Date: Wed, 11 Jun 2003 18:17:12 -0400 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: Of Our Teenaged Years - Chapter 8 - Gay Y/F Copyright 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? Of Our Teenage Years Chapter 14 Added 6/05 Article: My New Swimsuit's Too Small Added 6/03 KOA Boy Chapter 7 Added 6/01 Calvin: Identity Crisis Chapter 13 Added 5/25 Mentoring Brandon Chapter 10 Added 5/24 Labor of Love Added 5/21 The Innocents Part 4: Paulo and Beto By Richard Dean Chapter 8 Added 5/18 Private Lessons Chapter 6 Added 5/12 Stephen Miller's Journal Chapter 12 Added 4/13 Raptors By Richard Dean Chapter 7 Added 4/13 Age Before Beauty Chapter 4 Added 4/08 In Memory of Steve: Chapter 9 Added 2/13 Short Story: Ambrosius Added 1/29 Short Story: Blair Manor Added 1/29 ************************************************************************ Of Our Teenage Years By Tom Cup Chapter 8 Summer's End Mr. Scott was an ex-marine and the school's athletic director and disciplinarian. His buzzed haircut, steely blue eyes and flat-line emotionless mouth had in the past given me the sense that he was judging me for some crime that I was yet to commit. As his eyes followed Sam and me down the hall on the first day of school, I felt I was a condemned prisoner walking his last mile and Mr. Scott was the executioner. The halls were filled with kids, some chatting with laughter; others with backs against the walls, eying passersby -- I noticed Chad, Spenser and Robert huddled together in one corner. Chad made sure that the other two boys noticed Sam and me. Most of the teachers stood in their doorways scolding at the sea of adolescents before them. We were all awaiting the first bell that signaled we should gather in the auditorium for orientation and final class assignments. The night before I had finally told Sam of my misgivings concerning returning to school. The subject came up near the end of the Labor Day party when George asked if the "assholes at the pool" had given me any more trouble. "Uh, no," I replied, uneasily looking from George to Sam. "Well they better not," George replied, as he moved away and found a seat beside Doug who was sitting at the picnic table with Sharon. "What's that all about?" Sam asked. "Oh, um..." The conversation ended when Dad called us to attention. He had an announcement to make. Mr. Jensen stood with Dad in front of the gathering. Mom, Mrs. Swanson, and Mrs. Jensen stood behind us, holding hands and chatting in whispers, on the patio just outside of the sliding glass doors. "I'll tell you later," I whispered. Dad asked Sharon and Doug to join him and Mr. Jensen. Sam and I sat beside George, with me seated in the middle. Sam held my hand under the table. George laid his arm over my shoulder. I stared at him in disbelief and then at Sam. Sam shrugged and smiled. I looked again at George and he winked me a smile. "It's good to spend time with friends and family this Labor Day weekend," Dad said, scanning the group and then laughing, "I guess we are all more family than friends. Aren't we?" Dad's eyes focused on the women in the back, and then they met mine. "Well," he continued, "Time passes so quickly. Doesn't it? Our children are growing up, making their own choices as to where their lives will lead them. This house has seen many terrific summers, many terrific summers. But what summer could be better than the summer that sees your children finding love? I am so proud of all of you. I really mean that. It's a brave new world we all face. I'm thankful to see that you will not have to face it alone. Doug has asked Sharon to be his wife and she has agreed. In June of next year, my daughter will become a wife." Dad raised his glass in a toast. We all followed. The women in the back were sharing tears of joy. George squeezed my shoulder. Sam squeezed my hand. Dad's eyes locked with mine and he smiled and then nodded. ************ "So what was all that about with you and George?" Sam asked as we sat on the stoop in front of his house. After the Jensen's headed for home, Mrs. Swanson had lingered talking with Mom and Sharon. They were happily discussing the wedding arrangements. Dad retired to the den for a pipe and the evening news. Sam and I walked slowly down to his house, knowing that the end of the night signaled the end of summer. "Well there was a fight at the pool," I said, "George got into it with Chad." After rehashing the events of that day, Sam said, "Jesus Gerald, I can't leave you alone for a moment without you getting yourself into trouble." "I didn't do anything," I whined. Sam laughed. "Except tell the whole town that we're queer." "I never said that. They only know I'm queer. Nobody knows about you." "Your family knows. My family knows. The Jensen's know." "Yeah but that's different. They wouldn't tell anyone." "Oh," Sam said, "I see. So I am supposed to go to school tomorrow and pretend that nothing happened this summer." "You could if you wanted," I said, "I wouldn't be pissed or anything." "Jesus Gerald!" Sam said, standing and pacing down the side walk and back again, "Everybody gets this but you. I love you, OK! Really love you. Don't you know that I've thought about this, about how it's going to be at school when they find out I'm queer? Don't you know that my Dad has told me that shit a hundred times? I've made up my mind. If you want to be my boyfriend then fine. If you're scared then I'll understand!" "Don't yell at me!" I said standing, "I just said that I'd understand if you didn't want people to know!" "I know what you're saying and it's the same shit my Dad has been saying. Just pretend it ain't so. No! I won't! You can pretend if you want but I sure as hell ain't!" "Neither am I!" I screamed. "You boys all right?" Mrs. Swanson asked. We hadn't seen her coming down the sidewalk. Sam and I stared at her, took deep breaths, and then lowered our eyes to our feet. "We're fine Mom," Sam said, "just a lover's quarrel." Mrs. Swanson laughed. "Well," she said, "If you two are worried about people knowing about you, you can stop. I'm sure the whole neighborhood knows now." She shook her head, smiling, and entered the house. "I'm sorry," I said to Sam. "Sorry for what?" Sam asked. "I don't know Sam. Come on, don't make this hard on me." "It will be hard Gerald. And I have to know if you're going to be ashamed to be seen with me at school tomorrow. I need to know. That's all." "I'm not going to be ashamed," I said, "I just don't know what going to happen, is all." "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." ************ My greatest fear became a reality as I looked at my class assignments: first period gym. I groaned out loud. Why couldn't it have been math, English, Social Studies, drama, home economics, study hall or anything else besides gym? I hated calisthenics. I hated basketball, field hockey, football and most of all bombardment. I hated getting sweaty first thing in the morning after getting up, showering and getting dressed for school. I hated the thought of showers with boys that would taunt me to look because they knew I was gay and wanted something more to tease me about. I could already hear the snickering, "Told you he was queer. He looked." "What ya got?" Sam asked, taking my assignment sheet from me. "First period gym," I moaned. "Shit, we don't have one class together." I felt like I was going to vomit. "Take it easy Gerald," Sam said, "We both have second lunch. We'll see each other then." It was some comfort to know that Sam and I would have the same lunch period together. But that comfort was quickly removed by the appearance of Chad, Spenser and Robert. They came snaking through the crowd towards Sam and me. As they passed Chad stopped to bow and said, "Ladies." I groaned. Sam replied, "Assholes." Chad, Spenser and Robert laughed. School had begun. ************ If there was a redeeming factor to the first day of school it was that it was a half-day. After orientation, review of class schedules, issuing of textbooks and locker assignments, we were released to recover from the sheer shock of being in school again. Sam and I had agreed to meet by the flagpole. We had planned to walk home together instead of taking the bus but we were surprised to see Mr. Jensen leaning against his car, and waving us over, as we came to our meeting spot. "Get in," he said, as we drew near to the car, "Both of you." We were driven to Palmer Lake. I hadn't been to the spot since Sam and I were ten. We followed Mr. Swanson, down a narrow path, overgrown and shaded with elm, maple and oak trees, to the exact spot where we had camped five years previous. Mr. Swanson knelt at the waters edge, picked up a stone, and skipped it across the water. I remembered then that it was at that spot that Mr. Swanson had taught Sam and I how to skip stones on the water. It was also where Mr. Swanson had taught me how to swim. "I hope you two know what you're doing," Mr. Swanson said, his back to us, "Do you know the whole damn town is talking about you two?" Sam and I stared at each other. Mr. Swanson turned to face us. "I tried to warn you," he said, "I tried to protect you from this nonsense but you two are determined to carry on like fools!" "It's not nonsense," Sam said, "It's who we are." "Who you are!" Mr. Swanson yelled stepping forward and grabbing Sam by his shoulders and shaking him, "Who you are? You don't know who the hell you are!" I had been frightened before, scared that people would dislike me because I was queer, scared that my family would lose the respect that it held in the community, scared that I would lose my friends, scared that Chad, Spenser or Robert might enact revenge for the fight at the pool but I had never been afraid that I would come to serious physical harm. Watching Mr. Swanson red faced, tight jawed, shaking of Sam caused panic to swell in my heart. Were we brought there to be killed? Was he that upset at us for being queer? Would we go missing for days, weeks, or months before our bloated and waterlogged bodies would be found? Would Mr. Swanson take revenge for the things that I had said to him at the Five and Dime? Dad wasn't there at the lake to help me if things got out of hand. If I yelled for help would anyone hear me? No. The lake was deserted. The world had turned away from the Norman Rockwell ideals of vacationing. Summer had ended the day before. "Get off of me!" Sam yelled as he pushed his father away. Mr. Swanson backed away shaking his head. "I only want to help you," he whispered. "No you don't," Sam said, "You want me to change, you want me to be something that I'm not." "I just want you to be happy." "That's crap! You don't give a shit about me being happy. You want to be happy and the only thing that will make you happy is if I'm not queer or if I'm not your son!" "That's not true Sam," Mr. Swanson said, "That's not true." "You're so full of shit," Sam said. We all stood silently staring first at each other, then at the ground around us, and finally out at the lake. "We had some good times here," Mr. Swanson said. "I want to go home," Sam said. Mr. Swanson nodded and led us back to the car. ************************************************************************ Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. 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