron
and I had been in the habit of exchanging gifts, but what
was I going to do this year? There were Timmy and Kenny
in our group now, and I could hardly give one a gift and not
the other two. And besides, would he even want to
exchange gifts with a faggot? But before I had solved that
one I had a face to face confrontation with Ron.

"Charlie," Ron said after practically tackling me in the hall
one day after school, "What the heck is going on with you?"
"Going on?" I evaded, "What makes you think something is
going on?"
"Come on, Charlie! We've been best friends for a long time.
We've been through some pretty rough times together and I
know you. What's happened?"
"Nothing, Ron. And for the record, you don't know me
nearly as well as you think you do."
"I know more than you think I do, Charlie." he said in the
tone of voice he often used when he wanted to make a
serious point.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I flared. I could feel my
face flush and my fists clench.
"It just means that I know something's really eating at you.
When that happens you go off by yourself and don't talk to
anyone. I know why you do that, but you're gonna explode
if you don't talk to someone, so how about it?"
"Nothing's wrong, Ron. But thanks for asking... I gotta
go." And with that I left him standing there, his mouth
hanging open as he watched me practically run down the
hall and out the door.

Christmas came as usual before I was ready. I can't say that
I was expecting it to be the best Christmas I'd ever had,
with my mom not there, my sister somewhere in the
northwest of Canada and newly married, leaving my dad, his
girlfriend, and me! They'd started having quite a few
parties, and of course Christmas is a time for parties
anyway. I was pretty well excluded from these activities,
which was fine with me, except of course for the times
when I was called upon to play the piano for the drunken
bunch to sing Christmas carols. In my mind I was a
performing bear: brought out to do my tricks, playing the
piano, then put back in my cage. That was probably a little
unfair, but I couldn't help the way I felt. If I'd known then
what I know now I would have realized that I was very
depressed; but I'd never heard of such things, I only knew
that life wasn't a particularly pleasant experience right now.
The important thing to me was that I had managed to avoid
confrontation with any of my friends for several weeks, and
I was starting to relax just a bit.

It was Christmas Eve when my life took another abrupt
change. I had been to see my mom in the afternoon, had
come home about 7 PM and was in my room, doing nothing
special but lying on my bed and feeling sorry for myself. As
usual we had company downstairs. I heard the doorbell in
the distance, then the voices of my dad talking with some
other man. Next thing I knew my dad opened my door and
said "There's someone here for you Charlie. He needs to
talk to you."
"Who is it?" I asked blankly.
"It doesn't matter who it is, he wants to see you so get your
tail down there!" I knew by his tone that I'd be well advised
not to challenge him, so I got up and stumbled sleepily
down the stairs. At first I didn't recognize the man, then I
found myself staring into the same deep brown eyes I'd
loved so much. I was looking directly into the face of Bob
Collins, Kenny's father!

"Hi Charlie," he said cheerfully, "Sorry to bother you,
especially tonight, but we're having a little get-together, and
the one who was coming to play the piano couldn't make it
at the last minute. I was hoping you could come and play
for us for a while. Kenny says you're a really good pianist."
"I... well...." I stammered, "I play some but..."
"Please come, Charlie," he pleaded, "Kenny's been really
worried about you. He said Christmas just wouldn't be the
same not knowing if you're all right."
"Of course he'll come!" My dad said in a way that sounded
threatening to me. So I busied myself cleaning up a little,
put on my coat and boots, and joined Mr. Collins in the car.
There wasn't much conversation on the drive to the Collins
house. Mr. Collins made some small talk, but nothing of any
substance, except for one thing he said just as I was getting
out of the car: "It's none of my business, Charlie, but I
thought you should know that Kenny feels terrible about
whatever it is he did to you. He's been trying to apologize
for weeks, but he never sees you. He just doesn't know
what it is he's done. You'd be doing me a big favor if you'd
talk to him about it."

I ignored the comment and walked up to the back door. If
I'd been thinking clearly I would have smelled a rat. I mean,
how many people go running around on Christmas Eve
looking for someone to play the piano? And of course I
assumed that the "gathering" would be some of the Collins'
friends, and if my own situation was any indication, Kenny
would be in his room or out somewhere. Stupid I know, but
that was my assumption.

Just as I was reaching to knock on the door, it opened and
Mrs. Collins appeared. "Why hello, Charlie!" she said
cheerfully, "Come on in, we've been waiting for you." I
stepped into the kitchen and was greeted by all the
wonderful smells that used to emanate in our house when
my mom was at home. That didn't do anything for my
already depressed mood. "Go ahead into the living room,"
Mrs. Collins directed, "They're all in there." I was quite
surprised that both Kenny's parents were so nice to me, but
then I presumed that Kenny had probably not told them
what I'd done to him. I certainly would not have told my
dad. So I walked towards the living room and as I stood in
the doorway I almost died of shock.

The first person I saw was obviously Robbie, Kenny's
brother. He looked like a larger clone of Kenny himself.
Man, they could have been twins! He had the same dark
skin, black hair, and gorgeous brown eyes. Even his facial
expression reminded me of Kenny! Looking past him I saw
Ron, Timmy, and... and Kenny himself! Now I was getting
nervous! Had I been set up? Why in the world had they
brought me here? My heart was pounding so hard I knew
they must hear it. As I stood there trying to get my breath, I
was vaguely aware of Kenny making his way toward me.
When he was right in front of me, his face only inches from
mine, he spoke. "Thanks for coming, Charlie," he said, "I
was so afraid that you wouldn't."  There were tears in his
eyes, and those eyes! The deep brown eyes that were a
window to Kenny's soul were working overtime tonight.
And then just as I was getting my bearings and my breath
back, Kenny's arms went around my shoulders, and his lips
met mine in a deep, passionate kiss! I tried to pull away, to
tell him that everyone was watching, but he would have
none of it. It's all over now, I thought, I'm gonna die
tonight! They've brought me here to humiliate me and who
knows what else! So I decided to enjoy my last night on
earth, and returned the kiss.

"Now I can enjoy Christmas!" Kenny exclaimed as he broke
the kiss, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thanks Dad, I owe
you one."
"I.... er..." I stammered, trying to find words to explain
what had just happened. "It's all right, Charlie," Kenny said
so softly it was almost a whisper, "They know. They all
know and it's ok."
"They know?" I echoed, "Know what?" I was still very
much in a state of denial and certainly not willing that my
friends, or those who had been my friends, know all the
sordid details of my "dark side."
"That you and Kenny are lovers," Mr. Collins said from
behind me. Then everyone was talking at once. "I had a talk
with my dad about a week ago," Kenny explained, "I was so
confused about my feelings and what we'd done, and why
you were avoiding me like the plague."
"Then he talked to all of us," Ron added.
"He explained it all, that sometimes when you fall in love it
isn't with the opposite sex."
"Robbie helped a lot when he got home from college,"
Kenny continued, "He knew a gay couple at school and had
learned a lot about such things."

"Gay?" I questioned, not knowing what else to say and
having no idea what being happy had to do with any of this.
"It's a new word to describe homosexuals," Robbie
explained, "It was some sort of a code word in England so
I'm told, and is starting to spread around the world."
"So you're saying..." I said haltingly, "That we're... uh...
that you think Kenny and I are... are... uh..."
"Gay!" Kenny finished the word for me. "I know we are,
Charlie!" I could not believe that he actually said the word,
and to describe himself! "Dad's gonna talk to you later if
that's ok, but tonight all you need to know is that we've all
talked about it and it's ok. We know why you've been
avoiding us, and we all love you. Especially me!" That last
remark was punctuated by another deep, long embrace and
kiss, this time much more readily returned by me.

It was my turn to produce some tears now, as I realized that
the thing I'd always thought to be totally impossible had
come true! And in the bargain I'd been spared the burden of
having to deal with the fact that I was probably gay. It had
been done for me! The feeling of having things out in the
open, of being able to express my love for Kenny publicly,
at least in this small group, was indescribable! "It's the least
we can do for you both," Mr. Collins explained, "You're
going to have enough problems going through life gay, you
certainly don't need problems at home!"

Mt. Collins went on to explain that he had suspected Kenny
was gay for quite some time. In answer to my unspoken
question he said that he was not, but that he'd been accused
of it all his life because he'd always been quite effeminate.
So those accusations prompted him to do a lot of research
into the subject. He had scoured libraries, consulted with
several psychologists, and even spoken to every gay man he
could find. When Robbie came home for the Holidays he
had added a whole new insight to the situation, and they had
both shared what they knew with the boys. Robbie added
that my reaction to my first experience was not all that
uncommon, especially with no one to talk with about it.

"We agreed we wouldn't exchange gifts because you'd be
embarrassed," Kenny said as he produced a small wrapped
box, "But I couldn't resist, Charlie. Merry Christmas!" I
took the box and tore it open. Inside was a silver man's
identification bracelet, engraved on the outside with the
word "Charlie," and on the inside with two hearts
intertwined, one engraved with my initials, the other with
Kenny's. Now the tears really did flow!

Well, I did play the piano for them that night, and I must say
it was the best I'd ever played! I wowed everyone, including
myself! We played and sang, loved and lived, until past
midnight. The entire evening Kenny was either standing
behind me with his arms draped on my shoulders, or he was
sitting beside me. It was totally awesome, being constantly
touched by someone you love. I would have liked to go to
bed with Kenny when the time came, but of course it was
Christmas and I was expected home, for what reason I
really don't know. So when we decided to call it a night Mr.
Collins drove us all home, dropping me off last. "Thanks for
coming, Charlie," he said warmly, "We'll be getting
together for that talk real soon. Until then keep your chin
up, you've got some pretty great friends there."
"Yeah," I said sheepishly, "I know that now." He gave me
one of the warmest father/son hugs I'd had in a long time,
then I was out of the car and he was gone.

Everyone was in bed when I got into the house, but that
was ok. I had to do a lot of thinking before I faced my dad,
so I didn't mind being alone. I'd had a pretty great evening,
and Kenny and I were facing two whole weeks out of
school. We had snatched a few moments earlier to plan
vaguely on spending a lot of that time together, but this
section is getting pretty long so I guess that story will have
to wait.

Part 4 will be along soon. I am really enjoying digging up all
those memories, re-living them in many ways. If you like
this story or have any comments, please e-mail them to
charlieje@mindspring.com