Remembering

(Author's note: our illustrious host told me once if I finish a story, even if I'm unsure about it, I should post it. So we have this one which I have sat on for weeks while starting three others, one posted before this one, for its tone is not right, too dark. I cut a third off of it, started to rewrite it, but in the end I'm tossing it out here, which is not the best place for this one.  Grant)

Kenneth moved behind the podium and looked across the room. Along the front were the others who had been instrumental in getting to where they were today, this new facility they had come together for the ritual of a grand opening. The ribbon had been cut earlier and now everyone had gathered in the meeting room, one far too small for today’s gathering, more standing around the perimeter than sitting.

Across the room he saw the older faces of the volunteers and the board members, and interspersed amongst them were the faces of the young, some only thirteen or fourteen years old.

‘Too young and still far too many’ Kenneth thought as he looked across the room at those for whom the new Youth Center had been constructed. He knew they had come a long way since the days of his youth, but it still pained him to see how much was still to do. And it seemed they were suddenly fighting as much to hold the ground they had gained as they were in fighting for the rights and recognition most took for granted.

In front of him, sitting in the second row, Katie sat next to Ted, his partner of the last thirty-two years. She was fifteen, and had been at the center for a month now. He remembered the night he got the call at three in the morning, that another kid had shown up, kicked out by parents who could not abide having a child who was gay or lesbian.

‘This was the fucking twenty-first century and we still have to put up with this kind of stupidity’ Kenneth thought when he saw her sitting there, as he did every time another boy or girl showed up at the center. It pained him…and made him furious.

“Thank you everyone for coming out and all of your hard work. Without you we would not have this fine facility we are standing in today. The Youth Center is the culmination of years of hard work as it was bounced from one location to the next. You may not remember this, but the center began in the basement…” Kenneth began, and he struggled to stay focused on his notes with his emotions rolling up and down. The relief of having a permanent facility and the insane amount of effort it took to get here versus the sadness that such a facility is necessary.

He spoke briefly, not one for long speeches and as soon as he finished, the applause still strong, he moved from the podium letting Nancy take his place. Standing to the side he scanned the room quickly counting the number of youth that were present, those there for they had nowhere else to go. He heard Nancy’s voice but none of the words for he began to remember his own youth, the days when he was the age of so many in the room today.

The summer of sixty-seven came to mind, those long hot humid days in Monroeville, Alabama, a fifteen-year old, the youngest of three. He remembered how the soybeans grew tall in the fields, how Bobby, David and he went down to the creek to swim a few times a week then rode their bikes up to Greene’s, the small store out on the edge of town where pulpwood truck drivers  and local farmers frequently stopped for a soda and snack, and he remembered his awakening, the realization of being different and how it ultimately made him ostracized by those he had considered his best friends.

June 17, 1967

Pulling a t-shirt on as he went out the screen door, letting it slam shut, Kenneth stepped quickly down the concrete block steps, landing only on his toes, as he raced down them. He heard his mother yell at him for letting the screen door slam as he picked up his bike from where it lay in the yard.

“Okay” Kenneth replied, exasperated at constantly getting into trouble with his mother. He hopped on his bike, a two-year old Sears bike with a banana seat and high-rise handlebars he got from a cousin. Its gold paint scuffed and scratched and the tires beginning to be worn down and in need of replacing but it was his bike, only the second one his parents had been able to afford to buy for him.

On the bike, knees pumping up and down as he road down the dirt road toward the paved road that would take him to David’s house, he felt the hot humid air move over his bare arms and legs. He wore cut off jeans and a t-shirt that fit loosely on his skinny torso, his usual attire for the days of summer. His bare feet worked the pedals round and round keeping up an even pace even over the rough surface of the road.

On the paved road, its slag surface creating a vibration through his bike, Kenneth rode north, glancing back frequently. The traffic was light but what was there drove substantially faster than the forty-five-mph limit. It was four miles to David’s house and he knew by the time he got there, Bobby should be there, since he lived only a mile from David. He felt the heat of the sun on his arms and knees, felt the sweat trickle down his face, down his sides from underneath each arm and down his back. His hair, light brown, with bleached blonde streaks from the sun, lay wetly over his forehead.

Kenneth coasted across the yard and hopped off his bike, letting it drop by the red bike that belonged to Bobby. He moved up the steps onto the wide porch that span the front of David’s house. It was an old house, built long ago by David’s great-grandparents. David’s father and uncle were sitting in the straight back chairs on the porch smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, something his own mother would have strictly forbidden. Neither man looked his way, or acknowledged his presence as he went to the front door.

“…I tell you the country is going to hell. First they let them n_____ marry white women and now one of ‘em is nominated for the Supreme Court. Goddamn, I tell you…” Kenneth heard one of them saying as he went in, using that word his own mother frowned on, never saying it herself, and it made him conscious of it, the way it was used to denigrate them. All because they were different, their skin darker, their hair different, and he wondered what other differences would these men find intolerable. Something he had been thinking about a lot of late.

Bobby and David were in the kitchen sitting at the table, a soda and slice of pie in front of each of them. Kenneth moved into the room and took the chair next to Bobby.

“Hey Kenneth, you want a piece of pie and a coke?” asked David’s mother.

“Yes, mam” he replied watching Bobby fork another bite of the apple pie into his mouth, his own mouth suddenly watering with want.

“When we finish you want to ride over to the school and play some basketball?” asked David.

“Nah, let’s ride down to the trails” replied Bobby, his words muffled by the pie in his mouth.

“Yeah, lets ride the trails and then go swimming” Kenneth added, not wanting to go to the school where he knew some of the other boys would be playing basketball. They would want David and Bobby on a team, but he knew they would not want him. Too skinny, too slow, and not very good at shooting the ball, and the more they criticized him, the less he tried. And the bump and push of the game had its own demons, the way chests pressed against backs, arms reaching around, grabbing at the ball. It made him feel things he tried hard to suppress.

The trails were paths that formed over the years from boys in the community riding their bikes on them year after year keeping their surface well compacted, as they snaked through the woods down near Deer Creek. There were places the trail dropped nearly vertically into a gully, places where they crossed springs or jumped over a fallen log or had jumps just for the fun of it. The red clay was hard as concrete when dry making for a fast ride on their bikes.

Bobby, followed by David with Kenneth bringing up the rear cut off the road, down and back up out of the ditch onto the trail that began at the edge of the woods. They raced through the woods, taking one trail or another. David has the nicest bike, a road bike, which was the worst on the trails. Too big and heavy, the narrower road tires not suitable for the sections of loose dirt, so he struggled to keep up.  Bobby had a bike like Kenneth’s, an old Stingray, with high-rise handlebars and banana seat, its black paint faded to a dull flat tone and he rode it hard, his stronger legs working effortlessly.

Bobby was the first down to the creek and by the time Kenneth slid in next to him Bobby had his shirt off and tossed over the seat.

“Last one in is a pussy” Bobby yelled as he ran to the bank and jumped into the creek.

Kenneth had his t-shirt over his head working his arms free when David coasted into next to him.

‘Bastard is always first” uttered David as he dropped his bike and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

The creek was shallow in most sections but in this narrow section it was deep, so deep its clear waters still concealed the bottom from view. They swam the length of the section, dove down touching the bottom at times and they horsed around, ducking each other from behind. They played around in the creek until their arms and legs grew weary. Bobby moved up into the shallows sitting on the sandy bottom as the water cascaded around his butt and legs. David sat just below Bobby sitting in slightly deeper water, where only his head was above its surface. Kenneth leaned back, relaxed his whole body till he was floating at the surface, his toes, torso and face above the surface.

They were quiet for a minute, only the sound of a bird nearby breaking the silence around them. Then Bobby was sniggering, and Kenneth turned his head to see why.

“Damn David, are you touching yourself again?” asked Bobby as he leaned back on his elbows, laughing out loud.

“I’m not touching myself…asshole. Just shut up” replied David as he moved forward and swam a short-ways across the creek. Kenneth saw his expression, the guilty look and knew David probably had been touching himself again. David seemed to be doing it often, and Kenneth wondered what his cock would look like when it was hard. Was it like his own, curving upward, the head flared out? Did it have a vein that snaked along its length? Did David jack off a lot, like he did and what did David think about when he did so?

Kenneth looked up at the blue sky as he thought about David touching himself and he felt his own cock move within his shorts, felt it try to straighten out as it expanded. Suddenly aware of his growing erection he rolled in the water and dove down, embarrassed at how easily those thoughts came to mind.

When they finally climbed out of the creek Kenneth slipped his t-shirt back on as David and Bobby tucked their shirts into the back of their shorts. They were soon on their way, easing back the way they came, legs still feeling weak from their horsing around in the creek. David was in front leading the way with Bobby just behind him. Kenneth once again brought up the rear which allowed him the guilty pleasure of watching them. He looked at their lean torsos appearing more developed than himself. He felt a longing for something more, some desire he couldn’t name, not with any word that wasn’t a cruelty. He had heard those words, slung at one boy or another at school, some slur that connotated weakness or a weirdness that made one evil, wicked. Fairy. Queer.

But he felt what those words meant, the core nature of them. This attraction to another boy. And it scared him.

They rode back to Kenneth’s house, bikes tossed down on the ground as they settled down in his bedroom. Bobby lying over the bed and David sitting on the floor leaned back against the bed as they waited on Kenneth to get an album on the record player. They would listen to music while playing a few hands of cards. Kenneth reached into the second drawer of his nightstand retrieving a deck of cards which he handed to David. David was the best at shuffling and Kenneth and Bobby watched as he deftly manipulated the deck mixing the cards up, cut and shuffled some more till satisfied it was sufficiently mixed.

“Rummy or hearts?” asked David as he sat up to deal the cards.

“Rummy…hearts is no fun with just three” replied Bobby.

They played a couple of hands, David winning the first and Kenneth winning the second. Bobby looked at the spread of cards after the second game, face squinted questioningly at the cards.

“Kenneth, are you sure this deck is complete?”

“Yeah…I think so.”

“Think so?” replied Bobby, then holding out his right hand, “let me count the deck.”

Bobby flipped through the cards quickly, counting the cards as he went.

“…48, 49, 50, 51…it’s short one card.”

“Damn, let me have that deck. Look in the second drawer for another one” said Kenneth as he took the deck. He stood up and moved to the opposite side of his room where the wastebasket sat. When he turned he gasped, unable to tell David to stop, for he saw it was too late. Time slowed as he saw David looking down in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. David was frozen in place, just staring at the contents of the drawer.

“What are you looking at?” Bobby asked as he scooted across the bed and looked down into the drawer. “What in the hell…Kenneth…what is this?”

“Guys…it’s nothing…just some catalogs and fitness magazines…”

David turned toward Kenneth as he lifted a composition notebook out with images of men pasted on the ruled pages. Men in their underwear, or in bikinis, muscle men lifting weights or playing sports.

“What the fuck, Kenneth…you a fag or something?” asked David, his tone judgmental. Bobby looked from the notebook up at Kenneth and back.

“Guys…please…” whispered Kenneth, as he felt the room spin, his heart pounding in his chest. His most private secret, the shame of it, brought out in the open by his only real friends. Kenneth didn’t think it could get worse till he saw Bobby reach into the drawer bringing out photographs. “No…no…please…” he whispered as he saw Bobby thumb through the photos, recognition of what the photos were.

Kenneth had known it was not a good idea to keep them, not together like this, especially with his clippings, but they were the images that made him feel the most, the images that he could connect to the best in his fantasies. The images of Bobby and David at a pool party, shirtless, their wet shorts clinging to their bodies, or images of them playing ball, sweating profusely, shirts once again removed. And there were the close-up shots, David smiling at the camera and Bobby looking off to the side, his thick black hair hanging over his forehead into his eyes.

David dropped the notebook into the drawer and jumped to his feet. “You goddamn queer…all this time…” he said in a loud accusatory voice as he pushed past Kenneth. Stopping at the door he turned back, looking at Kenneth. “You make me sick. Bobby come on.”

Bobby eased up off the bed and Kenneth saw him slip the photographs into his pocket as he stood up.

“Bobby…please…”

“What the fuck…how could you?” replied Bobby as he moved past Kenneth following David out of the house.

The sound of applause brought Kenneth out of daydreaming of his own past and he became aware of Nancy stepping away from the podium and Arthur moving behind it. He began to speak about the center itself, the work involved in procuring the building, the renovation and finally the grand opening. Arthur was fifteen years younger and Kenneth began to once again to consider their differences. How their lives were so different, both due to the place of their childhoods but also the time. His own rural upbringing versus Arthur growing up in Atlanta and the time period of each, his own during the sixties and so closeted, nothing out in the open versus Arthur’s when there seemed to be an acknowledgment of gays and lesbians, the first signs of acceptance by a segment of the population. Characters on television or the movies, although some were not the best role models, there were a few. Arthur’s talk of friends in school who knew he was gay and how they gave him support and friendship. It had been so different from his own experience. That day in his room came back to him. He still felt the pain of that day after all these years. And for everything David did afterwards to hurt him, it was Bobby who would hurt him in a way that would take over twenty-eight years before they would talk again and find closure.

For weeks after David and Bobby had stormed out of his room he worried. Worried about who they would tell, worried about how it would ultimately come back to his folks and how eventually everyone in the community would know. And he felt the loss of his only friends. There developed a sense of isolation he didn’t know if he could survive. For days he ate very little, to the point his mother threatened to take him to the doctor to see what was wrong, thinking it had to be something physical.

The dog days of summer arrived, the heat stifling as the humidity rose higher and higher. Scattered rain showers crossed the countryside daily, sometimes with strong winds and lightning that lit up the dark skies. Kenneth had been staying close to home, going for bike rides by himself, letting his parents think he was off with David and Bobby. He had not tried to call or see them since that day in his bedroom. Fear griped him every time he considered it. He felt paralyzed. 

It was only two weeks till school started up again and he found himself on his bike. He had been desperate that morning to get away from home, his mother going on about why David and Bobby had not been at the house in weeks. He rode down to the trails and circled in and around the woods on one or another rain slicked trail. His pace was slow, for the red clay was slippery and being alone took away from the fun. Down at the creek he watched the swollen waters roil by, muddy and fast moving from the rains. Sitting on a branch of a live oak he watched the waters move underneath him as he tried to imagine what school would be like in the fall. His worst fear being David and Bobby telling everyone what they found in his bedroom.

How long he had been sitting he had no idea when he heard someone coming down the trail. He began to move down the branch thinking it best to leave when he saw it was Bobby. He sat silent, not moving, wondering if David was behind him and whether, or not he should ease down and leave.

Bobby stopped by Kenneth’s bike and looked up and down the bank then up in the tree. He stepped over his bike and let it drop down by Kenneth’s and moved closer to the live oak, only a few feet away. Looking up he didn’t say anything for a long time, the two of them just staring at each other. Kenneth knew there was nothing for him to say but he couldn’t make himself leave either.

Bobby turned and looked over the creek, “you ready for school?”

“No” Kenneth replied in a low nervous voice.

“I’m not going to say anything” said Bobby after a long silence. Kenneth didn’t reply, didn’t know what to say, for anything would sound like an admission he couldn’t bring himself to do. “I don’t know about David, though…he might…say something” Bobby added as he looked away from Kenneth.

“That is…what I’m afraid of” replied Kenneth, finally able to say something.

“Are you…really queer?”

There is was, the question. This moment played heavily in his thoughts the last few weeks, but Kenneth didn’t know till now how it would feel to hear it asked of him. Tears streaming down his cheeks he wiped them with his dirty hands and looked down into the roiling waters.

“I don’t know…maybe…”

“Kenneth…I don’t know about this. Really, I don’t, but…David will never…and… I won’t do anything to hurt you, but we can’t be friends no more” Bobby said, still looking away, then he walked back to his bike. And he was gone, the sound of his bike moving through the woods soon lost to the wind.

Kenneth sat in the tree for a long time, unable to move. He knew David would never speak to him again but Bobby he hadn’t been so sure. Now he was, and it hurt worse, for Bobby seemed to still have feelings of friendship toward him, the way he spoke earlier, but in the end, it was too much.

For years afterward, he considered this moment the one that seem to set the course of his life during the next three years, the way things would unfold in a manner he could never imagine. It would be five years, his second in college, before he felt like his life would have any meaning. Till then, things would only get worse.

Once again it was the applause of the audience that would bring Kenneth back to the present. Everything about this event with the Youth Center had awaken those demons of his past, brought it all back like it was only yesterday. Things had changed so much since then; he had changed too.

“Okay everyone, we have food and drink on the tables along the back wall. The band will begin as soon as they get set up, so please…enjoy the rest of the day and remember, we are constantly looking for volunteers and contributions…” said Kenneth, for what seemed like the millionth time. It was never ending, this need, and he spoke with the tone of someone battle tested over time, for if nothing else, he was that.

He saw the young boys and girls of the center as they moved to get in line, several paired up, holding hands, smiling at each other in a way only the young can do. Kenneth smiled at the casual nature of it, the way they could be themselves in this place. A place that stood in for home when their parents failed them.

Ted came up with two cups, holding one out to him.

“After that big speech I figured you’d need this” Ted joked as Kenneth took the cup.

“Thanks.”

“So, you have that look. What are you thinking about?”

Ninth grade began in every way Kenneth had feared. No one spoke to him, falling silent as he passed each group. There were the looks, the deliberate turning of backs toward him whenever he approached. In biology, no one would partner with him and even the teacher went along with his ostracizing. He found himself totally isolated. At lunch he sat at the table nearest the teachers, the one no students wanted to sit except those in trouble for something and forced to sit there. Every time he went to his locker he found nasty notes stuck through the louvers. The tone grew worse as each day went by till there was suggestions he commit suicide. After the first week he found ‘queer’ in black marker written across the front. A teacher was standing almost directly behind him and said nothing as he stood staring at the incriminating word. He did not know how it could get worse.

That night, he went to his room after dinner, as he often did, unable to face his own parents, afraid they could see it written on his face.  He had been playing records and trying to do his homework when he heard the phone ring. Unable to hear what was being said he could make out his mother’s voice as she spoke to whoever was calling. He turned down the record player but still could not hear what was being said but it felt ominous. His mother talked for only a few minutes then there was silence.

Kenneth waited, for he knew something was up the way the sound of the television had been turned down, the house eerily silent.

“Kenneth…come here” his father called out, the tone of his voice hard, angry sounding.

He turned off the record player and went to the living room where his mother stood by his father, who was in his chair. What was said he could never remember, only the tone of it, the accusatory nature of it. He remembered his mother leaving the room going to their bedroom. He remembered his father standing up, getting in his face, how his reply to a question earned him a slap.

When he walked back to his bedroom, everything a blur, he found his mother there. She was on her knees at his nightstand, the bottom drawer open, the notebook on the floor in front of her. He knew he should have destroyed it, gotten rid of it that afternoon David had found it, but some part of him wondered if he wanted them to find it. Maybe he wanted the world to end, everything to come undone, once and for all.

He didn’t go back to school the next morning, nor did he ever go back to that school. Instead he spent the morning packing his clothes, his books, and a few personal effects. His record player and albums were set aside by his father, saying they had to stay. His mother stood in his doorway watching him pack. The only thing she would say was one command or another about his packing. His father was at the school setting up for his transferring to another school. They were sending him to his grandmother’s up in Evergreen. A place where he knew no one.

He anticipated a cold reception, that his grandmother would react the same as her daughter, his mother. They arrived late that day, only a few minutes of daylight remaining. He climbed out of his mother’s station wagon and went to the back unloading the two large suit cases that held his clothing. His father came up, pulled out the two boxes that contained books and a few personal effects then followed him to the porch where his mother and grandmother stood talking silently amongst themselves.

As he climbed the six steps up to the porch he wondered how he would be greeted. He was breathing hard, his heart racing in his chest as he stepped on the porch. His mother opened the screen door for him.

“Take those on in to the bedroom in the back” said his mother.

As he crossed the porch his grandmother touched his arm, a soft gentle touch, and he looked up to see her smiling at him. Not a humorous smile but one of concern and caring. He didn’t know what to say or do, so he kept walking till he was in the bedroom he knew had been his Uncle Walter’s room. Sitting on the narrow single bed he heard his father in the dining room where he sat the boxes on the table. He heard the screen door open then close, his parents talking to his grandmother, their voices unintelligible. Then he heard his parents drive away and the screen door open and close once more.

Softly, barely audible in the old farm house, he heard his grandmother walking toward the room. He heard her move down the short hall and stop in the doorway.

“Come here Kenny” said his grandmother, arms open for a hug.

Kenneth found his grandmother accepting in a way he could not fathom. She treated him as she always had, and it would be years later before he understood. She had been an old Southern Democrat, fiercely independent, his grandfather having passed away before he was born. She lived by the rule that everyone was to live and let live and over the course of those first few weeks as they talked about what happened, he began to sense her acceptance of him, no matter what had happened. She had no answers, didn’t pretend to, but she gave him her support telling him often she didn’t need to understand.

He began school a few days later, the main high school in Greenville. He was someone new, known to some as Mrs. Howard’s grandson, but to most a stranger. Over the course of a few days he settled into the routine of classes and made a few casual friends, but he would not allow anyone to get too close.

Two weeks later his mother showed up late one morning. In the back of the wagon was his record player and albums. She was distant, keeping her arms folded across her chest, but she was more talkative, inquisitive about his new school and what his classes were like. She seemed to be trying to mend the rift between them, but didn’t know how. And he was too young at the time to understand fully how she was reaching out to him. He had sensed a change in her demeanor. He knew she was reaching out by bringing his record player and albums, but at the time it wasn’t enough; not nearly enough.

She stayed for lunch and Kenneth listened as his grandmother told of their routine, going into town on Saturday and Sundays, getting him off to school and some evenings, just before dark, taking a walk down to the old pond at the back of the property. His mother listened, commenting occasionally. When lunch was finished, Kenneth washed the few dishes as his grandmother and mother put away the leftovers then settled back at the table.

“Are you and Jason coming for Thanksgiving?” his grandmother asked.

There was a long pause before his mother answered.

“I don’t think so…maybe Christmas?”

“Cheryl…” his grandmother began then stopped, letting his mother’s name hang in the air. Kenneth rushed to finish the dishes and left the room, going to his bedroom and closing the door. Sitting on the bed he heard his mother stir around in the kitchen then walk to his door. He sat silent, unable to move, waiting, knowing she had be about to knock. Then he heard her walk back to the front of the house, and the screen door open and close. A few minutes later her car started, and he listened to the sound of it driving away.

Ted bumped Kenneth’s shoulder with his own.

“You okay?”

“Yes…no…hell, I don’t know” Kenneth replied, and he laughed at the absurdity of his reply.

“You and the others have done a wonderful thing here” said Ted, adding “I know this is tough.”

Ted knew all about Kenneth’s own experience, and how he had been lucky to have someone who would take him in, something far too many did not have, even now. Kenneth nodded his head, then reached out taking Ted by the hand.

“Come on, there is a slice of cake over there with my name on it” Kenneth jokingly stated as he led Ted across the room.

They moved outside to the small patio area on the end of the building, sitting on a bench underneath a maple tree, its lowest limb hanging just above their heads.

“You know, I look at these kids and think they are, in some ways, stronger than we were. They have a greater sense of what can be versus what is at this moment. Does that make sense?” asked Kenneth as he turned to Ted.

“Yeah, of course. They have the history of everyone’s struggle up to this point, and, when they look at Arthur, or Nancy, or you and I, they can see it does get better.”

Kenneth nodded and looked across the patio where a group of the youth were sitting on the ground talking amongst themselves. He considered how they had each other and this safe place to allow that to happen and how quickly even Katie was smiling and laughing again. It had been like that with his grandmother during the three years he lived with her. And when it had been time to go to college he found himself driving the new sedan his father had bought his mother, with his grandmother in the passenger seat and her in the back.

It had been nineteen seventy when he found himself on campus at a time of turmoil, with protests against the war and students rebelling against the ways of their parents. That first year had been frightening, unsure how to respond to everything going on around him and after so many years of self-isolation, not sure how to really make friends. He had struggled with his classes for a few weeks until he found his rhythm. He fell into a routine with classes and slowly made one friend, then another. One connection led to another. Then it led to that party.

Kenneth sat low in the old sofa looking around the small living room. There was a sense of amazement, awe that he was even at a party, any party, much less this one. And more amazing was how many people he knew. It had been a little over a year since he arrived on campus and slowly, one person at a time he now found himself among other students he considered friends. Mary, the first person he got to know, an art major from south Florida, next to her was Tim, a history major and over in the bean bag was Sam, another art major. Glancing to his right, sitting next to him on the sofa was Dana and Ryan, both English majors. Standing in the doorway was Thomas and behind him in the dining room was Chad, Sara, Lisa and Wendy making their way around the table. Music came from the front bedroom and other voices came from the small kitchen in back. The air was heavy with smoke, and empty bottles and glasses spoke to the late hour, the party settling down into that late phase where everyone had found a place to sit and relax. Conversations became less boisterous, some serious, others more personal.

Kenneth saw Dana and Ryan kiss once, laugh, then kiss again. Thomas moved into the room sitting on the floor at the end of the coffee table.

“Man…” uttered Thomas under his breath as he looked across the coffee table at all the empties, and everyone laughed.

The house was rented by Gavin, another English major that Kenneth had recently met through Ryan. Of all the guys he had met over the last year it was Gavin that made him feel the most anxious. Whenever he spoke to Gavin there was something about the way he looked back at him. Kenneth felt he was being studied, Gavin’s stare trying to see inside of him. And there was some vibe, some aspect about Gavin that drew him in but also scared him. After Ryan and Dana had told him of Gavin’s party last weekend his consideration of Gavin’s personality only grew worse. He had entertained the idea that maybe Gavin was gay, maybe he secretly like other guys too, but he remembered seeing Gavin with a girl at Grant’s, the main bar across from campus. So, he had to be projecting, putting characteristics on Gavin he desired him to have. Even so, he still had been looking forward the to party more so than any other. 

Taking another sip of his beer, he looked through the dining room and the door into the kitchen trying to find Gavin, wondering where he had disappeared. Laughter came from the front porch that spanned the front of the old house and he looked up over the back of the sofa out the window. Only shadows and reflections could be seen on the glass but the voices outside became clearer and he realized none belonged to Gavin.

Sitting up straight thinking he should walk out to the kitchen and maybe the back yard where some were sitting around a fire he heard Lisa’s high-pitched voice in the dining room.

“Gavin, man…where have you been.”

Looking over, Kenneth saw him step into the dining room from the short hall that led to the bathroom and the back two bedrooms, one Gavin slept in and the other he used as a study.

“Just taking a break, my dear” Gavin replied sarcastically.

Gavin had removed his shirt and stood in the dining room in just his jeans. They fit tight to his tall lean body, and low on the waist. Gavin absentmindedly ran his right hand up his stomach and over his chest, and Kenneth’s eyes followed its movement. Then he let his eyes look over the lean torso, the narrow trial of hair that disappeared into the low-slung jean. His eyes moved over the jeans, the way the crotch bulged, the outline of Gavin’s cock lying to the side so obvious it made Kenneth’s mouth go dry. Gavin turned toward him, and he could see the way the fly of the jeans bowed outward revealing the buttons struggling to remain within their holes. Then he realized one button was free, the fabric trying to part where it was un-done and Kenneth felt his own fingers tug at his cock.

Gavin moved toward him and he cast his gaze up, finding Gavin looking down at him with knowing smile on his face. Kenneth felt the burn of embarrassment on his face, knowing Gavin saw where his eyes had been focused. He waited on some comment, some snide remark to be made, something jokingly stated to embarrass him, but Gavin only moved into the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa next to him.

“You having a good time?” asked Gavin.

“Yeah, it’s a great party.”

Gavin leaned back, his body angled closer to Kenneth and he could smell his masculine scent mixed with that sweet musky scent of the oil he wore. Gavin laid his arm across the sofa’s back and Kenneth had the sense of being wrapped up within his body. He sensed the heat of it, the way it stretched out next to him. He was unable to control himself letting his eyes graze along the bare chest and stomach, downward to where it disappeared into the jeans. The jeans looked loose around the waist and he gazed into the dark gap trying to see what lay within. He could see it through the jeans, the way it lay sideways, stretched out to the left thigh, the round shaft clearly defined through the worn faded denim.  He tugged on the crotch of his own jeans feeling the constriction within grow worse.

Gavin laughed then twirled a couple of fingers in Kenneth’s hair.

“Hey…let’s go to my room a minute” said Gavin into Kenneth’s ear, his voice so low, barely audible, only Kenneth could hear it.

“Okay” Kenneth replied, his voice hoarse and nervous and he stood up behind Gavin and followed him out of the living room, through the dining room into the short hall. He watched how Gavin moved, graceful, slow with each gesture or movement. He followed too closely behind, so close he could see the mole on the right shoulder and a tiny scare on the back of the left arm. He was Gavin’s shadow.

Gavin opened his bedroom door and stood aside letting Kenneth enter first. Unsure what to do, where to sit, the room messy, clothes piled on the floor, a dresser covered in personal effects and the bed with it covers lying haphazardly across the foot of it. And there were stacks of books everywhere. On the nightstand, on the dresser and on the floor in every corner. He moved into the room and watched Gavin close and lock the door.

“Sit” said Gavin nodding toward the bed.

Kenneth sat down suddenly realizing the only light was from a lamp on the nightstand, the shade covered by a red scarf making the light red, dimmed to a soft warm glow. Gavin came over to the bed and sat next to him, their legs brushing together. Leaning back onto his elbows, Gavin stretched out next to him.

“I saw you looking at me” Gavin whispers.

“What?!...I…”

“It’s okay. I was looking at you.”

Kenneth feels Gavin touch him on the back, fingers raking over his shirt. The hand moves upward till the fingers are kneading his neck making him tilt his head back embracing this contact.

When Gavin grasps his neck and pulls him down, Kenneth descends willingly, till they are kissing. Gavin takes Kenneth’s left hand and places it on his stomach, encouraging the contact…pushing for more.

Kenneth opens his mouth allowing Gavin’s tongue to move within his mouth as he feels the undulation of Gavin’s stomach underneath his hand. The slow up and down movement of this breathing. The warmth of the contact tempts him, fuels his desire for more. Slowly, gently, fingers barely touching the skin, he moves his hand downward, through the narrow trail of hair till he feels soft worn denim. He runs his fingers along the top of the jeans, back and forth, afraid to go further.

Gavin grabs his wrist guiding his hand down below the waistband. He feels no underwear, only skin, as his fingers move further down till he feels it, the hard shaft of Gavin’s cock.

“Touch me” Gavin whispers and Kenneth slips his fingers around the hard shaft feeling its girth fill his hand. “Oh yeah” utters Gavin as he pushes Kenneth on his back and rolls on top of him, hand pinned within those tight jeans where Gavin pushes against it, cock flexing in the tight grasp. “You like that…my cock in your hand” Gavin whispers in his ear.

“Yes” exclaims Kenneth, louder than he should have been, as he feels that hard shaft and the weight of Gavin on top of him, the bare torso so hot against him he feels sweat trickle down his sides.

Rising up on his hands Gavin grinds his crotch against Kenneth’s till both are moaning. Kenneth’s cock is painfully confined between them. Opening his eyes, he looks at Gavin hovering over him, realizing for the first time how up close he looks so boyish. The smoothness of his cheeks and chin, and a nose that is small and upturned. Looking down he sees Gavin’s upper torso moving over him, the lean build reflecting every muscle and the shape of his rib cage, and the fair skin stretched tightly over all of it. He reaches up and rubs his fingers across the flat chest and over the hard nub of the right nipple.

“Fuck” Gavin utters as he moves up grabbing Kenneth’s shirt and tugging on it trying to get it off. Kenneth moves to remove his shirt and he feels Gavin fumbling with his belt, then jeans, tugging roughly on the zipper. As he tosses the shirt aside Gavin is tugging his jeans and briefs down his legs. His cock smacks his abdomen when it comes free and suddenly he is naked, Gavin standing up between his spread legs.

“Nice” utters Gavin as he moves up closer, waiting, eyes locked on Kenneth’s, everything Kenneth needs to know in that stare.

Kenneth sat up, Gavin’s stomach only inches from his face. He saw the round flared head of Gavin’s cock protruding above the waistband, wet, an angry red in color and he moved to it, tentatively touch his tongue to it, then pressed his lips to it. Reaching up he took hold of those jeans and tugged, feeling one button after the next pull free till the front spread open and the jeans slid down Gavin’s thighs. Kenneth’s mouth filled with Gavin’s cock, the flared head pushing to the back of his throat as his lips stretched around the thick shaft.

“Shit…yeah….” uttered Gavin as he moved his hips, pushed inward into Kenneth’s mouth savoring the way it felt.

Pulling back, his cock sticking straight out glistening wet, Gavin eased down between Kenneth’s legs resting his arms on each thigh.  Leaned back on his elbows Kenneth watched as Gavin held his cock up, licked the clear bead pooled in the slit off then licked down the shaft and back up. Fighting hard to control himself, Kenneth watched as Gavin took him, lips tight around the shaft as they plunged all the way downward. Up and down Gavin worked his mouth till Kenneth was pumping his hips upward, the need for release rising quickly. Suddenly he felt the warm air of room on his wet cock and he opened his eyes to Gavin slipping an arm under each leg, then moving up and over him. It was strange, the way Gavin was bringing his legs up then over, folding him over till each leg lay next to his upper body. He felt the way his hips rose upward, ass spread open and knew what Gavin was going to do. He was scared, afraid how it would feel for a man to penetrate him, to sink their hardness into his body. He was afraid it would hurt, that it would be too much. He was afraid he couldn’t take it. He was afraid he would make Gavin stop no matter how much he didn’t want him to.

Gavin kissed him, then moved along his jaw then neck, lips touching his skin making him acutely aware of every sensation. He felt the push against his ass, the hardness rake over him then bore down on his opening. He felt himself resist, that fear rising up.

“Don’t ya want it?” Gavin whispered.

“Yeah…but…”

“Relax…push to me.”

Kenneth pushed against Gavin’s cock and felt himself open to it, the stretch of his opening as the head then shaft sank into his hole. His whole body shuddered as Gavin pushed into his depths. He clung to him, felt the heat of their bodies as Gavin pressed tightly against his ass.

“Damn…you have me…all of me.”

Kenneth closed his eyes, his entire focus on the feel of Gavin moving within him, the undulating body against the back of his legs, the feel of cock moving inward, deeply, then pulling back. The room became hot and closed in around him. He no longer heard the voices coming from other parts of the house, the laughter, the talking nor the music. He heard only the grunts and mutterings of Gavin and his own moans. Every time Gavin sank all the way into his body he moaned, growing louder as Gavin’s pace increased.

He felt the weight of Gavin move off and he opened his eyes to see him on his knees. Holding his legs, Gavin brought them tight to his chest and kept pumping his hips, rocking Kenneth roughly on the bed. The bed squeaked then began to hit the wall. For a moment he considered the noise they were making, but closed his eyes and found himself working his hips when Gavin had taken his own erection and began to stroke it in rhythm with their fuck.

“Oh fuck” Kenneth cried out as he felt the surge through his body, the imminent release that caused him to buck upward, shoving his cock through Gavin’s fist and his ass on Gavin’s cock. He shuddered as he splattered his load across his face, chest then stomach.

“Fuck…shoot it…shoot it man” Gavin uttered through clinched teeth as he hammered Kenneth’s hole. “Fuck, I’m coming.”

Gavin eased out of Kenneth and sat on his heels, still breathing hard. Opening his eyes Kenneth looked at the sweaty body, the way Gavin’s skin glistened in the dim light.

“Damn…that was nice” Gavin whispered as he looked down with a mischievous smile spread across his face. He climbed off the bed and slipped his jeans back on. “Stay here. I’m going to clear out this party.”

After lying still for a while, Kenneth sat up on the edge of the bed. He felt the trickling of cum down his cheek, chest and stomach and looked down to watch one rivulet trickle down his stomach till it came to rest on his thigh. He considered going to the bathroom to clean up but the sound of people still in the house made him forget the notion. He stood and moved to his jeans thrown on the floor retrieving his briefs, which he used to wipe his face, chest and stomach. As he got the last of it off his stomach he felt Gavin’s load trickle down the inside of his thigh and he wiped it away too.

Tossing his briefs on top of his jeans he eased down on the bed on his stomach. Eyes closed, his breathing slowed down, he listened to the noises coming from the other rooms of the house till finally, the music turned off and the house was silent. The door of the bedroom opened and closed, and he sensed Gavin standing by the bed.

“Has everyone left?” asked Kenneth.

“Yes” replied Gavin as Kenneth felt him move on the bed, straddling his thighs.

Kenneth felt Gavin’s hair touch his shoulders and head then the warm softness of lips on the back of his neck. The bed rocked as Gavin’s cock rested on his ass, pressed against it tightly as Gavin lay on his back.

Kenneth kept his eyes closed, lost to the sensations Gavin was stirring within him. There was no awareness of one action or another, not how one act led to another. He only knew the press of Gavin against his body, the heat of it, the way it made him feel. Before he realized it, Gavin was pushing into his depths again, this time slowly, no urgency driven by their lust. Lips touched the back of his neck, moved around to his right ear and he felt the warm wetness of tongue following the curve of his ear. He pushed upward with his hips trying to take Gavin deeper, to reach deep within his body and touch the longing he had harbored for so long.

The bed squeaked softly beneath them as Gavin moved within his body, pushing inward deeply, abdomen grinding against this ass. His own cock grew hard, and his movements rubbed it against the bed till he was near release.

“Fuck me…fuck me” Kenneth moaned as he felt Gavin raise up. Gavin’s hands held his own down as he thrust inward harder and harder, the bed squeaking loudly, protesting the roughness of their fuck. Gavin’s pace grew faster and the bed banged against the wall, the rocking motion mirroring their own.

“Goddamn…” Gavin uttered as he shoved inward and ground his abdomen against Kenneth’s ass.

Then Gavin lay on Kenneth’s back, his hot sweaty body heaving for breath. Kenneth felt out of breath too and realized he lay in the wetness of his own load.

It had been some time since Kenneth thought of that first time with Gavin. It seemed so important at the time but now, it was merely the first of many times since. He shook his head and smiled at the memory, the superficial nature of it, for Gavin was never one to be serious with any one person, male or female. He had gone to Gavin’s place a lot over the remainder of the term and the next year, until Gavin’s graduating brought an end to it. Then there were others. The confidence to read the signals being given, even if subconscious, and the confidence to act upon them. For his last two years he had met seven others. Four of them had been merely for the sex, for the guys could not bring themselves to want more, to try to make it a normal relationship in a time when such a thing was so alien to them. Two had been disastrous for the guys flipped out afterward leaving him feeling sorry for them. Even in private they could not admit their sexuality.

Looking across the patio he saw Evan and Taylor come out, two boys he had known for a year now. They were from the next county over and had showed up one rainy night in Taylor’s old truck, both having come out to their parents and both kicked out on the same night. They had mannerisms and a way about them that after all these years was still so familiar. Country boys, dressed in white t-shirts and jeans, of a style none of the boys in town wore. He watched them move over to a bench and sit next to each other, laughing at something Taylor had said.

It had been almost a shock when he had first met them, for Evan looked so familiar, someone he should know. He knew it was ridiculous, for there was no way for him to know some seventeen-year old kid from Monroe County.

It took a little time during that first encounter, the night the boys showed up for help, for it to hit him why Evan looked so familiar. Why he didn’t realize it immediately was probably due to the late hour, and how it always upset him to have to take in another kid, this time two at one time. But Evan looked like James, the guy he had met in that last Fall Semester of college. The same light brown hair, the light skin with freckles across his cheeks and nose and the blue eyes, so vivid to appear as some exotic liquid. Even the way Evan walked, that casual gait, arms loose at his side, his feet barely leaving the ground with each step. It all reminded him of James. Number seven, the last one during college.

Senior year started with a mixture of excitement and dread. Excitement of nearing graduation, his years at college coming to an end, and dread for it meant getting a job and falling into the rhythm of adulthood responsible for everything, rent, car, food, etc. For the first few days he had been so focused on classes that the idea of looking for someone had to wait, but eventually he began to watch the other guys. In class, walking across campus, in the library and everywhere he went, he watched them. Looked for the signals, the mannerisms or gestures that gave some indication they were gay. He met them eye to eye, seeing who kept the contact longer than normal, gave some acknowledgement it could mean more than a simple greeting.

Three days a week, Kenneth didn’t finish classes till two o’clock in the afternoon, when he would race over to the nearest cafeteria. It was on the south side of campus in the section of dorms for women and at two o’clock, it was never busy. It was a Wednesday afternoon when he first saw James. Having raced into the cafeteria, gone through the line and took a seat at a table near the windows, his intention was to read some of his assignment while he ate. As he settled down, taking his first bite, his eyes scanned the room and to his left, the next table over, on the opposite end James had just sat down. He watched him, the way James was scanning the room too.

Kenneth studied the lean figure, the way he sat, leaned forward resting on one elbow, bringing his fork up slowly, bite after bite. And with each bite his head seemed to move around a few degrees, eyes scanning the room not focusing on any one person for long. Kenneth found his own pace of eating aligning with the guy, slowly, bite after bite, as he watched him trying to get a read on him.

As the guy turned his head around till Kenneth could see his eyes, making out their blue color, he wondered whether, or not, the guy was looking for a female, or a male to focus his eyes. Watching intently Kenneth suddenly became aware the eyes were focused on him and the guy was smiling mischievously.  ‘Busted’ Kenneth thought as he looked away quickly.

How long he looked away he didn’t know but curiosity overwhelmed his embarrassment and he glanced back over to the guy who was looking down focused on his plate. Kenneth watched him till he saw the cut of eyes his way and he anxiously looked away wondering if he should have held eye contact. The next time he looked over the guy was walking toward the tray drop off.

Of all the guys he had seen on campus the guy in the cafeteria was the most intriguing, the one who had seemed to be sending out those familiar signals, some unspoken message of being the same. For several days, now aware of him, Kenneth saw the guy a few times a day, in the class just before his nine o’clock class, coming out when he was preparing to go in. His Biology class at eleven o’clock in one of the largest lecture halls in the science building where across the room he saw him sitting a few rows down.  And in the cafeteria always sitting alone away from everyone else.

After a few days Kenneth couldn’t stand it and in the cafeteria, tray in hand, he made his way to the guy’s table, coming right up in front of him.

“You mind if I sit here?”

“Huh…oh, no” the guy replied.

“You’re in my biology class in Sutton Hall” Kenneth stated as he sat.

“Yeah” the guy replied, smiling, “and you’re coming into room 124 over in Landon when I’m coming out.”

There was a knowing smile shared between them, then Kenneth nodded toward the open paperback lying next to the guy’s tray.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh…it’s…” the guy hesitated to reply then seemed resigned to admitting to its title, “____________.”

Kenneth recognized the title, knew of the book from his own searches of literature that spoke to him, gave him a character in whom he could identify.

“I’ve not read that book, but have you read ______________?”

The guy’s eyebrows rose in surprise then he laughed out loud. “Yeah, I’ve read that one.  I’m James.”

“Kenneth.”

The recollection of events afterward vivid, emotional, the way they ended up at James dorm room, clothes scattered across the floor, the two of them in bed. How they ended up there, the exact course of events from the cafeteria to that dorm room had faded from memory till it was only the emotional qualities that remained, the sense of it. But the memory of what they did in bed was still as detailed in his memory as the day it occurred. On his knees between James’ legs and how he raised them to his shoulders as he moved down over James till he could kiss him. How he held his cock down, pushing the head against James’ tightness. How he used the weight of his body to push through the tight ring of James’ opening and sink all the way inward till his abdomen pressed tightly against James.

Hands moved over the other. Their legs were intertwined. Bodies pressed together, as Kenneth moved over and in James. He kept his eyes closed so the only sensation was touch. The feel of James against his skin, warm to the touch. The feel of hands moving over his back, along his sides, at times clinging to him and there was the feel of his cock as it piston through the tightness of James’ opening. He felt every inch as he pushed inward and pulled out, the way James’ opening milked his shaft. It fueled his desires till there was an urgency to his fuck, hips moving faster and faster. He pushed inward harder and harder feeling the smack of his abdomen against James’ ass. He heard the moans, the pleading for him to fuck harder. The begging urged him on, drove him to fuck harder, rougher, the bed squeaking as it fought against their motions.

James cried out and bit his neck and the pain circuited straight to his cock and his release surged through him, his cock harder, thicker, so sensitive he could barely stand to thrust it inward. He came, hard, eruption after eruption deep within James till he was fucking dry, spent, exhaustion seeping into his muscles bringing him to a slow stop, heaving for breath.

James rolled him over on his back and he willingly gave himself over to the manipulations, the lifting of his legs, the push at his opening then the penetration. James was thick, the thickest he had ever seen, and it hurt at first, the way James’ cock spread him open, stretched his hole open more than ever before. He pushed with his hips trying to take more.

James twisted his torso around, legs pushed together, and he felt how that cock pushed in at an angle, bore into his depths till he saw stars. Every thrust inward hit something within him, and he took his own cock, suddenly erect once again, and stroked in rhythm with James fuck.

“Jesus…fuck me, fuck me” Kenneth cried out, his voice trailing off into a moan.

James didn’t last long and as he held Kenneth down, hands over his head, James slammed hips against Kenneth’s ass till he was shaking with release.

They lay in bed, fingers grazing over sweat slick skin and their bodies intertwined. Kenneth let his eyes scan the naked body that lay against him, the long legs, the lean torso, the line of jaw, high cheeks and strong angular nose and the blue eyes that watched him. They sniggered and laughed out loud. For Kenneth, sex with James wasn’t like with any of the others. Gavin had been his first, the person who showed him the pleasure he had so often fantasized about, but it didn’t have the emotional weight he craved. But he had learned from it, savored that time with Gavin, knowing he wasn’t the only one, never would have been. Then there were the others, mostly just two guys helping each other with getting off. Just sex as one referred to it when he had pulled on his clothes heading for the door, avoiding Kenneth’s gaze, and avoiding the question of a phone number, of seeing each other again.

Looking at James he wondered how things would unfold, for already it had felt different, some aspect of emotion tied in with their physical sex.

Over the remainder of the year Kenneth and James progressed further. They began to date regularly, both no longer seeing others. But there was the problem of their goals in life after graduation, and in the end, both knowing it would be the conclusion, they said goodbye to each other and went their separate ways. They stayed in contact sending letters and cards for years, but after a couple years they grew more and more infrequently, till now it was only a Christmas card with a summary of yet another year passing.

Kenneth knew James had been the one who allowed him to accept himself the most, the one who showed him what life could be like setting him on a path that led him to where he found himself now, happily married for thirty-two years content in life he wished for everyone.

“Kenneth, you want to go back inside” asked Ted as he stood holding out his left hand, the gold band on the ring finger shiny in the light of day.

“Okay” Kenneth replied taking Ted’s hand letting him help him up.

“I’m going to step out and call Carol about the opening next weekend.”

“She got you the space you need?”

“I think so; that is why I want to call her while she is still in the gallery.”

Kenneth watched Ted go out the front entry, phone held to his ear. He was proud of how Ted’s work was finally getting the notice he thought it deserved. The opening next weekend would be his biggest. Passing through the main room he moved to the corridor that led to the offices. He had a few things to check on then he would rejoin the celebration. One of many in his long life.