Date: Tue, 21 Jun 2016 16:03:33 +0200
From: Nick Brady <y2kslacker@mail.com>
Subject: Brian Goes to College - Part 16

Brian Goes to College – Chapter 16

This is the third part of a story about Marco, Marty and their adopted sons
Samuel, Benjamin and foster son Brian in Tulsa Oklahoma.

Part 1 is  http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/marco-in-the-park/
Part 2 is  http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/marco-marty-and-the-twins/

Please send feedback to y2kslacker@mail.com and support the Nifty archive
with contributions at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Copyright 2015-2016 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.

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It turned out to be a good ball game once Brian got around to watching
it. The Drillers won, 3 to 2. Louisa's friends were a nice bunch and Brian
enjoyed it a lot. They got hot dogs and cold soda, and had a good
old-fashioned evening at the ball park. They said their goodbyes and
started home.

"Well, how was it?" Louisa asked pointedly.

"It was a pretty good game," Brian replied, "we won."

"I mean, how did you like Lanny once you got to know him better?"

"I knew what you meant. I thought he was fine. I liked him really."

"You'll like him better the more you know him. He's that sort of person."

"I have to admit you're right. I found myself wanting to see him again."

"See, I told you so," Louisa smiled. "You just have to trust me about these
things."

"Maybe you're right. But I'm still a little unsure about asking him out. He
sure didn't give off any vibes. Not that my gaydar is all that good."

"Oh, Brian. Can't you just be friends with the guy?"

Brian thought for a minute, "Right. Why do I always see everything as
either or?"

"That's because you haven't learned to trust your own instincts. I don't
know what Lanny wants to do – neither do you. Just relax and be willing
to be friends with him. Lanny's not the sort of person to pounce on you."

Brian sighed. "I don't know why this is so hard for me. Where do I go from
here?"

"Listen, we get together all the time. They see you and I as a couple just
like they see Lanny and Melissa. How about if we get together at my house
next weekend and you can see him again?" Would you be comfortable with
that?"

"Sure, I guess so. Are you sure Melissa is OK with this? I mean, how does
she see Lanny?

"I know Melissa very well. I have known all these people for a long
time. She sees Lanny as a good friend but is aware that he isn't into a big
romance with her. She will be fine with you and him being better
friends. More than fine really. We have talked about this."

"I still feel like you and Melissa are trying to set us up."

"Well, what if we are? Lanny and Melissa are friends, not lovers. She knows
that Lanny is kind of lonely. She wants him to be happy just like I want
you to be happy. Don't be so cynical. That's what friends do for friends."

Brian shook his head. "I guess I'll just have to trust you Louisa. I've
never had friends like that."

"Well, you do now," Louisa smiled. "I'll call you, OK?"

She leaned over and gave Brian a kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry about
this. I have you covered." She smiled and jumped out of the car with a
little wave.

The now familiar routine of the week started to roll by. Brian picked
Gunder up for school, they went to lunch, then played some tennis and had a
quick swim before Brian dropped him off at his house and returned home. The
new wrinkle on the week was the assignment of a short story of about 500
words. It was to be fiction although might have some basis in fact.

Brian wrestled with the twins for a bit, ate dinner with the family then
retired to his room to think about what he might write. He could hardly
write about his travels as he had been to very few places outside of the
area he grew up in. Experiences from his childhood were largely depressing
and he didn't feel like sorting through that. A romance was out of the
question. What adventures had he had? Not many that he could recall. But
this was fiction, so the experiences did not have to be his own.

What did he know enough about to make the fantasy believable? Maybe some
experience from scouting. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine something
interesting. He relaxed and began to daydream.

He visualized himself and a friend hiking over a sparse hilly terrain. He
could see himself with shorts and backpack. His friend was a little
smaller, slender with dark brown hair. Handsome, but not in an ordinary
way.

They had been hiking for some time and were tired. He was the one with some
experience, and had led his friend out for a long hike. The friend was not
used to hiking and had stumbled several times but without complaint.

He could see the detail of the hillsides covered with sharp rocks and
sparse vegetation. It had started out fair and warm but a cool breeze was
beginning to blow harder, and dark clouds appeared to the west. It was
going to rain and he had lost his sense of direction. He felt ashamed, but
his friend trusted him and followed him doggedly. Brian would need to be
his savior if trouble came.

The wind began to blow hard and a flash of lightening appeared close by. He
could smell ozone and wet earth as heavy rain began to pour. A rush of fear
come over him as he looked around in all directions. His friend was not
afraid but smiled gently and followed on.

They came to a sharp drop in the terrain and looked down to see a cliff
face below them. Perhaps there was shelter there. The way down was steep
but not impassable. He found a series of footholds and they began to make
their way downwards. Now his friend showed some concern and followed
cautiously. He took his friend's hand and slowly they worked their way down
the rocks made slippery by the heavy rain. They found a narrow ledge that
cut back into the hillside and looked as if it might provide some shelter.

He eased his friend inside then turned to remove his pack. When he did so,
the pack shifted and threw him off balance. He could feel himself falling
backwards still holding his friend's hand. The grip tightened and his
backward momentum was briefly halted before his feet gave way and he fell
onto the narrow ledge, his hips and legs dangling over empty air. Still his
smaller friend held tight and threw himself back to prevent him from
falling.

His legs thrashed wildly, looking for some foothold. His friend braced
himself and pulled hard on the hand which connected them. He slowly worked
his way back onto the ledge and into the arms of his friend. They embraced
for a moment. He was thankful for his safety. His friend was relieved to
find him safe.

They lay side by side and looked out at the rain which now poured past
them, feeling the spray as it passed, but safe inside their narrow
space. He turned to see his friend's smiling face. "You saved me." he said
gratefully. His friend only smiled and still he gripped his hand.

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and the sky
lightened. Peering over the ledge a path appeared where none was seen
before. Still hand in hand they made their way down the steep incline to a
place of safety. The fallen pack was retrieved and they made their way
across a meadow now lit by sunlight. The savior had been saved.

Brian stretched and thought about his daydream, realizing that the friend
in the dream was Lanny. Could this be a story? He opened his laptop and
began to write, giving the characters names, introducing some casual dialog
between them and adding details to make a better image of the place. It
might be a little corny, Brian thought, but it might be worth a try. He
went through it several times then printed out two copies.

Leaning back, he wondered how it was that Lanny's image was so much in his
mind. Louisa was planning to have the little group of friends at her home
next weekend and Brian was eager to see him again. How did he feel about
Lanny? He wanted to be with him, to talk with him some more. Was he
attracted to him? Yes, but the attraction was not really sexual, although
he found him very nice to look at. It was more the anticipation of his
company, warm and friendly, yet reserved. Maybe Louisa knew more about what
Brian wanted than he did. Maybe she was right.

He slipped the papers in the pack he kept for school and went out to join
his family. The only real family he had ever known.

The next day he picked up Gunder and they went to class.

"Have you written a story for today?" Gunder asked.

"Yes, but I don't know if it will pass muster," Brian told him. "I've never
tried to write a story before."

"Oh, I have written many stories," Gunder said. "I think Dr. Brown will
like my story. I have a talent for such things."

Brian admired Gunder's confidence but felt little for himself. They handed
in their paper and were dismayed to find that their next assignment was to
write a poem. There was some discussion, and then they were dismissed.

The week went by and there was more tennis followed by a swim. His time
with Gunder was pleasant enough but the tension was gone. Brian was
relieved and thought ahead to Louisa's party.

When Saturday came he found himself excited at the prospect of being with
his friends. They really were his friends, he realized. A small group of
people that cared about each other, not in some romantic way, but casual
and accepting. That felt so good, so right. He dressed in jeans and a dark
blue T-shirt. Looking in the mirror, he liked the way he looked. Perhaps
his self-image was improving.

Louisa greeted him at the door, "Hey Brian, you look nice," she said.

"Thanks. You always look terrific."

"Come in, you're the last to arrive. I was afraid you weren't coming."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Brian smiled.

Inside were Keith and Francine, Lanny and Melissa, all lounging around the
living room engaged in friendly chatter. They looked up when he joined
them, greeting him warmly. Lanny saw him and smiled.

He found a seat and began to enjoy the company of these people. Louisa was
right, they were a nice group, and he felt a part of it. There were snacks
to nibble on and soft drinks on the bar. No one was drinking anything with
alcohol which Brian noticed with relief. If he had inherited nothing else
from his drunken parents, it was a distaste for all things alcoholic. He
joined the casual conversation and soon found himself sitting next to
Lanny.

"Hey, nice to see you again," Brian said.

"Nice to see you too," Lanny replied. "How was your week? Did you do any
writing for your composition class?"

Brian shrugged, "The assignment for this week was to write a short story. I
wrote one but I haven't turned it in yet. I'm afraid we are to do a poem
next."

"How did it go, I mean the story? Was it difficult or did it come fairly
easily?"

"It was sort of a daydream really. It reminded me of some sappy story out
of Boy's Life magazine. I may not get a good mark on it."

"It might not be as bad as you think," Lanny smiled, "sometimes we're our
own worst critic."

"We'll see I guess. You told me you like to write. What kind of thing do
you like to do?"

Lanny laughed, "I'm working on the great American novel, like most would-be
writers."

"I kind of struggled with this. How do you go about making up a story?"

Lanny leaned back thoughtfully. "I usually think about some situation that
I have experienced or read about, and then fictionalize the event. Sort of
let my mind wander and imagine what might have happened I suppose. It
depends on what sort of story I'm trying to come up with."

"Is it a struggle for you?"

"Sometimes it is, but sometimes it just pours itself out. I think the
important thing is to create interesting characters. Once those individuals
are clear in your mind, they almost tell the story for you."

Brian nodded, "Have you published anything?"

Lanny laughed, "No, just in the school journal. I haven't had to courage to
submit anything to a literary magazine or anything like that."

"Why not?"

"Fear of rejection I guess. If you read about established authors, they all
talk about the stack of rejection letters they got when they first
started. Maybe the key is to just be stubborn enough to keep after it."

"So are you going to keep after it? I mean, are you really serious about
being a writer?"

"I might be. The problem is that writing from my own experience is pretty
self-limiting. I don't have that many interesting experiences. That's why I
want to travel more, see more things, you know?"

"What about poetry? You said you have done that. Is that really different
than writing fiction or a story?"

"Well, yes it is. Poetry has so many forms, but I think what distinguishes
poetry from prose is its compactness. Poetry is more about choosing the
right words, and creating images in the mind of the reader. At least that's
my understanding. I don't really claim to be a poet," Lanny laughed."

Brian nodded, "That's interesting. To tell the truth, I'm finding this
writing class more interesting than I thought it would be. Not that I plan
to be a writer but I'm kind of enjoying it."

"You never know," Lanny said. "At this point in your life you have lots of
options, right?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Louisa interrupted, "You sound like
you're doing a writer's workshop over there."

Brian laughed, "Maybe we are. I need all the help I can get if I'm going to
get through my English comp class."

"Well you're talking to the right person then. Lanny has written some nice
things. You should see his poetry."

"I would like to. Do you have anything I could read?" Brian asked.

Lanny looked almost embarrassed, "Now Louisa, you know I'm not that good. I
just dabble at it."

"Could I see something you have written?" Brian repeated.

"Are you serious? I guess I could show you if you promise not to laugh."

"Only if it's supposed to be funny," Brian said.

"Well maybe, I might share some things. But you will have to do the same."

"But I've never written anything."

"What about the story you wrote for your class? Could you show me that?"

"I guess. But it's pretty dumb."

"Maybe, maybe not. Not many people create a masterpiece the first time
out. If nothing else it would be a good thing to keep to compare with the
things you write later, to see how your writing improves over time."

Brian laughed, "Is this an `I'll show you mine if you show me yours' kind
of thing?"

"OK, I guess we could do that," Lanny smiled. "I don't have anything with
me of course, but we could get together later if you really want."

"I would like that. What are you doing next week?" Brian asked.

"I have a summer job to save up money for my trip, but I'm free later in
the afternoon. How about we catch something to eat Monday night. We could
do it then. I mean if you're serious."

"Sure, I would like that. Where shall we meet?"

Lanny thought a moment. "How about the Village Inn on Harvard. It's usually
quiet there and they don't care if you sit and talk."

"OK, I'll see you there. About six?"

They had a plan.

The rest of the evening was spent in friendly chatter. There was no agenda
here, just the opportunity to enjoy each other's company – a very
congenial evening with friends.

After church Brian called Louisa and found that her family had other plans
for the afternoon – no tennis today. He decided to take a little drive
and drove south on Riverside until it became a country road that led him
down to the small town of Haskell. He drove through open farmland planted
with wheat and soy beans. Some was pasture land with cattle grazing. There
was a peacefulness about this bucolic scene that left him with a quiet
feeling. He looped around up to Muskogee then back to Tulsa. The weather
was good and he felt able to breathe better.

Once back home he found that Marco had taken the twins to the park to play
at tennis and Marty was taking a nap. It was quiet, so he went into his
room to think about his conversation with Lanny, and about the poem he was
to write. Images – Lanny said that poetry was about images. He laid back
and tried to let his mind free up, think about images. His mind wandered
over his afternoon drive and he began to write down whatever came to
mind. Then he remembered what Lanny had said about characters. Were there
characters in poems? Of course there were, but he didn't want to make a
long story about it. Maybe it would be best to use nice language but keep
it simple.

He pecked away at his laptop until he had several pages of scraps of
ideas. Then he read back through them and discarded what looked expendable,
tightening it up and trying to make it compact. Finally he thought he had
something that might pass for a poem, but it didn't rhyme at all. He tried
to think how to make it rhyme, then remembered Dr. Brown's brief discussion
of the various forms for poetry. Bending this into something fancy seemed
too complicated for him. Maybe this would pass for free-verse. He hoped
so. He tweaked it until he either finished it or just gave up, he wasn't
sure which, but he printed off two copies and slid them into his pack. This
would have to do.

Monday passed as usual although Gunder declined their usual tennis game,
saying he had other plans. Brian wondered if his new friends might be
willing to provide him with transportation in the future. Oh well, that was
not really a problem.  He came home early and worked with Sam and Ben on
some merit badge work. They would be leaving for scout camp soon and would
be that much closer to achieving Life Scout. He was proud of them for
staying with this.

He excused himself from dinner to go meet Lanny. He had not said much about
him to the family, preferring to keep that to himself for now. He wanted to
see where this new friendship was going. This was something of a new
experience and for now, rather private. For one thing, it was free of
anxiety and he felt no concern about it. He would talk to Marco later when
he was ready. He folded some papers and slipped them into his pocket.

He arrived at the Village Inn just at six and found Lanny waiting for him,
greeting him with a smile. He realized that this was the first time that
they would be alone together and he felt a sort of pleasant anticipation.

"Hi Lanny. You beat me here."

"I got here sooner than I expected and thought I would find us a booth."

They ordered sandwiches and began to talk.

"Did you bring something for me to look at?" Lanny asked.

"Well yes, a few things. I don't know what you will think of them."

Brian took the papers from his pocket and exchanged them with those of his
friend. "I guess it's the moment of truth."

They sat quietly and read. "Oh, this is kind of fun. I like your story,"
Lanny said.

"Just a minute. I am still reading yours," Brian told him, and read the
rest of Lanny's story.

It was about a boy who was growing marijuana in a shed behind his
house. His father discovered it and was angry, but the boy began to explain
how much money they could make from his project and the father began to
think it over.

"This is great. I wish I could write something like this," he told Lanny.

"Do you like it? It's pretty simple."

"Yes, but the people are so clear. I felt like they were real."

"Thanks, I like yours too. There is a lot of adventure in this, and you
made me see the barren terrain.  I like that the person who seemed like the
weaker of the two ended up being the stronger in a way."

"But the way it was written seemed clumsy when I looked it over. I wasn't
sure I should hand it in."

"No, it's OK. If this is a first attempt, it's really not bad at all."

"You think so?" Brian smiled.

"Yes, really. I think you will get a good grade on this unless the
professor is too picky. He might have some helpful suggestions for you."

"Do you? I mean, have helpful suggestions?"

"I'm not a critic," Lanny smiled. "I just know that I liked it. But what
about the poem?

"OK, let's read those now," and he looked at Lanny's poem and read it
aloud.

CYCLE

When summer's burning heat at last is over, and autumn rains again refresh
the earth.  There is a burst of life which like a nova hurls out the light
that precedes icy death.

The wind boils leaves in heaven's flashing cauldron an endless stream of
color swirls and falls, and reveals Seurat's dappled vision, a patchwork
quilt that flows and covers all.

That which spring began and summer nurtured, at autumn's end must safe be
stored inside.  With winter's cold the cycle's finally ended.  Tender life
digs deep, flies south, or dies.

At last comes winter's quiet time which brings all life's return in
resurrection spring.


"Wow, that sounds like Shakespeare," Brian exclaimed.

"Hardly, although it is supposed to be a sonnet," Lanny blushed.

"Sorry, but what's a sonnet?" Brian wondered.

Lanny laughed, "It one of a zillion different forms that poetry can
take. It has a particular number of lines and a certain rhyme scheme. Like
over and Nova, earth and death – well they are not exact rhymes although
some of them are, like fall and all. They have the same sounds in them
anyway," he shrugged, "It's not all that good, but I was kind of
experimenting."

"Well I like it a lot," Brian told him. "Maybe you shouldn't even read
mine."

"No, let's see what you have here," and he took a breath and read Brian's
attempt.

TOGETHER

Here in this field of ripened wheat I hold you close to me For as long as
breath will allow.

In this vast emptiness filled with life We are filled with love for each
other Floating here in this ocean.

Where warm wind moves in waves Across fecund heads of grain We start anew
our lives together.

Separated no more We are bound to each other Like root to ground, like seed
to earth.

Springing up to grow And blossom And bear fruit.

"Oh Brian, this is beautiful."

"Really?" Brian tried not to sound as surprised as he felt.

"Really. What is this about?"

"Well, I was driving past a wheat field and it just kind of came to me," he
tried to explain.

"Yes, the setting is very clear, but who are the lovers?"

"Um, nobody really, just two people I guess."

Lanny looked at him and smiled, "I think this is better than you think it
is. Certainly a fine first attempt. Are you sure you've never tried to
write poetry before?"

Brian laughed, "I promise, why?"

"Well you should keep at it. Have you read much poetry?"

"Just what we were assigned in high school English class. And Dr. Brown had
some things for us to read. My dad has a couple of anthologies. I did like
a lot of what I've read so far."

"You need to read more poetry. You should read William Stafford. This
almost reminds me of something of his. It has a deceptive simplicity about
it."

"Really? Come on, you're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I wouldn't do that. If it stunk I would probably say so. I can be
pretty blunt," Lanny admitted.

"Gee, thanks. Maybe I should take this a little more seriously."

Lanny laughed loudly enough to make a couple of people turn to see what was
so funny. "I think maybe you should. Do you have anything else?"

"No, that's about it, Brian smiled, "but I appreciate the encouragement."

Lanny leaned back and smiled, "I really like talking with you. I hope we
can be friends."

Brian returned his smile. "I think maybe we already are."

They turned their attention to the sandwiches which had been served but
ignored while they talked with each other. When they finished their meal,
they got up to leave and paid separately. As they walked outside, Lanny
said quietly, "I hope we can do this again Brian. I've really enjoyed
this."

"Me too, more than I can remember. Uh, do you play tennis?'

Lanny laughed, "No, why?"

"Oh, I just wondered. I play sometimes and I thought it would give us an
excuse to get together."

"Do we need an excuse to talk? If you get tired of talking maybe we could
take a walk together. That's my primary form of exercise."

"Sure, I would like that. Walking and talking sort of go together anyway."

"Yeah, I guess they do," Lanny paused, "like when?"

"I'm always out of class by four o'clock, where would you like to meet?"

"I like to walk on the Rivertrail. It's a nice place. Would you like to
meet there tomorrow at four-thirty? We could meet at 41st street. That's
not far from here and I'm free by then."

They stood awkwardly for a moment then shook hands. "So, I'll see you
tomorrow, Brian said.

Lanny smiled and nodded then they went their separate ways.

It wasn't late. Brian went home and sat on the sofa with Sam and Ben and
watched some mindless television. He excused himself after the news and
weather and went in to shower and go to bed. His mind was filled with
thoughts of his new friend Lanny.

Here was a real friend, one who shared some interests and treated him with
respect. While Brian was not thinking about sex, Lanny was a very nice
looking guy and Louisa's assurance that they were compatible ran through
his head. What if she was right? What if this was the guy he was hoping
for? He wasn't sure about that. Lanny had given no hint that he was
interested in anything more than friendship and good conversation. But
wasn't that the right way for a relationship to start? At least it seemed
right to Brian.

He felt at peace with himself and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


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To be continued.

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