The Gulf Between Us

Chapter 22

Driving the Boat

Ivan's father came home before Boris left. We went to J.K's. Kitchen. It was an informal family type restaurant. Many of the patrons were barefoot and jeans and t-shirts were fine. The food was good and the owner, a round happy man, stood at the table speaking the lingo with Mr. Aleksa.

It was different from the way they talked at the house. Boris added his two cents worth. Ivan and I were in the dark. The three of them were going full speed, enjoying the conversation.

“Russian,” Ivan explained. “I can't speak it but I catch enough to know what's up. They're mostly talking food and fishing.”

“Boris speaks Russian?” I asked, amazed anyone could.

“It's Dad's second language. He learned as a kid in Lithuania. Dad taught Boris when they were on the boat together. It's like Latin to me,” Ivan explained.

“Like Latin?” I asked.

“Latin's known as the dead language,” Ivan said. “I'll never need to learn Russian. If I go to Lithuania, I can speak well enough to be understood. I'd speak bad Russian. Pop Pop refused to speak Russian. It was a principle for him.”

“Go to Lithuania?” I asked, startled by the idea.

“It's my culture, Clay. I'd like to see it. Meet my grandfather's people before they all die off.”

We had our conversation and the more grownup folks had theirs. I recognized maybe two words they said. The three of them spoke Russian like they were in Russia. I ate some black bread loaded with butter and was happy I spoke English, albeit poorly if you went by the rules. I think most people did.

Before we left the restaurant Boris called his mother to let her know he was still alive. They talked for a few minutes and Boris handed the phone to Ivan.

“She wants to talk to you.”

“Damn!” Ivan said, taking the phone, “Hello.”

He listened but didn't speak, and then he hung up the phone. His face had gone from happy to grim. He didn't like what he heard.

“I've got to report to Tampa with Boris,” Ivan said.

“When's Boris leaving?” I asked as if Boris wasn't standing there.

“Tomorrow,” Ivan said. “He's taking me back with him.”

Boris had stayed a week and now Ivan was going back with him. Mr. Aleksa wasn't going out to fish until the following week. They were still changing the boat back from the sport fishing trip and getting that equipment back where it belonged. Ivan and I wouldn't be expected to go out until the following Friday.

I told Mr. Aleksa that I'd be ready to go next week. I wanted him to know I wanted to be on the boat with or without Ivan. He smiled and nodded. I think it pleased him to know I was always ready to go out when he went.

Back at the house, Mr. Aleksa and his boys spoke their lingo, I'm sure it was Lithuanian this time. I decided they were talking about things that didn't concern me. Ivan didn't have much to say and he wasn't happy. Mr. Aleksa seemed to understand Ivan's feelings but it was how his mother operated and he should go for a couple of days..

I felt awkward. I knew that wasn't the intent. By the tone in his voice, and from the few words I picked up, Mr. Aleksa wasn't pleased about Ivan being ordered to Tampa. Boris shrugged and added to the conversation. The matter was settled and Ivan was going.

It meant up to a week without Ivan. That was never good. He had to be back by the time school started in two weeks.

*****

When Ivan returned from Tampa, we had a week before school started. It gave us time to go with Pop to get haircuts and I needed new pants and shirts as my arms and legs were too long for last years clothes.

Returning to school was no big deal this time. We were prepared for it and it meant one less year before school was out forever. That thought made the days pass easier.

Ivan and I had two classes together and the same lunch period. It made the days go faster. We sat beside each other in history and English. I asked Mama pack an extra sandwich in case Ivan didn't like the cafeteria lunch.

Our school routine didn't change much. The weekend fishing trips continued for the rest of the year, until the holidays, when Mr. Aleksa put the boat into dry dock for repairs.

It was a good time to have a break from school and work, although Ivan spent several more days in Tampa, which kept me with my family Christmas Eve and on Christmas. Everyone made an appearance, Coleen for a couple of hours, and John-Henry brought Angela for dinner, after sleeping in his own bed the night before.

Now that my father and Mr. Aleksa talked face to face and on the radio, I couldn't stay alone at Ivan's house. It would have been unacceptable to my parents. I didn't mind being with my family at Christmas.

Mr. Aleksa was increasingly unhappy about Ivan being forced to go to Tampa. He'd said it to me in plain English. It's the kind of thing he was likely to tell Pop, and with this knowledge, I slept in my own bed when Ivan wasn't in the house next to the river.

My wild child instincts didn't run so deep that I couldn't act normal at my house. The restrictions weren't harsh but once you roam free, the constraints of being at home worked against my wild child nature. Like Ivan's trips to Tampa. I did it to keep the peace.

Being myself wasn't as easy at my house. It was never more apparent than when I had to be at home for a few days in a row. At Christmas it was easier to be home. This year there was enough money to buy a tree that filled the foyer where old man Broadmore hanged himself.

All the presents went under the tree and on Christmas morning most of us were there to open presents. Lucy made the morning extra special. It no longer excited me but I loved to see how excited my little sister got over every gift she got.

Christmas dinner was also well attended by the family and a few guests who heard about Mama's meals. They came to see if they were as good as advertised.

No one went away disappointed.

*****

Ivan and I were on his balcony when 1966 arrived. We kissed each other and brought in the New Year right. We'd come a long way, but we had a long way to go.

All that mattered was that we were together and we'd be closer than ever for the entire year.

*****

Boris made the rounds on his eighteenth birthday. On the actual day his mother had a dinner and party for him in Tampa. Ivan went for his brother's birthday and brought him back with him for a dinner and party Mama planned for the day after his birthday.

Mr. Aleksa's came to Mama's party, which made it a unique experience. He sat at the table with us for dinner and in the den where we celebrated his son's landmark birthday. He proved to be a shy and retiring man in the midst of the Olson clan.

On a great occasion a good time was had by all. Ivan and Boris looked even more identical as Ivan matured. Boris was full of charm and he exuded the right amount of gracious humility. It was so Boris.

No one put two and two together at the time. We truly enjoyed the meal and the party afterward. Mother, finding out Boris loved cherries, fixed a cherry- chocolate cake that was spectacular. There was none left for Boris to take back to Tampa with him, but he ate the last two pieces after everyone was done.

At parties you hardly give a thought to the greater significance of something like an eighteenth birthday party. All it meant that day was cake, ice cream, well wishes, and a happy time meant to be enjoyed.

Ivan and I were soon turning sixteen. Even that didn't occur to us at the party for Boris. We were content to enjoy the moment and the mood.

Sixteen was also a landmark birthday and it began a sequence of events that made turning sixteen a most important event, but at the time Ivan turned sixteen it was another day and another nice party.

If not for Mr. Aleksa, nothing remarkable would have changed. He sensed change was at hand and he did what made him more comfortable with the two boys who lived in his house next to the river.

While sitting on Ivan's deck and marveling how little our world had changed in the nearly two years we'd known each other, Ivan realized that Boris had come of age, and while he could not yet legally drink or vote, he could be drafted and sent to war.

No one was thinking about his exposure to danger during the celebration of him growing a year older. We had military advisers in Vietnam, but they'd come under fire and some had been killed.

Now troops were being sent to protect the advisers.

Ivan was home after only one day in Tampa. That's all I cared about. My feelings for Boris had mellowed somewhat. It was nice to see him for the first time since the great upheaval late that summer. We hugged and he kissed me on the lips before he left for home. When he came to dinner at the Olson house, he'd hugged me without the kiss. Neither bothered me, and I didn't once think about him and Kenny standing naked in the galley of the Vilnius Two. It was progress.

When Ivan turned sixteen, it was no less amazing. Boris picked him up and took him for a party his mother gave and then the following day, Mama had a party for him. Boris returned to Tampa after the party, but both he and Mr. Aleksa were there. Our families had begun to mingle more completely.

Sixteen wasn't all that hot, once I thought about it. Like Boris had become exposed by his birthday, Ivan was immediately learning to drive his father's standard shift pickup truck.

It wasn't even Ivan's idea. Mr. Aleksa insisted Ivan learn to drive the vehicle and thus become mobile. Having my family a few minutes down the beach was all well and good, but Mr. Aleksa wanted Ivan to be able to drive in case of emergencies. He had nothing specific in mind, except feeling better about us being alone in the house.

There was no great need for mobility in my mind. The idea of Ivan being able to get in a vehicle and drive out of my life didn't appeal to me. Ivan had showed no interest in driving anywhere, but I still worried about losing the boy I loved.

I'd worried about that since we'd met.

*****

As time passed and my sixteenth birthday was at hand, the reason for Ivan learning to drive and get his license became apparent. Our last trip out before school ended, Mr. Aleksa slipped off his perch where he operated the boom net. He fell hard onto the deck and did not move.

“Don't move me,” he insisted as Ivan and I left the stern net to go to assist him.

“Pull the net, get the fish in the holds, and have an ambulance meet us at the fish warehouse. Call before we start back in.”

Mr. Aleksa's voice was strained and pained.

The first thing Ivan did was radio Captain Popov for help.

“Dad fell off the boom. He's seriously hurt. I'm calling for an ambulance to meet us at the fish warehouse.”

“Your nets?” Popov asked, assessing the situation.

“In the water. He wants us to pull them and get the fish in the holds before we return to port,” Ivan said.

“Hold tight, Ivan. I'm coming to you. I see you on my port side. Give me five minutes.”

The transmission ended and five minutes later Popov brought the trawler close enough to the Vilnius Two for four burly fisherman to leap onto our deck. They immediately went to work pulling the stern nets. In twenty minutes the fish were being scooped into the holds.

Popov eased along side, hooking the two boats together before making the leap himself.

“Nicky, what am I going to do with you? How bad is it, my friend?”

“Bad. I can hardly breathe. Have an ambulance meet us.”

“Will do, Nicky. No point in me following you in. These boys are fine fisherman. They'll get you home. Ivan, turn the boat in that direction,” Popov pointed. “Check your compass and keep that heading. You'll sail right into the mouth of the cove in two and a half hours. Get a blanket for your father and something to put under his head. Don't move him until the doctors look at him. You radio me when you reach the cove.”

“Yes, sir,” Ivan said, and in another five minutes the trawler was moving away and we were turning in the direction Popov indicated.

We couldn't move too fast or it caused Mr. Aleksa more pain. It was nearly three hours before we entered the cove. Ivan eased the boat next to the dock and a half dozen warehouse employees were there to catch the line and make sure the boat was situated for the stretcher to take Mr. Aleksa off the boat.

Popov had called and talked to someone in charge at the warehouse, and he'd made sure there was going to be no delay getting Mr. Aleksa the help he needed.

Kenny took charge of unloading the fish and getting the boat docked where it belonged afterward.

The closest hospital was in Fort Myers. It took forever to get there and then we sat for two hours to get word on Mr. Aleksa's condition. When we did see him, he was in traction and had a cast on one leg that was broken in the fall.

The doctor told Ivan that he would likely be out of commission for two months or more. When we got to the house next to the river, Popov was sitting at the kitchen table waiting to hear the news. Ivan gave him the story as told to him by the doctors.

Popov listened carefully and didn't speak until Ivan was finished.

“We'll keep the boat working,” Ivan said. “School's out Wednesday next week. We'll take the boat out six days a week. That's what Dad would do if he didn't come in to attend to us each week.”

“You'll be following me. I know where the fishing grounds are and when the fish run. You stick with me and we'll see to it your father has no worries except for healing.”

“Yes, sir. I'd appreciate that. Kenny knows the operation but I don't think he's prepared to drive the boat. Dad's taught me and with a little practice, I'll get good at it.”

“No worry. We'll do fine. I'll make sure you're treated fair. You didn't wait for the payoff for your fish. I picked it up for you,” Popov said, dropping a roll of bills onto the table. “I had the boat refueled and you're ready to go. Here's the invoice. I paid it out of today's earnings. I'll be back for you Wednesday afternoon. Then, we'll go out and return together. I'll keep you safe, Ivan.”

“Thanks!” Ivan said. “The best thing I can do is work the boat for Dad.”

I wasn't comfortable in Popov's presence. He was a no nonsense kind of a guy, but I had a question I could keep contained.

“How did you know we'd hit the cove if we went into the direction you indicated?” I asked. “You didn't even check and we ran right into the cove.”

Popov laughed heartily. He patted my back as he stood to leave.

“You sail as long as I've sailed, you always know where you are and you always know where home is. You'll see. No trick. You know.”

“That's amazing,” I said, and he laughed again.

“When I come to this country, your grandfather taught me where the fish were and how to bargain. I did that for your father and now I'll do it for his son.”

“I feel like I'm in good hands,” Ivan said, and Popov patted his back.

Popov was a man of his word. Once school was out, his trawler was anchored beside the Vilnius Two, waiting for us to come to work. We steamed out of the cove on Wednesday afternoon and returned late on Monday.

We'd taken care of our nets ninety percent of the time, but twice, when we were into some major schools of fish, Popov sent us an extra hand to help. By Monday evening, when we got to the fish warehouse, our holds were three quarters full.

Popov ordered us to the dock first, positioning his boat behind ours. He went into the fish warehouse after inspecting our holds. He intended to do the bargaining. Ivan had no objections. When the holds were empty, Popov came back with a handful of twenty dollar bills. He put them in Ivan's hand.

“You boys tell Nicky that you're in good hands and we brought you back with a boatload of fish,” Popov said, laughing as he waved Ivan away from the dock and waved his boat into place.

As quick as we reached the house, the radio was crackling.

“Jesus, we just left the boat. Who's that?” Ivan said, as we raced up to check the radio.

“Dinner's about to go on the table,” Pop said. “You two get down here. Mama isn't taking no for an answer tonight.”

Actually, we were starved and so tired we hadn't bothered to stop by the store. We were going to the hospital Tuesday and we'd shop on the way home. We were due back on the boat Wednesday morning to follow Popov out on the next journey into the gulf.

Neither Ivan or I did any preparation. We were too tired to spend a lot of time primping.

Mama was waiting when we came in the back door.

“My men are home from the sea,” she said, and she indicated we should follow her.

When I followed Ivan into the dining room, it was decorated with a big Happy 16 banner hung from the ceiling. I'd missed my birthday on Saturday, but Mama never forgot such things.

“I didn't even remember I turned sixteen,” I said.

“You were engaged in a good endeavor,” Pop said. “Your dad is fine, Ivan. I saw him Sunday. He's still in a lot of pain but they say he should be fine once his ribs heal.”

“Thank you. We're going over tomorrow,” Ivan said. “We forgot to shop for food. You don't know how welcome one of your meals is, Mrs. Olson.”

“Nothing is too good for my working men,” Mama said, beginning to move the food onto the table.

I was falling asleep by the time we got to cake and ice cream. Seeing our condition, Pop drove us around to the house next to the river. I was sleeping by the time we got to Ivan's. It only took ten minutes to get there by road.

*****

There was no mention of my driver's license. I didn't need one as far as I was concerned, although Ivan let me drive to or from the grocery store when we went. It was cool, once I mastered the clutch. Ivan reminded me how important it was for both of us to be able to drive, which included the boat, once we'd gotten accustomed to our new role, being in charge of the Vilnius Two. I learned the controls of the boat and how to operate the nautical gear so I knew where we were and where we were going.

Kenny was Kenny. There were no objections to us bypassing him and taking over the controls of the boat he'd worked on for years. I don't think he wanted that responsibility, although Ivan knew Kenny could do anything we did and probably do it better. He had nothing to say about it. We'd done what needed to be done and so did he.

Working six days a week made the summer fly. Mr. Aleksa came home and stayed there until mid-August, when he was able to regain control of the boat.

The first day home he sat at the kitchen table, his cast propped up on one of the chairs. Ivan put a stack of bills, all marked paid in full, on the table next to his father's arm.

“That's everything we spent, including food, Kenny's cigarettes, and soda. Mrs. Olson fed us while we were on the boat. She packed a basket for us each week.”

“Your mother is a marvelous woman,” Mr. Aleksa said. “I'd like to pay her for the food you consumed while working the boat.”

“Don't you even mention it if you value your life. Mama wouldn't have it any other way. Pop either,” I said. “At times like these we all pull together.”

“Yes, I'm sure, but they are such good people.”

Ivan then brought out the metal box from the freezer, where Mr. Aleksa kept his extra cash. When he flipped it open, his eyes widened as big as saucers.

“What's all this?”

“Well, to tell the truth, Dad, Popov did all the bargaining. We stuck with him and he went into the warehouse while they off loaded our fish. This is all that money except for those bills. I didn't ask any questions. It seemed like he was giving me a lot of money,” Ivan said.

“Popov!” Mr. Aleksa said. “He fished with your grandfather. He adored your Pop Pop. When I took the boat, he showed me the ropes. He's a wonderful man.”

“He did the same for us, Dad. When we hit an extra large catch, he sent a man or two over to help us with the nets. He stayed close every time we went out,” Ivan said. “I didn't worry because I knew he was right there if we hit a snag.”

“This is way too much. Kenny?”

“All he wanted was money for cigarettes and soda. We left him what food was left in the basket and he didn't ask for anything else. He was worried about keeping the boat on a profitable basis.”

“You and Clay didn't take your pay,” Mr. Aleksa said. “This is way more money than you could have made in six weeks.”

“It wasn't about pay,” I said. “I wanted to be sure the boat was working for you and the bills were paid.”

“All well and good, Clay, and I thank you for your loyalty, but a man works for me, he takes his pay. I'll figure out what I owe you, but I can't repay your value to me at a time like this. You'll have to take my thanks for that.”

“Yes, sir. I did what I needed to do, Mr. Aleksa.”

“It wasn't about pay for me. This is my responsibility when you can't answer the call, Dad. This is our boat and when you can't fish any longer, I'll be going out. Pay isn't an issue or something I worry about.”

Mr. Aleksa listened and looked at the box full of twenty dollar bills. I could see the emotion on his face. He was a quiet man who didn't give much away, but as proud as he was, he was moved by our devotion to him.

During the following week, which was the week before he returned to the boat and Ivan and I returned to school, Mr. Aleksa handed me an envelope.

“After the bills were paid, and I figured out the coming expenses, I calculated what you'd earned since June, Clay. Once again I want you to know the pay has nothing to do with your value to me. This is strictly a business calculation. I trust you won't argue with me on it.”

“No, sir. I won't argue,” I said, putting the envelope in my back pocket, before making my trip to the bank on top of the fridge.

“What is that?” Mama asked, as I put the jar on the kitchen table and rolled up the bills in the envelope to fit into it.

“My pay for the summer,” I said. “I didn't want it but Mr. Aleksa wasn't going to allow me to give it to him.”

“It's a kind thought, Clayton, but when a man works, he should be paid. How much did you earned?”

“I don't know. Too much!” I said. “I'd do it for free. I'd pay him to go out on the Vilnius Two. It's an adventure, Mama.”

Mama took the jar from me and set it back on the table to count the latest deposit. She straightened out the roll and took the bills off one at a time.

“Twenty-five twenty dollar bills. Five hundred dollars,” she said.

“Way too much,” I said.

“You've got over a thousand dollars with this money.”

“Cool,” I said, having only spent money out of the jar at Christmas that year and for Ivan's birthday present.

*****

As school began again, I felt even older than before. My classmates seemed like kids. Time had flown by that summer and it aged me in a way I didn't feel I'd aged before.

Mr. Aleksa gave us September off. We started going out on Fridays in October. Our new school routine was established and I had caught up on my sleep. I felt like I was missing something when I wasn't going out to fish each week.

Ivan and I spent all the time we could together. Even after school started, I slept at Ivan's. Nothing was said about it. My concession became that I slept at the conservancy house when Ivan was in Tampa. I didn't mind that. I was with Ivan at all other times. There was a certain advantage to being called a working man.

It was difficult to consider life changing at a time when it was just the way I wanted it. As fast as we were growing up, I was sure it meant more independence. Ivan and I grew closer each day. The summer of responsibility aged us in a confidence kind of way. We'd both be ready to work the boat when Mr. Aleksa wanted to retire.

*****

We were charging toward seventeen. There were no visible obstacles to slow us, if you didn't count the frequency of Ivan's trips to Tampa. His mother wanted him in Tampa more often. Boris brought him back after a few days in most instances. Each reunion was grand.

He was almost seventeen and his mother wasn't in the driver's seat anymore. When Ivan went to Tampa, he stayed until he was ready to come home, and he came home. We were working men and we were due some respect.

I could even quit school if I wanted a donnybrook with my parents, but I didn't. We were too close not to graduate, and school was no more than a minor inconvenience.

We'd come of age in the gulf over the summer. We'd matured far beyond our years, while keeping the Vilnius Two making a profit. Ivan and I were together most of the time.

Our lives were good and we intended to keep them that way.

*****

Chapter 23

'Click'

It was the day before Thanksgiving when Boris next came to take Ivan to Tampa. Ivan traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, which he intended to spend with me this year. He'd made this arrangement with his mother on the visit just before school started. Ivan was almost a man and he knew where he wanted to be.

Being at home for turkey day wasn't the hardship it might have been at other times of the year. I didn't like being away from Ivan, but I liked Thanksgiving. I enjoyed turkey and turkey sandwiches as much as I liked any food. Even my family was easier to be around.

Being at home on the day the huge golden bird decorated our table, assured I'd get my fill. I could drowned my sorrow in turkey, mashed potatoes, candied yams, and Mama's smooth as silk turkey gravy that went over everything, except the pies and cakes.

Ivan would be home Saturday if he could talk Boris into bringing him back. The day after Thanksgiving I'd have the house to myself. Pop, John-Henry, and Brian would be on the Sanibel beaches. The kids were off and the temperatures were up.

Teddy would be stocking shelves at work and Mama and Lucy would be doing their best to empty those shelves in a mother-daughter bonding experience that was scheduled to last all day.

Thank goodness for leftovers. Dinner was always ready the day after Thanksgiving. It didn't make my separation from Ivan any easier, but with food on my mind, Ivan wasn't on it.

I planned to sleep in on my first weekend off since September and I let everyone know it. I'd have a turkey sandwich for breakfast and maybe one for lunch. I'd return to Ivan's long before the Olson clan gathered at the table next. As busy as everyone was, I didn't think anyone would notice my absence.

I was careful not to mention when Ivan's return. The plan was for him to get away as soon as possible, if he could do it without jeopardizing the deal on Christmas.

Mr. Aleksa didn't know any more than I did, and he'd be having Thanksgiving dinner with Kenny and a dozen other fisherman at J.K's. Kitchen. It was an annual event the owner gave for his best customers on a day he'd otherwise be closed.

Ivan thought he'd be back sometime Saturday. That was if his mother didn't hatch some plan that kept him longer.

I was in my bed Wednesday night and I'd be there Thursday night, which was a lot since the school year began. I went to school from Ivan's and two days a week Mr. Aleksa took us and picked us up, which was fine with my parents. An adult appeared to be present.

While I was making plans for my return to Ivan's, Ivan was doing some planning of his own. With Boris and his mother going to Miami for the Friday night fights, Ivan let it be known he wasn't going. His mother wanted to stay in Miami Friday night, and drive to Key West on Saturday, returning to Tampa Sunday.

Boris and Ivan were delighted to go to their mother's girlfriend's house for Thanksgiving dinner. By the time they returned home, the plan for the Miami trip was revealed. Ivan insisted on going home. Had I known what was going on in Tampa, I'd have gone to bed at Ivan's house Thursday night, but I didn't know, and being full of turkey, I fell asleep in my own bed.

Because of the way Thanksgiving unfolded at my house and in Tampa, I wasn't in Ivan's bed when he arrived home. That wasn't OK with him. We'd bonded more completely that summer, while keeping the Vilnius Two operating.

We were about as close as we could get by the time school started. We were anxious for each school day to end, so we could find a place to kiss and hug, but we resisted the urge to hold hands on our way home.

We both felt the love between us building, since the falling out the day Boris first came. It was harder being away from each other. His mother, like my parents, needed reassurance that we were OK, but each time we were apart, the reunion was more passionate.

We'd agreed that we weren't going to get in any deeper, until we were both ready to make that leap. Mostly until I thought I was ready. Ivan was waiting for me. When the subject came up, he always said, “We're in no hurry.”

I needed to get beyond the thought of having sex and have it.

Now my problem was in not being able to tell him I was ready.

*****

I sat with my family in the den, eating turkey sandwiches, guzzling milk, and enjoying Mama's sumptuous lemon cake, until about ten o'clock, when my appetite gave out and I ran out of steam. I usually went to bed early when I was home.

When Ivan arrived home, discovering his bed was empty, he knew where to find me, and he wasn't spending another night without me. While I felt the same way when I went to bed, there was nothing I could do about it. Tampa was too far.

These circumstances created the first visit Ivan made to my bed in the conservancy house. He knew which room was mine. He knew how to get to it without alerting my entire family that he'd come to sleep with me.

What could possibly go wrong with a plan like that?

*****

When Ivan slipped into my bed, I couldn't be sure it wasn't a dream. In Ivan's absence, I always dreamed we were together. If this was a dream, it turned into a dream come true. Out of the cobwebs I felt Ivan's arms around me. I smelled him, felt his kisses on my neck, just like he was really there. It was my best dream ever.

When I pivoted in my bed to meet his lips with mine, the way I always dreamed I did, this time he didn't disappear. His mouth, his tongue, his body thrust lustily against mine. Our mutual arousal became a source of greater passion as they rubbed. We created a luxurious heat I'd never known before.

Did I mention I was ready?

In my dreams the Ivan I kissed disappeared, my arms came up empty, and my hand didn't grasp anything that throbbed but thin air, until now. Did he ever throb, moan, and fill my hand with more gristle than I imagined.

Our mouths were lost in a perpetual kiss. I awoke to being completely alive with passion. Our arms were wrapped around each other. We held on tight. Our legs intertwined in a hot tangle

of smooth muscled flesh.

Our bodies were locked in a mix of arms, legs, and skin lavishly commingling in a most exciting embrace. There was no beginning of one of us or ending of the other. We'd become a jumble of limbs, lips, and skin that represented the love we shared.

Where we could touch, we did touch. Each move brought me a new thrill, without having any desire to get apart. Everything we did was the most exciting thing we'd ever done.

It surprised me when he responded to me the same way I responded to him. For the first time it wasn't me following him. We dove into love together.

I didn't need to tell Ivan I was ready. My body spoke for me. The message was clear from the time his body slid up against mine. I waited for fear of getting in over my head. Once I made the plunge, I was deliriously in love with love, not to mention Ivan.

The on button for my lust and passion was pressed. The idea of finding an off switch never came to mind. We were doing the most incredible thing I'd ever done and I never wanted to stop.

As quick as our throbbing passion rubbed in harmony, there was a dance they did, rubbing, pressing, sliding, and finally those slippery suckers wet the way to a delirious intensity that finally unlocked our lips to use as pathfinders to undiscovered joy.

If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. Instead of Ivan evaporating, he was hard to miss. Hands, mouths, and super inflamed passion for each other couldn't be avoided or denied now.

We'd embarked on a journey that gave up most of our secrets to the other that night. We may have gone farther had someone thought to make the night longer, but we intended to use all the time we had.

My mouth was good for more than kissing. I used it to find each of Ivan's most sensitive spots on his exquisite body. Not to be outdone, Ivan's tongue discovered some places that ignited a desire that I was sure could drive me crazy.

He was the perfect lover, liking, licking, caring for me from my alerted ears to my tender toes. Turning me upside down, we found places deserving attention. No matter how strange a spot might seem at first, it was just right for licking once Ivan's tongue got there.

It was a vast exploration with discoveries I'd never have made without Ivan. We did the ballet of love, moving in concert, keeping the night alive with our desire.

With gentle kisses and a familiarity we'd never shared before, we began anew as though we weren't spent the first time around. My mouth finally found a place that stimulated him most of all. Once I found the spot, he was mine to do with as I pleased. With his body contorting and his hands holding me firmly in place, we rocked and rolled until he ignited in one lustful thrust and than another. Even then I refused to give up the most substantial sign of his love, until his unconditional surrender.

“That was amazing,” He said, once I released him to rest my jaws. “A-mazing!”

“I can do it again if you think you're up to it,” I said, teasing him over his slow decline.

“No! I think I need a minute. You should have let me do the same for you? It's more fun that way. We would finish together. That's when it's best.”

“Yes, but I was so excited over doing you, I'd have lasted ten seconds. It took you a while. When I go off, I need a half hour to reload on my best nights. Entertaining myself doesn't last long when I'm alone.”

“Is this one of your best nights?” Ivan inquired with a keen interest.

“With my hand as my only tool, I lose interest after one go round. With you I'll never stop if I pace myself. I want to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.”

“Then I'll do you. I owe you one. You know how to make me feel loved,” he said, bringing me up to kiss my lips.

“It comes naturally. Don't expect me to last as long as you. I've never been this turned on before. You excite me and you don't have to do a thing,” I said.

“Now you tell me. I was giving you the best I have,” he said.

“You didn't have to tell me that. I was getting it,” I said.

“The second time will take longer,” he said. “It'll be more fun.”

“You know a lot about this. You've been waiting for me, but you'd have done this last summer. I was ready too, but I didn't know how to tell you that I wanted to....”

“I didn't want to scare you, Clay. I almost let Boris.... I didn't do anything. I wanted you. This was good timing.”

“Is that the rest of the story, Ivan? That's why you were so upset the day Boris came? You saw we liked each other and you thought...? Boris is hot. I can see how hot you're going to be. I look at handsome men because I appreciate beauty, but there is only one man for me. I love you. After loving you, I'll never be able to love anyone else. You're my first love. You're going to be my last.”

He kissed me passionately.

It was one way to get my mind off the questions I asked. I knew the answer. It took me a while to put it together. Once Boris told me how much better Ivan was than him, and then I saw Boris and Kenny turned on to each other in the galley, it wasn't hard to imagine Ivan and Boris being naked in bed.

Boris began maturing and as close as they were, it was a short distance to the rest of the story.

I couldn't imagine it with any of my brothers, but I had no trouble imagining Ivan and Boris being turned on by each other. I wanted Ivan to know it didn't matter to me.

The idea of Ivan going on seventeen and never having sex wasn't believable. People were drawn to Ivan the same way they were drawn to Boris. I believed they were drawn to each other. Not that it mattered.

“I let him bring me home tonight with the intention of making love to you. I could have apologized tomorrow if I upset you. The looks you were giving me said you were ready. You've become such a handsome man in the last year. You're so much more confident.”

He kissed me again. He moved beyond my lips, kissing my neck, my chest, down my stomach. Down, down, down, he went, overheating my body.

A minute after he got where he was going, I experienced liftoff. As quick as his lips hit me, the, blast off was assured. I gritted my teeth, bit my tongue, dug my fingernails into his shoulders, and that bought me all of a minute.

It was then he found he had a tiger by the tail, as I gave him all I had, in more ways than one. With my hands on his head and my hips determined to give him all there was to give, he stayed with me long after I was so overpowered that time and space lost all meaning.

I soared with sea birds, dove with dolphin, and rose and feel with the gulf waters, riding on a perfect wave of love. It was the most incredible feeling in my life, and Ivan orchestrated it, as he would orchestrate all the best moments of my life.

Was I ever ready.

While we'd share about a million moments like this, none could quite live up to the first night when he took me as far as I could go.

If we'd waited until we were more matured, the wait was worth it. Ivan claimed my wait was his wait, because he loved me. H wanted our first time to be perfect, and it was. He was perfect.

Once we'd made love, our love was different, more intimate, more soulful. We loved at a depth our fishing nets couldn't reach. We loved in symphonies. We loved as the characters in great novels loved. We loved a never ending love.

Finding each other as boys, we loved each other as men.

That night, that first time we loved each other, from the time he slipped into the bed, until first light shone through my open double doors, we were in various stages of making love.

When first light told us it was morning, only then were we once again aware of time.

Even though our bodies had yet to receive the message, we'd exhausted every ounce of our energy. As young and alive as we were, we did have limits, though we wouldn't admit it that night.

I were certain we could stay there and make love forever. We wanted to stay there and make love forever.

We were sure our love would never die. It would be tested, stretched to its limits, but that first warm, gentle loving night was but the beginning of the rest of our lives together, although we wouldn't always be able to be together.

That world, the one out there beyond our beach, wasn't about to be ignored. It would have its way with us. It would force us apart, but we always came back to the beach and each other.

One factoid I can't avoid, love has its warm fuzzy tender side to it, but our love is as tough as steel with the endurance of the stars. Nothing in my life could come close to having the power my love for Ivan has, and he says the same about his love for me.

Perhaps one thing does compare. The love I have for my son Dylan runs as deep and it has proved as enduring as my love for Ivan, and perhaps more so, because Dylan hasn't had the opportunity to leave me yet. Ivan has left our beach, but has always returned to the beach and the man he loves.

It's too complicated to go into on the same night Ivan and I first made love to each other. The night we established we were in love, and always would be.

Nothing could take the luster off that rose; well, almost nothing.

******

As great as it was, there was a downside to the night, and it wasn't simply the morning, when we physically weren't capable of making love any longer. That was cured with a little rest. The place where we first made love wasn't the safest place to do it.

My house was always full of people and having Ivan in my bed, with so many beds in the house, would be difficult to explain. I thought of this about the time we started to make love. Had I not been in Ivan's arms with his lips on mine, I'd have known better.

After we'd worn ourselves down with a lust that at times seemed like it might never subside, we could have gotten up and gone to Ivan's, but we didn't. The thought was there at times, when we lingered together, after using up the night and peacefully surrendered to exhaustion.

I ended up in one of my favorite positions, my head leaning against his chest, his fingers feeling my hair. It was then we could have jumped up to go to Ivan's before my family woke up.

“It's getting daylight,” I said, before he found my lips with his. “Someone might come to my room. Pop opens my door some mornings to check on me before he goes to work.”

“Work? It's Thanksgiving holidays. No work, handsome.”

“It's been in the eighties. The beaches are jammed. John-Henry and Brian are both working with Pop today.”

“I'll stay awake,” Ivan said. “If he opens the door, I'll hear the knob. I have 20-20 hearing, you know,” he bragged before he kissed me again and again. “I'll slip out of sight if I hear him coming.”

“It wouldn't be good for them to know we're lovers,” I said.

“We've been lovers fifteen minutes. There's a grace period on this kind of thing. We don't have to worry about being caught for three days. It's the law. At least it's a rule,” Ivan explained.

“Well, I'll have to trust you,” I said, leaving it up to Ivan.

I didn't know how my parents would take us sleeping together.

“We've been sleeping together forever, Clay. We haven't been caught yet,” Ivan reasoned.

“We've been sleeping In your bed. We're sleeping in my bed. Pop does open this door.”

“Tell me to leave and I'll leave,” he said, kissing me more passionately.

He knew I wasn't letting go of him but he kept kissing me just in case.

“You promise me you'll stay awake and I'll stop worrying.”

“Oh, I'll stay awake. It'll be fine. You don't know how much I missed you. Don't make me go home, Clay,” he pleaded, having tried everything else.

We kissed some more.

“I'll go if you tell me to leave,” he said. “You can come with me.”

He wanted to leave as much as I wanted him to leave.

“I don't want you to leave. Let me rest my eyes a few minutes. I'm really really tired,” I said. “We'll go to your house in a few minutes.”

“OK, I'll stay awake. We'll get up in a few minutes and go to my house,” he said, kissing me again.

“Yes, I need a few minutes. You stay awake. Get under the covers if you hear someone coming. He doesn't come in.”

“Got it. Go ahead and rest your eyes. I'm on guard,” he said.

*****

It didn't take long for me to realize there was something wrong. I was facing the double doors and Ivan had his arms around me. His face was against the back of my neck lips first. It was no different than any morning when I woke up in his arms. Maybe it was a little different.

I remember we were talking and then I'm blinking my eyes and looking through the double doors at the mid-morning sunlight on the beach. The sun has to rise above the treetops at the front of the house before it can shine on the beach. That didn't happen until after ten in the morning. I could be dreaming.

But the sunshine wasn't the most alarming thing. There was a sound that penetrated the cobwebs in my mind.

'Click.'

The worst part, in my limited capacity to think, I knew what the sound was.

Blinking my eyes, I prayed I was dreaming. It was the sound my door made when carefully closed. When it latched, there was a click no matter how careful you were.

I sat straight up in bed and looked at the door.

I calculated it was the sound of my door opening that originally began waking me. I felt a presence in my room. As quick as I stirred, there was the click.

Someone had been in my room, saw me waking, backed out, carefully closing the door.

'Click'

My heart was racing.

What should I do?

Jump up, run to the door naked, and tell whoever it was, 'it wasn't what it looked like,' but it was exactly what it looked like. I was in the arms of my lover and someone in the conservancy house knew.

“Wake up, Ivan,” I said. “It's tomorrow.”

It was one of my more brilliant observations, but I couldn't face this alone. I was afraid to tell him, but I wanted him awake.

“I am awake,” he said, failing to open his eyes or look awake.

“Ivan, wake up,” I said again, looking at the door. “You said you'd stay awake. You went to sleep.”

“Fooled you didn't I. You don't believe everything I say, do you? You've got a lot to learn, Huck. I didn't sleep last night, ...or was it the night before? I guess if it's tomorrow, it was the night before yesterday. You didn't want me to leave. I didn't want to leave. I merely said what I needed to say to help you out.”

I listened to the house. I didn't say anything about the door.

“Get up, Ivan. We need to go to your house,” I said.

“Yeah! Great idea. I can take a nap,” he said, trying to keep his eyes open.

I stepped out onto the landing outside of my door on the third floor. I listened.

Pop took both John-Henry and Brian with him because of the crowds on Sanibel's beaches. He wasn't going to be back until dinner. Teddy was stocking shelves at work for the shoppers. Mama and Lucy went shopping, intending to pick up a bargain or two and have lunch.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked, after he opened my bedroom door.

“Nothing.”

“Anyone home?”

“Yes, no, I don't know.”

“Glad you cleared that up. Let's go. I don't want to fall asleep on the way. My bed is way more comfortable than yours, Huck.”

I followed Ivan out through the double doors and onto the porch. We took the steps at the side of the house, crossing the backyard. We walked up the beach away from my house. Once we were almost half way, I stopped. Ivan stopped and he turned to look at me.

“What's up, Doc?” he asked.

“I forgot to do something. You go ahead. I'll catch up in a few minutes,” I said, turning to walk back to the house. I had to know who was home. I had to know who knew.

I went into the kitchen, easing the door closed behind me. It didn't make a sound. I stood there for a minute, listening. I walked into the dining room and I stood there and listened. I went into the foyer where the staircase went up to the second and third floor.

I stood there to listen. It had been maybe ten minutes since I'd heard that click. I listened to hear if a vehicle started once we were outside. There was no such sound. Opening the front door, I saw the station wagon and Pop's truck were gone. John-Henry's car and Teddy's car were gone.

I returned to the stairs and listened for several minutes. If someone was in the house with me, he wasn't moving.

I went to the third floor, holding my bedroom door open, I looked at my empty bed. It appeared to have been struck by a tornado. I backed out of my room, easing the door closed ever so carefully.

'Click'

Someone had been in my room. They'd opened the door, stepped in, saw me in Ivan's arms, and backed out. As carefully as they closed the door, they didn't consider the sound the latch made.

Standing there. Considering it. I could feel the culprit freezing when the latch clicked. He stood here for a few seconds, listening to hear if the latch had disturbed us. He was gone by the time I opened the door.

Starting with the sewing room next to my room, I began opening doors, looking into each room. Each time I closed the door behind me, I stood and listened to hear if someone was in the house. After opening all the doors on the third floor, I went to each door on the second floor. I opened each door, stepped in, listened for some sign of life, and went to the next door.

When I was back on the ground floor, I stood looking up at all the empty rooms. I opened the door to the dining room, each closet door, the kitchen door, returning to the front door to check again to making sure there were no cars parked outsidee I might have missed the first time I looked.

I stared up at my door from the foyer below.

Someone in the conservancy house knew Ivan and I were lovers.

*****

Who opened my bedroom door?

Chapter 24

Holiday Cheer

Ivan and I slept much of the day after Thanksgiving. After our morning cereal, at about three o'clock that afternoon, I came clean.

“Someone saw us,” I said, not knowing how else to say it.

“Lucky them,” Ivan said, shoveling up Cocoa Puffs with all the enthusiasm of a cuckoo bird, 'Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.'

“I'm not kidding, Ivan. Someone was in my bedroom before we got up this morning,” I said again, not liking the way it sounded.

“You should try these. They're good,” he said, pouring more brown orbs into his cereal bowl.

“Somehow chocolate for breakfast seems sinful,” I said.

“What do we do? If someone saw us, why hasn't the roof fallen on us yet? Your father talks to my father every day,” Ivan said, scooping up cereal between syllables.

“I need to go face the music. If I stay away, it'll only make it worse. I don't want someone coming up here after me,” I said, worrying enough for both of us.

“We'll go together. The day after Thanksgiving should be a taste treat at the Olson table. Have I told you that you worry a lot. They wouldn't come for you, they'd simply radio you to come home.”

“Won't be any chocolate,” I said, watching him dig into a fresh bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

“I didn't waste time eating when I got home last night. After dinner yesterday afternoon, I didn't eat until right now, dude. Boris didn't get me home until midnight, and I went straight to your house. I'm hungry. So sue me. These are good. You should try them.”

“Glorified Kix. I used to eat them in Tulsa,” I said.

Leaning across the table, I kissed his chocolate lips.

“I've unleashed a monster,” he said, leaning to kiss me, once I sat back down. “If you won't come to the Cocoa Puffs, I'll bring them to you.”

For the first time since he began eating cereal, he forgot about the Cocoa Puffs. We decided we needed another nap. Dinner wasn't until seven and Ivan thought the four bowls of cereal would hold him. He didn't want to spoil his appetite for dinner.

*****

We agreed we'd go to dinner together. I expected the worst. Ivan had no expectations beyond one of Mama's meals. He wasn't convinced by my account of the event.

Mostly I was going on a sound I may or may not have dreamed. I had to admit I was half asleep when I heard the click and I was going on a feeling that someone was in the room with us. I didn't see anyone and the house was empty when I searched it.

In spite of Ivan's doubts, I heard the click and felt the presence in the room with us. Someone had seen us.

I lead the way into the kitchen this time. Mama was at the stove. She turned, smiled, stood on her tiptoes to kiss me and then she kissed Ivan on the cheek.

“How are my fishermen today?” Mama asked cheerfully. “We missed you yesterday, Ivan.”

“Better since I got here,” Ivan said, sniffing the pan with the gravy. “Oh, Mrs. Olson, you don't know how good that smells.”

“Did you have a nice dinner yesterday?” Mama asked.

“Yes, we ate at my mother's girlfriend's. We had oyster dressing. Sounds gross but I packed away what I was served and went back for more. It was delicious.”

“Oysters in dressing?” Mama said thoughtfully. “I'll have to try that. We all like oysters. Not a plentiful food in Oklahoma.”

“I can ask my mother to get the recipe for you,” Ivan offered.

“Yes, do that. We may have turkey at Christmas,” Mama said.

“If that's an invitation, I accept,” Ivan said smiling at Mama.

“You don't need an invitation. Any friend of Clay's is a friend of mine,” Mama said happily. “Didn't Clay say you're staying with us Christmas Eve?”

“That's the plan, Mama,” I said. “He's not had a Christmas morning with a big family before.”

I lead the way into the dining room to test the waters there.

“Told you,” Ivan said as we left the kitchen behind.

“Hi Pop. How's the beach?” I asked.

“Crowded. John-Henry and Brian are still out there. They sent me home so I can be on the beaches early tomorrow. They'll come out around noon and stay until dark. I've never seen such crowds.”

“Did you leave one of them here this morning?” I asked.

“No, the split shift was John-Henry's idea at lunch. If we've got to be there until dark, he thought I should go out early before the people start coming. They'll sleep in and come later and stay late. They've been out there since before eight this morning. We left here before seven.

“Told you,” Ivan said to me. “Worrywart.”

“Hey, Lucy,” I said, as she entered from the foyer. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Hi, Clay. Didn't expect you back today,” she said, passing me by to hug Ivan. “Hi, Ivan. I missed you yesterday.”

Ivan hugged her and touched her brilliantly red hair.

“Sorry, Luce, my mother insisted I be in Tampa. Believe me, I'd rather have been here with you guys. Clay's right. You're looking more lovely all the time. I love your hair. You're quite the young lady.”

Ivan kissed her on the cheek and Lucy blushed big time.

“We playing cards after dinner, Clay?” she asked.

She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug, At first I sensed she was being cool toward me, but she always went to Ivan first, when he was with me. He did have that effect on people.

“If Ivan will sit still for it, I'm in for a few hands of Canasta?”

“You're on. I haven't beaten you at Canasta in ages,” she said. “you're hardly ever around, you know. We used to play all the time.”

“I'm a working man,” I said. “I don't have that much time, Lucy.”

“I'm your sister. You make time for me,” she said, scolding me.

“Yes, I should,” I agreed, knowing my excuse didn't hold water.

My sister was growing up and she was going to be a heart breaker. I spent all my time with Ivan and it wasn't fair to her.

As nice as it was not to be confronted about sleeping with my boyfriend, it was unsatisfying. Someone at the conservancy house knew the truth about Ivan and me. Could it have been Teddy? John-Henry took his car to work. Did he come home? Brian would have broadcast it to the free world, and the commies if he knew how.

Ivan said I dreamed it and I worried too much. I knew someone knew about us, even if I did worry too much.

*****

My visits home for dinner increased between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I thought about how each person greeted me. Any change would indicate who opened my bedroom door that morning, but I sensed no change in anyone. Did I dream it?

My bet was still on Pop. He's the one who had a habit of opening the door, but the conservancy truck had a distinctive sound. If he'd been there and left, I'd have heard the truck drive away. The more I looked, the less I knew. Pop would have told Mama and Mama wasn't one to allow heathenism in her house.

Mama didn't know.

Mama still greeted me as her fisherman home from the sea. Pop still bragged about what Ivan and I did for Mr. Aleksa the previous summer. John-Henry, when he came home for dinner, did more eating than talking. Teddy never changed. Brian was oblivious to everything but the food. Lucy still wanted me to stay for cards or a board game and she told me about what she was doing at school. I didn't give her the time she deserved, but I stayed more often. Ivan didn't mind.

Coleen was rarely there and she'd never come to my room. Escaping the house full of men was Coleen's greatest joy. When she did appear, it was as brief, but none of us noticed.

It was half way between Thanksgiving and Christmas, just before 1967 began. I'd come in the kitchen door, doing my impression of Sherlock Holmes. I had Ivan in tow. He ignored my worrying.

I asked on the way back to his house, “Who do you think it was?”

“It was old man Broadmore come to haunt your ass,” Ivan said in an unfriendly answer. “Get over it, Clay. If no one has said anything, they aren't going to. It may as well be Broadmore or maybe the door wasn't completely latched, and a breeze closed it.”

I knew what I knew. I couldn't let it go. Someone knew and I wasn't going to rest easy until I knew who.

*****

One night over pork chops, dressing, minus the oysters, green beans, and squash, Pop took center stage to tell a story that grabbed my interest immediately.

“You remember me going to the island Sunday, Mother?” Pop asked, breaking the silence right before dessert time.

It became obvious why Pop waited to say his piece. This wasn't an easy topic to bring up around Mama. Pop knew to tread lightly.

“I do. I don't approve of them calling you to work on the Sabbath,” Mama said curtly.

“There was a beached dolphin. I went out to see what could be done about the poor creature. I am in charge of rescue and disposal. I can't very well say, 'my wife doesn't approve of me working Sunday.' The conservancy pays my salary. It puts this roof over our heads, Mother.”

“What happened to the dolphin?” I asked, worrying about it, and seeing a way to bail out Pop.

“It beached itself on the beach John-Henry mentioned to get Brian's goat last year. Because of the heat, people are there from early in the morning and the dolphin needed to be removed.”

Brian looked up from his plate as Pop talked. Mama's attention sharpened at mention of the nude beach. I'd forgotten there was a nude beach, having one of my own.

“Funniest thing. The people who swim without benefit of swim wear had sense enough to cover the dolphin with towels. Several women went back and forth from the water with containers of water. They were pouring the water on the towels. I was told that this kept the creature from burning up in the sun,” Pop said.

“While the women kept the dolphin's skin moist, the men were digging a trench from the dolphin to the gulf. There were four fellows, who'd figured out a means to rescue it. I'd never have thought of it,” Pop said.

Once the trench was dug, the four men moved the dolphin into the trench. Several inches of water had seeped into it by then. The dolphin didn't resist being moved.”

“It may have been in shock,” Teddy said.

“At this point the man directing the rescue opened the trench to the gulf. The water flooded in around the dolphin. I thought it was rather clever engineering. Until then I wasn't sure the thing was alive, but its tail began moving and the dolphin seemed to realize that these men were trying to assist it and it didn't struggle.

“After using the trench to float the dolphin back into the gulf, the men walked it into deeper water, taking the towels off as the water got deeper. Once the water was around their shoulders, they stopped, holding the dolphin just high enough for it to breathe.

“The dolphin remained relatively still for a few minutes. Even sitting in the truck a few hundred feet away, I could see the thing reviving. It didn't seem overly stressed. It simply tested its ability to swim, moving twenty feet away from where the men stood.”

“Far out,” Teddy said, in an unusual display of emotion for him.

I thought of the marlin and how good it felt when it revived, after we'd put it back into the gulf. I felt good about Pop's story, but he hadn't gotten to the purpose of the tale yet.

“As I said, it seemed aware it was getting help to get back where it belonged. Once it tested its ability to swim, it turned to circle where the four men stood watching it. It came within a couple of feet of them. Once it made one circle around the men, it swam away.”

“These were the naked people saving that fish?” Brian asked, putting it all into perspective in case someone was asleep.

“Those naked people knew what to do to save that dolphin. I'd have shaken my head and made arrangements to collect the carcass. Luckily I didn't need to be involved. I got to watch smarter people than me save the creature. Now I know what to do in that situation.”

“They did a good thing,” I said, liking the sounds of it.

“Dolphins are smart,” Teddy said. “They have bigger brains than humans. Here's living proof.”

Teddy patted Brian's back, confusing him.

“They're fish,” Brian said without catching on. “What does a fish need a brain for? They swim and they eat. This one didn't swim very well by the sound of it.”

“Yes, and that's one more thing than you do, Brian. You only eat,” Teddy said, filling in for John-Henry and criticizing Brian.

“They're mammals,” I corrected, having looked into it.

“What are?” Brian asked.

“A dolphin belongs to the mammal family,” I explained.

“Where does that family live?” Brian asked.

“Get a grip, Brian,” Teddy said unkindly.

“As I was saying,” Pop said. “That naked beach,” he hesitated to look at Mama. “Is where the dolphin beached itself. I didn't get any closer than the parking lot, because I didn't need to, but a crowd gathered. When I saw the man with the big camera, I got out of the truck, thinking this wasn't a good idea on that beach.”

“He took pictures?” Brian asked.

“I had on my uniform shirt. He knew who I was and why I was approaching him.”

“I'm AP. I heard about this on my CB. Makes a nice human interest story. They won't use any picture they can't make presentable for the readers of the Fort Myers paper where I work.”

“I'm not sure you aren't violating privacy taking those pictures,” I said, not liking the idea. “He gave me a card and said I could lodge a protest at the Fort Myers' paper. He took pictures of the rescue from the time they moved the dolphin into the trench.”

“Why not?” Brian asked. “I'd like to see them.”

“Brian, keep your impure thoughts to yourself,” Mama said.

“I radioed the conservancy, but no one answered. I wasn't going to physically restrain the guy. That isn't my job. Anyway, he took pictures. He said it was a human interest story. Twenty cars had come since I got there and there were dozens of people watching.”

“More of a fish interest story,” Brian said, unable to help himself.

“They're heathens, John. Being photographed might make them think twice about strutting around naked, and let me remind you, divorce is the remedy for men who wander.”

“Mother, I have a point in mind if you'll allow me to get to it. It may give you second thoughts about photographing the people on that beach.”

“Never! They should be photographed. Serves those heathens right.”

“Mother, I'd rather poke my eyes out than tell you what I'm about to tell you, but it can't be avoided. You may want to change your mind about bringing the wrath of God down on folks you don't approve of. Let me finish and you'll understand.”

“Not likely, John. The wrath of God is too good for the likes of them.”

“Knowing how you feel, I'd never have brought it up if not for John-Henry. My love for you is without exception. When would I have time, or the energy, to stray, my love? No, I have no interest in that beach or anyone on it, beyond the event I just described.”

“John-Henry?” Brian said, being the one to pick up on his name.

“I'm listening, John Henry,” Mama said in her most in command voice. “I must say, I thought talk about that particular beach had been concluded at this table. Now you may finish.”

“John-Henry?” Brian repeated.

“I wasn't going to say anything, but the photographer being there changed my mind. Whatever you want to call it, the man directing that rescue was your eldest son, John-Henry Olson. I was as shocked as you are. I saw that Sarah-Lee girl he's dating. Needless to say I saw more than I wanted to see of Sarah-Lee.”

“John-Henry?” Mama stuttered uncertain. “Our John-Henry on that beach?”

“I knew he had something going on that beach,” Brian said. “He won't let me get near it. He's a dog.”

“Go John-Henry,” Teddy said. “He's my brother. Totally cool. He saved that dolphin, Pop?”

“One and the same?” Pop said.

“Since your son was directing the rescue, he is at the center in most of the pictures. When I say he, I mean all of him. It's why I was so alarmed by that photographer. I am not looking forward to seeing pictures of my naked son in the Fort Myers paper.”

“We're all naked under out clothes,” Lucy defended.

“Yes, and most of us have sense enough to keep our clothes on,” Mama said.

“Because it was my son, one picture was too many for me, but the man had taken a roll of film by the time I got to him. He wasn't going to turn them over and going to jail over it didn't seem wise. One scandal in the family at a time is plenty,” Pop said.

“Our John-Henry? It may have been someone who looked like him. You said you stayed in the parking lot,” Mama calculated.

“Mother, I know John-Henry when I see him. It was our son. I didn't want you to find out about this at work and not be prepared.”

“Oh my God!” Mama said. “Work! I never thought of how this will go over at work. Oh John-Henry, how could you? I'll be ruined.”

This realization took the wind out of Mama's sails. I think it was here that all judgment and intervention by God was called off.

“They're bound to mention the nature of the beach, even if they block out the strategic areas of his anatomy. It's the kind of thing they can't resist. I thought it best you hear it from me before one of the girls at work starts showing those picture around.”

“Showing the pictures,” Mama gasped again. “Oh my God.”

“As I recall, you invited several girls from work to the annual conservancy picnic last summer. I recall John-Henry made quite an impression on some of them. You need to brace yourself.”

The beach where it happened aside, I was rather proud of my brother. Living next to the gulf had made us all more aware of the sea and the creatures living in it. I'd remember to thank John-Henry for saving the dolphin. I'd wait until after the furor over the pictures died down.

“With or without clothes, your son did a fine thing, Mama,” Teddy said. “The dolphin would have died if he hadn't saved it. It's the important part of the story. It's what will be said under the pictures.”

“I'm proud of him,” I said, and Ivan smiled at me, having no doubt that I was.

“Me too,” Pop said. “If it took him being on that beach to save that handsome creature, I'm proud he was there to do it. Wearing a bathing suit would have been good, but that's not how it was.”

“You haven't said anything to him about it?” Mama asked.

“Telling you is the only time I plan to mention it,” Pop said. “I waited until dinner so you'd let me get it all out.”

Mama considered this and didn't invoke the wrath of God being visited upon anyone. It was a good sign, but she wasn't happy about there being pictures.

“Everyone at the table who swims naked, raise your hand,” Teddy said, having his hand raised before he finished.

I raised mine. Ivan had his up. Brian hesitated before raising his hand. Mama was too busy processing John-Henry's escapade.

“It's Florida, Mama,” Teddy said. “When in Rome.... Most of the people reading that paper swim naked too.”

Swimming naked in front of Ivan's house was tame compared to John-Henry cavorting on the nude beach in mixed company. If the heat was ever on over our propensity to be without benefit of swim wear, it was just turned off forever.

“It's Florida, Mother,” Pop said. “He's doing what the locals do. What I mean is, if they're out there naked, well, we might be preparing for something more permanent, meaning with Sarah-Lee.”

“I won't have my children running around naked,” Mama said. “It's not natural.”

“I swim naked, Mama,” I said, dipping my toe into the heathen waters in support of my brother.

“You're a boy. It's different,” Mama declared, letting me off the heathen hook. “John-Henry's a grown man. He should know better. A photograph of my son with naked women. They'll love this at work. They were smitten with John-Henry at the picnic. I was so proud of him. He was a perfect gentlemen. Now this.”

“After work there are three of us who go skinny dipping if it isn't baking hot out,” Teddy said, determined to get his point across.

“Theodore George Olson, you keep your clothes on at all times from here forward,” Mama ordered as only Mama could. “I don't want to see pictures of you in the papers.”

“Going to make showering a mite difficult, Mama,” Teddy warned.

“Mother, it's 1966. You've got to keep up with the times. Our boys are almost men and the time when you could boss them around, and get your way on a thing like this, has passed. I think we're living in new times as well as in a new place. We can't hold onto the way it was in Tulsa. Times are changing.”

“Right-on,” Ivan said.

“When I mentioned that beach at the conservancy headquarters, they laughed. Half of them remembered swimming there. How do you tell lawyers and judges that they're heathens, Mother?” Pop asked, shaking his head. “No thank you. I smiled and hoped the subject never comes up again.

“I had to file a report on how the complaint was resolved. Everyone was waiting for me to finish so they could read it. It's not my cup of tea but I'm not risking my job trying to tell other folks how they should act. No siree. I need this job.”

Mama had nothing else to say on the subject. She was apprehensive about going to work for the next couple of weeks.

On the way home Ivan had a question for me.

“What did you name it?” He asked.

“The dolphin John-Henry rescued. You name everything,” he joked.

“I need to see it to name it,” I said, wondering what its name would be.

*****

Christmas came far faster than usual. Time seemed to fly by in 1966. We were bumping up against 1967 and I'd spent ten hours in my shop class creating Ivan's Christmas present. I got an A on design and creativity, but the only grade that counted was how Ivan's eyes lit up when he first opened the gift.

I broke into the bank on top of the fridge to buy presents for everyone. Mostly I wanted something special for Lucy and a parting gift for my brothers who were likely to be going out on their own soon, except for Brian. I wasn't sure he'd ever grow up.

Since coming to Florida Christmas at the Olson house was modest by design. Spending money on gifts was discouraged by our parents. This was the first Christmas that I felt comfortable to buy a present for each member of my family.

I risked my hand by taking money out of what Mama called my college fund, but I worked hard in 1966 and I made good money. I planned to spend some of it on the people I cared about. I didn't think I'd be home much longer either. I was barely home now.

After Thanksgiving, the plan was for Ivan to stay at my house Christmas Eve. I let it be known that he was sleeping in my room, where I knew he wouldn't be bothered.

No one even blinked over this news. At times like this I expected to figure out who opened the door to my bedroom the first time Ivan slept with me. Checking each face, there was no reaction whatsoever.

“Told you, worrywart,” Ivan said.

There was only the one bed in my room, which meant we were sleeping together. Things I thought might cause trouble rarely did. No one gave a second thought to Ivan sleeping with me, except me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, but I was in love with him.

Mama and Pop were both delighted to have Ivan celebrating Christmas with us. I'm not sure it wasn't Pop's idea. Mr. Aleksa was bringing Ivan's gifts over to put under our tree. Ivan would wake up to an Olson family Christmas, which could be pretty amazing.

Mr. Aleksa was spending time at our house on Christmas Eve and he'd agreed to come to dinner Christmas day.

Mama loved having Ivan over and treating him to something he didn't usually experience was fine with her. She planned the kinds of things that made a Christmas at our house special.

Pop saw trees in the conservancy house from when Mr. Broadmore owned it. One almost touched the bottom of the chandelier. Pop's tree in 1966 wasn't quite that tall, but it came close. It filled the foyer next to the staircase, under that ornate light.

The tree was decked out with every imaginable decoration. We were all encouraged to add our own touch to the great tree.

I'd never seen a more beautiful Christmas tree.

We made decorations. There were antique balls and ornaments we found in the attic. Mr. Aleksa brought a box of balls that came from Lithuania. We strung popcorn around and around the tree. The tinsel gave it a silver glow with the chandelier off. About a million lights under the decorations made the tree dazzle.

The tree was fabulous. Everyone who came in the front door stopped to take a good look. The entire board of directors at the conservancy came to see Pop's tree, after he showed pictures of it. A glass of Mama's eggnog came with their visit and everyone went away smiling.

The conservancy house belonged to the conservancy, but Pop made it his own that Christmas. No one objected to the care being taken with the house. The people at the conservancy hung a picture of Pop's tree beside the pictures of the trees in Mr. Broadmore's day.

On Christmas morning, Mama was already in the kitchen when Ivan and I came down. Pop was seated in a chair near the tree, and he handed each of us a present as his kids straggled downstairs. Everyone in the family but Coleen was in the house Christmas morning, and Santa left gifts for all of us.

When I gave Ivan his gift from me, he opened it carefully and put it on as quick as he saw what it was. One of the fisherman who came to assist us, when Mr. Aleksa was laid up, wore a peach symbol. I'd asked what it was. I liked the design. The message was clear. That's when I got the idea to make one for Ivan.

I'd found a silver chain to go with the silver I'd bought to fashion the simple design. I needed help from my shop teacher to get it right.

Once it was done, I engraved three words on the back. I made it so no matter which way you looked at the back, it said either, “Clay Loves Ivan,” or, “Ivan Loves Clay.”

Everyone wanted to see it and asked what the symbol meant. Teddy knew exactly what it was and he smiled when he held it. Ivan handed it around. No one turned it over to look at the back of it. I was prepared if someone asked me about the love deal.

I bought Mama two scarves for her hair, because she worried it baked in the sun. I got Pop a sign for his desk at work, “World's Best Pop.” I gave Lucy a diary with a heart and her name was across the heart. I bought John-Henry a pair of gigantic sunglasses with a note that read, 'For when the cameras are rolling.' He couldn't stop laughing. I gave Brian a half dozen of the comic books he liked.

I found a t-shirt with whales swimming on it. I wanted it for myself but I suspected Teddy would like it. He was quite pleased with it and put it on. The note read, “For the creatures we both love.”

I bought Coleen a book, because she read a lot. I bought several books for Ivan. He was always reading too and I didn't want to buy magazines. He always had the magazines he liked.

Mama was in rare form, cooking, baking, and creating enough food to feed an army. There was enough for Ivan and me to take plenty home with us.

It didn't last long.

*****

It was the weekend after Christmas and another overheated stretch of weather that had Pop, John-Henry, and Brian on the beach. Mama was going to help with meals at the local church to feed the elderly and poor. Lucy had said she might go along. Teddy was at work. I'd come down to take some of Ivan's gifts to his house and to see the tree again. It was awesome to look at.

Presents were still in boxes under the tree, which made it quite festive. I stood watching the tree once I switched on the tree lights.

I'd once again wandered each floor, listened to the house, and was no closer to solving the mystery of who opened my door. Ivan had said something that came back to me, as I caught a glimpse of the chandelier above the tree.

“Was it you, old man Broadmore? You playing with my head?” I asked indignantly. “Did you open my door?”

I saw someone over the top of the tree. The shadow moved on the landing and stopped in front of my bedroom door.

As my eyes adjusted, I could see it was my sister.

“Lucy?” I said. “I thought you went to church with Mama.”

“No, I stayed home. You looking for me, Clay?”

“No,” I said, baffled by the question before processing her words. Then the picture began to clear.

“You broke my heart, you know?” she said with a sob in her voice. “I was mad at you at first.”

“Lucy, I'd never hurt you. I adore you. What is it? I'll fix it.”

“That morning! I told Mama I wasn't going shopping. I wanted to stay home and be with my brother. When I opened the door, I was going to run in, jump on your bed, like I did when I was little.

“I saw you. Both of you. Ivan holding you. I told you, I wanted to marry Ivan when I grow up. I didn't know you felt the same way, but there you were in his arms. I closed the door right away.”

“It was you? Oh, Lucy, I'm so sorry.”

“I saw you searching, trying to find out who was home. I hid when you got to my room. I was mad. I wasn't going to tell you. I could see how it worried you. I've seen how you walk these floors like you might figure it out.

“I stayed home today to tell you. It was me. You can stop worrying. I'm OK now. It's OK. I think I understand.”

“Oh, Lucy,” I said, going up the two flights of stairs to hold her. My little sister wasn't so little any longer. She cried on my shoulder. In her hand was the diary I'd given her for Christmas. She liked to write. The diary was white with a red heart in the center of the cover. “Lucy” was embossed in gold across the red heart.

I wondered if this might be written in the diary at day's end.

The mystery was solved, but I didn't feel very good about how Lucy found out about Ivan and me. It was a lot of knowledge for a young girl to have.

My fear about who might have opened my door was gone. When I tried to explaining that what she knew could be dangerous, she cut me short.

“I'm not stupid, Clay. I know how the world is. I'll never say anything. It's no one's business. I just know by accident.”

*****

With the mystery solved I was ready to settle into Ivan's arms for New Years Eve. We'd be at his house to bring in the new year.

It would be 1967 soon and it was a good thing 1966 ended on a high note. The new year was going to be a bummer.

Chapter 25

Greetings

Peace and tranquility returned to our beach after Christmas. I no longer had anything to worry about. Ivan was fine with the idea of spending more time with Lucy. We rarely had plans to do much after eating dinner at my house, except to return to Ivan's. Staying to play cards or a board game was entertaining.

There was an unexpected benefit to the plan. I began reconnecting with the family I'd been separating from over the past two years. At times Mama, Teddy, and even John-Henry sat in on card games. The banter around the card table told me things I didn't know.

At nearly seventeen with my boyfriend living next door, my family was easier to be around. I enjoyed spending time with them. We related to one another as equals. I no longer felt like a child around my brothers.

The biggest surprise was Teddy. While John-Henry proved his credentials as a conservationist, Teddy was passionate about keeping his new home, Florida, safe for all the creatures that lived there. This was a cause he believed in. Teddy was full of surprises.

My family was cool. As close as Ivan and I were, no one inquired about what was going on with us. We were friends and that explained everything. Ivan was as welcome as I was at my house, which made being home easier. Ivan seemed to enjoy himself.

Mama's self righteousness faded somewhat once her eldest son appeared in photo and print. The only thing mentioned to Mama at work, “How sweet it was for John-Henry to save that dolphin.”

There was one closeup picture of John-Henry's face, identifying him as the leader of the rescue, and a picture of the four men supporting the dolphin on their shoulders just before it swam away. The nature of the beach or its location weren't disclosed. It was a story about men rescuing a sea creature in trouble.

Everyone at the conservancy knew which beach it was and John-Henry was no less popular there. He was a hard worker who could be depended on. That's what was important where he worked. Who he swam with or where he swam wasn't.

It was Florida after all.

*****

On New Year's Eve we didn't go to my house. We sat on the deck outside of Ivan's bedroom and watched a crystal clear night sky. We made love and were still awake at first light. We weren't due to dinner until that afternoon.

Happy New Year!

*****

Ivan and I became closer as 1967 progressed. Fishing was canceled two weekends in a row, while a series of stoms churned up the Gulf of Mexico. Most boats finished maintenance that began before Christmas. The crews had extra time to spend with their families.

It had turned unusually cool for that part of Florida. I had trouble staying warm in what would be shirtsleeve weather in Tulsa. The heat at Ivan's was a fuel oil furnace. It hadn't been turned on in three years. Once we turned it on the house smelled like oil for two weeks. At twenty-five cents a gallon for fuel oil, we didn't run the heat much.

Ivan and I had no trouble keeping each other warm at night or any other time for that matter.

I was relieved when the sunshine returned to the sky. Getting back into the gulf was my vacation. Fishing made time move faster than being stuck on shore.

After the storms the fish were practically leaping onto the boat. We didn't need nets but we used them anyway. Two weeks in a row we left the cove on Friday after school and returned Saturday afternoon with our holds full. It would be a good year for fishermen.

The winter mellowed and that suited me fine. Life was good.

*****

One day after school, once it was warm enough to sit on the deck again, Ivan put on the Johnny Cash album John-Henry gave me for Christmas. It was a 1964 album, Bitter Tears, that was new to us. We'd never heard of it but 1964 was a good year for the Olson clan.

I'd forgot about the album until Ivan put it on the record player and came to sit with me on the sunny deck. After listening to the A side, Ivan got up to turn the record over to play the B side. The unusual thing, we didn't say a word until the entire album played and it was quiet again.

“Cash is a certifiable hell raiser,” Ivan announced to me. “He's right up there with Dylan. That was a remarkable album, Clay. You should thank John-Henry. It tells quite a story.”

Dylan's songs had to be decoded. His ability to rhythm was ingenious and genius at the same time. While Maggie may well have been 'In the basement mixing up the medicine,' the truth ran far deeper than Maggie. Cash had the same feel for injustice but his songs were more direct. Listening to either of them was an education of sorts. Their music ran deeper than the words they sang.

The Bitter Tears: Ballads of the American Indian didn't pull any punches concerning the mistreatment of America's native people.

“As Long as the Grass Grows...,” told about how the 'White Father's' laws were enforced. During JFK's presidency a treaty the Seneca signed with George Washington, giving them title to lands for “As long as the grass grows and the rivers flow,” was violated. The land was taken in the early 60s to build a dam. It was one of the few treaties that hadn't been violated, until now.

It's how it went when whites made treaties with the Indians.

The Ballad of Ira Hays was a true story.

The picture of the flag raising on Iwo Jima had decorated John-Henry's wall in his room in Tulsa. It had been there as far back as my memory went. Under the picture were the names of the marines who raised that flag. Ira Hays was one of those marines.

It was one of the bloodiest Pacific battles in World War II. The marines who raised 'Old Glory' on Mr. Suribachi in that picture went home to a heroes' welcome.

“The Ballad of Ira Hays,” told of the marine, a Pima Indian, who went to war and took part in the flag raising. Ira Hays went home to a dirt poor Indian reservation, once the heroes of Iwo Jima toured the country. On that reservation Ira Hays died a stereotypical drunken Indian, forgotten by the country that once honored him.

Once again Ivan and I saw the injustice of war and of the people who ran things. The injustice ran into every track on Bitter Tears.

Ivan said, “No one wants to hear songs about people who possessed the land before the Europeans came and took it. They never gave a thought about the culture or the history they were grinding under their boot heels. They took what they wanted.”

While I'd insisted on listening to Johnny Cash during the time Ivan and I were becoming friends, it wasn't until he heard the Bitter Tears album that Cash earned a place on Ivan's record player along side of Dylan.

It was while listening to the only rock & roll station we could pick up on the beach, we caught an interview with Johnny Cash one afternoon, as we were about to go sit on the deck.

Johnny's resonate voice came out of the tiny speaker on the radio I got for Christmas.

“That's him,” I said. “That's Johnny Cash on the radio.”

We stood in front of the radio to hear what he was saying.

“I was over at Columbia Records waiting for news on my next album, if there was one. They were making big changes. I wasn't sure about my future at Columbia. I was told all the recording artists were summoned to appear.

“After an hour of waiting one of the secretaries came to escort me into an empty office. Not a good sign. I waited some more. It was then the door swung open and this young fellow dodges in.

“He stood for a second considering me. He's in an old flannel shirt, dirty jeans, and he has a guitar strung over one shoulder. I won't try to describe his hair.

“He began to circle my chair, not once, not twice, but three times he goes around my chair, never taking his eyes off me. Then he stops and says, “You're him. I love you man.””

“I don't mind telling you, I was beginning to get worried. Then he says, “I'm Bob Dylan.” That's how I met Bob. I love his music too.”

Ivan began laughing.

“That's funny,” he said. “That's a funny story.”

The power of both men was in the truth they told in their songs.

*****

By 1967 people in America began to pay more attention to a small country 10,000 miles away. Mostly they paid attention to their sons and husbands who were writing home from Vietnam.

The number of soldiers going there was increased. At first there were advisers. Then there were troops to protect the advisers. Now the troops were going to pacify the Viet Cong(VC), “Victor Charlie” or “Charlie.”

Seriously outnumbered, the Viet Cong used ambush and booby traps. They hid among civilians and operated at night. In general the more troops that were sent the more resistance there was.

While the stories I heard bothered me, they were stories about other peoples' brothers and sons. It didn't hit home until it was my brother. John-Henry was the first person I knew who was drafted. We knew almost nothing about what we were fighting for in Vietnam.

Ivan told us one night at dinner, “The French were there as a colonial power, for the natural resources. I believe it was rubber plantations. When the French lost a battle at Dien Bien Phu, the terms of their surrender included them leaving Vietnam.

“That's when Eisenhower sent advisers to help the South fight the insurgency from the North. As the insurgency heated up in the 60s, Johnson authorized the subsequent buildups of troop. A jungle terrain is a tough place to fight a war when the enemy lives in the jungle and knows it and you don't.”

Ivan's facts didn't tell us much, except we were there to fight. John-Henry would be in boot camp at the end of February, and I didn't know what to think about it. The entire war and draft deal turned my family upside down. Ivan and I were too young to go, but we were getting older.

*****

One day we held hands on the deck and my mind was working overtime. I was thinking about the future.

“Do you think there are other guys like us?” I asked thoughtfully.

“Like us meaning?” Ivan asked.

“Boys who love other boys. It's not the usual way it's done,” I said.

“No, and I think you think we feel the same way about it. I don't think we do, Clay. We have different feelings about it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, curious to know everything he thought.

“You don't see anything but us. I see other things. If I wasn't with you, I might not be with a boy. I can't be sure because I am with you and I don't need to think about not being with you.”

“Why are you with me?” I asked confused by his comment.

“I'm with you because I love you. We love each other. It's all I know but it isn't all I feel. It's all we know. If you hadn't come along, if we hadn't fallen in love, I don't know who I might like. Boris, but he's my brother. I've got to like him. It's an unknown we don't know, but we do love each other and that makes it unimportant.”

“I never liked anyone the way I like you. I don't like girls that way. I'm pretty sure of that. I look at boys.”

“I'm not convinced I couldn't find a girl I liked a lot, maybe love.

I'm not as certain about my feelings as you are. I feel great being with you. I don't need anyone but you. If I didn't have you, I don't know what I'd think. I don't worry about things I don't control.”

“You have no control over what you feel?” I asked.

“Not the way you're talking about. I feel what I feel and I go with that. Could I stop loving you. I don't think I could. Love is love. It's a powerful feeling. I can't see it going away. I'll always love you, Clay. When you truly love someone, I don't see how you can unlove them. You'd always love them on some level no matter what happens.”

I could have let what Ivan told me bother me. I was good at worrying. He didn't worry as far as I know. Things were what they were and he dealt with them on those terms. I worried about what could happen and what I'd do about it if it did happen.

*****

What I knew early in 1967, there were boxes coming home from Vietnam in increasing numbers. We had the baddest military the world had ever known and we were losing soldiers at an alarming rate. The peasants in Vietnam, the people, didn't want us in their country; the leaders did.

Once in power, few leaders gave it up willingly.

I hated that John-Henry was being drafted. Thinking about what could happen was a bad idea. He was my big brother. He intended to go willingly. He promised he'd return, but in spite of his reassurance, he would send me a letter that rocked my world to its foundation and it made Vietnam very very real in a way it wasn't before.

Spending time with my family was OK. The independence I'd established wasn't threatened by the card games. My parents continued letting me have my way, even after I began spending more time at home. I worried that the more time I spent at the conservancy house the more time they'd insist I spend there.

Going back to school after the holidays and working on the boat divided our time nicely. It kept the days moving. This year, once school was out, we'd work six days one week and three days the next week, alternating that way over the summer. The following summer we'd be out of school and able to work full time on the boat or any hours Mr. Aleksa set out for us. I was looking forward to it and I wasn't worried about the draft yet.

*****

In the beginning of 1967 Ivan and I had the world by the tail. We were almost convinced that we could live the way we were living forever and never need to deal with the insanity that raged out in the world beyond the beach.

We bothered no one and simply minded our own business. We were content loving each other, but we were to learn that you can't keep the world from reaching into your life to rip pieces out of it. As kids we were immune from the madness. As eighteen year olds, we could be tossed into the middle of the storm someone created because they didn't have anything better to do.

The peace and tranquility we enjoyed was about to be disturbed. The world was about to drop on top of our lives. The world is too small or our beach was too big to escape the mindless violence.

John-Henry was only the first to be called to duty by his country. He wouldn't be the last of the Olson clan to face the draft. We understood as early as February and his first letters home told us, he was going to fight for freedom halfway around the world.

Almost from his first letter home, the sergeants were telling them they were being trained to fight in Vietnam, Republic of. They were fighting to keep America free and to preserve peace.

This didn't sit well with me, not because it was Vietnam, but because he was my brother. My parents remained stoic. Brian remained oblivious. Teddy remained defiant.

I listened to Ivan reading from Time magazine while we sat on his deck. Without Ivan, I wouldn't have known anything about the war in Vietnam.

I knew more and more about the country a half a world away. I had no idea what the fight was about. I knew more about Vietnam than I knew about either of the states next to Florida.

At the dinner table John-Henry told us that it was his duty to his country. Teddy wasn't sure it didn't have more to do with testosterone filled politicians seeking to prove they were real men.

“The old goats who run this country aren't about to send their sons to Vietnam. They aren't going. They want us to go to fight for what? They're people doing the best they can in their own country.

“I'll tell you when I'll go to kill someone, right after the old goats lead the way. I'll follow them and their sons into battle, but I won't go because they say I've got to learn to kill for them.”

“There wouldn't be a war if the Vietnamese wanted us there. What right do we have to invade another country? They're peasants for God sake. We're the most powerful nation in the history of the world. We don't belong in Vietnam.”

My reasons were easier to explain. I didn't want my brothers dead. No one said anything to make me believe the war was worth one of my brothers' lives. I was with Teddy on the war.

The surprising thing was John-Henry didn't have anything to say about Teddy's concerns. While we were in Tulsa, if one of us dared to speak ill of our government, he'd have caught hell. I suspected we all felt bad about John-Henry going. Arguing about it wasn't going to help him.

John-Henry waited until we were around the card table the night Teddy went off on the war to reply. He addressed it to Teddy, but it was meant for all our ears.

“Cool off, Teddy. I'll go willingly. I'm not going to kill anyone who doesn't deserve killing,” John-Henry assured us.

“I hope they feel the same way about the American's running around inside their country, John-Henry. I somehow doubt we'd be so charitable if they were invading our country. Give that some thought.”

“We'd smash the suckers,” Brian bragged, putting down his comic book to speak out. “We're bad and we go where we want. Screw the Vietnamese. They can move if they don't like us there.”

“There you have it, John-Henry. Brian thinks the war's a good idea. Do you really want to be on the side of your idiot brother?”

“Teddy,” Pop said, drawing the line at insulting one of his sons.

“Sorry, Brian. I should have said mental deficient.”

“Pop!” Brian complained.

“Teddy!” Pop repeated. “This war has been discussed enough. Let it go. John-Henry is going. Accept it.”

Teddy left no doubt where he stood. Mama hadn't heard the exchange and she remained silent on the subject. She knew one of her sons would soon be in harms way. She didn't like the idea but she wouldn't speak out against her country, yet.

“I'm with Teddy,” I said. “Not on Brian but on the war. What are we after? Why don't the people who want to fight go ahead and fight. Leave the rest of us alone. I don't hate no one enough to kill him.”

“I'm going. You guys aren't helping any. I won't do anything I can't be proud of doing. I'll be the best soldier I can be. Pop's right, I've heard all I want to hear about it. I've got to go. It's the law.”

John-Henry got the final word. He was the oldest brother and he was the one going over there. I didn't like it but he didn't seem to mind. I wasn't so sure I'd be so willing to go without a good reason.

Sitting there that night, I didn't realize we were all in the way of the draft. Anyone eighteen or over was.

*****

It wasn't long after John-Henry went to boot camp that Ivan began to read from Time magazine about how Cassius Clay, now Mohammed Ali, was fighting the draft. According to what Ivan read, 'He claimed that the Vietnamese hadn't done anything to him. The Vietnamese never called him a Niger, and he refused to go to kill people who were defending their own country.'

Ali had a much louder voice than any of the Olsons. In spite of being one of the greatest heavy weight champions of all time, he was stripped of his title and the right to fight in the U.S.A.

He faced five years in federal prison if convicted of refusing to be drafted. Having money, Ali fought back. While he couldn't box in his own country, he could fight in Vietnam.

“They offered him a sweetheart deal,” Ivan said.

“What's that?” I asked, not keeping up with the boxing world.

“They'd let him tour with the U.S.O. and he'd put on exhibition matches for the troops. He wouldn't go anywhere dangerous.”

“He didn't take the deal?” I asked.

“He objects to the war and won't do anything to promote it. He wouldn't take the deal.”

“He has principles?” I asked.

“As well as religious objections,” Ivan answered.

“Sounds like he's the real deal,” I said. “Didn't care much for him after the name change. I need to rethink that. I like Ali.”

“Yeah, he's OK,” Ivan said. “One hell of a boxer. He makes fighting look easy. Believe me it isn't easy. He's that good.”

“Just not in Vietnam,” I said.

“Just not in Vietnam,” Ivan said.

*****

Once John-Henry was gone, I didn't want to comment on the war. Ivan had no such compunction. He read me articles about the fighting going on in Vietnam. We were losing a lot of men. I listened but didn't usually comment.

“According to Gen. Westmoreland, 'Everything's hunky-dory. We should have the country pacified by fall.”

The talk about Vietnam was absent from the table. John-Henry was in South Carolina, Fort Jackson, training. One night Ivan and I just sat down for dinner, just before Ivan turned seventeen. As Mama was bringing in the food, Pop had something to say.

“Brian is going to enlist in the army,” Pop said. “He wanted me to tell everyone at the table tonight. That's where he is tonight.”

Speaking of a quiet table. No one had anything to say after that.

Teddy was at work and that left me as the only brother left. I had nothing to say. Brian wasn't my favorite person but I didn't want him dead. John-Henry could take care of himself. Brian was helpless. He thought he was going to become John-Wayne. He wasn't.

“They're using up men fast,” Ivan said once we were on his deck.

Brian failed his physical and was classified 4-F. They could reclassify him at a later date if they were really running short of men, but there were plenty of draft age boys.

No one had much to say about Brian not going.

Ivan and I talked about what we would do once we were ripe to be drafted. We didn't know we had nothing to worry about, but I was worried. The longer I thought about it, the less I liked the idea of going to someone else's country to kill those people. I still hadn't heard a good reason why I should.

Being eighteen didn't seem like enough. There was a name for big guys who picked on little guys. Was it the same for countries? Did my country care how it looked to the rest of the world.

At first they needed 200,000 men to pacify the Commies. Then they agreed on a quarter million. Before that number sunk in, there were a half million troops there. A family on almost every block seemed to have a son who wasn't coming home again.

It was at dinner in March when Teddy announced he'd be moving in with two of his friends near work. I didn't think anything of it, until Teddy stopped coming home. The only address he gave Pop was a P. O. Box in a nearby town.

Teddy would be nineteen just before I turned seventeen, but I read nothing into it. If anyone in the family knew anything different, they didn't tell me. Ivan and I talked about our brothers from time to time. Boris had turned nineteen. We hadn't heard from him.

“Teddy's a working man. He gets to do it his way,” Ivan said.

I was worried by Teddy's move. It wasn't like him. He'd been working as far back as I could remember, but he stayed close to his family. He didn't have much to say until after John-Henry was drafted.

“He's not going to answer his countries call,” I said, putting two and two together by then. “There is no apartment. Only a P. O. Box. I bet someone else checks the mail for him.”

“The masters of war will find a way to go on without Teddy,” Ivan calculated. “Ali is looking at five years in prison for resisting the draft.”

“Neat trick. How do you make men go to war? You threaten to send them to prison for five years if they won't go. It's illegal not to go kill some poor sucker in his own country. It's a racket,” I said. “The only way to stop war is to go to jail.”

“You're a hell raiser, Clay,” Ivan said. “Teddy isn't going? He's a hell raiser too. He learned to think for himself somewhere. Our governments worst nightmare, men who think. They'll want to make an example of him. They need to make an example of him.”

“They got John-Henry. Brian's too dumb to go. Teddy won't go and I'm leaning toward Teddy's position. I won't kill anyone. Once you learn to be a trained killer, can you unlearn it?”

“I suspect most men can, but then there are the men who learn to kill and they like the power it gives them. They might never stop killing, until they're killed. War is a good training ground for them.”

“How do you know if you'll like killing people?” I asked. “Who really wants to find that out about themselves?”

“That jar you have on top of your refrigerator? It's your ticket out of the draft.”

“What's that mean? The draft board takes bribes?”

“You go to college. You get an education deferment.”

“What's that?”

“You should pay attention when I read to you. It's the law. It's there to save your ass. How do you think our fearless leaders keep their sons out of the draft? They send them to college and buy grades to keep them there if necessary.”

“That's how they get out of going?”

“Uh huh. It's all a ripoff. Poor suckers go and die and the rich kids sit around their dorms smoking pot. Looking good for the girls.”

“I don't like it,” I said. “Why should I get a pass?”

“Because you can, Clay. Don't be a fool. Take what the law allows. You're plenty smart enough to go to college. Do it for me.”

It was from Ivan that I learned about draft resistors. The government called anyone who wouldn't go to war a draft dodger. I was almost certain Teddy intended to resist the draft. I wasn't sure how he'd do it but Teddy knew.

Why didn't Ali just enroll in college? He had more money than me. He had to know he could do that. I'd listen to him talk. He was plenty smart. Why didn't he do what the law allowed?

Teddy didn't send us any letters. He knew the implications could put the heat on Mama and Pop. The FBI would come. They'd insist we reveal the whereabouts of one Theodore George Olson. Withholding that information was a violation of federal law. They never got beyond the front door.

Pop spoke politely to the two agents with buzz cuts and confessed he didn't know where Teddy was and he didn't know he'd received a draft notice.

This was a recurring drama at our house. It was difficult to miss the unmarked sedan parked out on the highway. It followed when an Olson vehicle left the house. They lost interest quickly. Teddy remained quiet for some time.

Teddy must not have been the only draft resistor in Florida. The FBI gave up on our driveway after a couple of weeks.

In a note from Teddy that Pop read at the table, my brother explained himself to his family.

“It's my belief that all life is sacred and my job is to preserve life where I can. I will not become an instrument of this country to murder citizens of another country. If this war is so vital, why don't the politicians take up arms and head for Vietnam?

“When all young men refuse to become killers, war will stop. The politicians will lose their power. The world will become a safer place. I intend to stay true to my beliefs and I'll accept the consequences.

“I understand if you don't agree with me. That's your right. That's not to say I don't pray for John-Henry's safe return each day, Love Teddy.”

Pop folded the note and put it beside his plate before continuing.

“We haven't heard from Teddy. He got this message to me by way of one of his teachers. The teacher brought it to my work this morning. Teddy is well and safe. That's all I know. He requested the note be read at dinner. I repeat, none of us know where Teddy is, which is the truth.”

The teachers were mostly gung ho at school. Obviously not all teachers were. My American history teacher wanted to know how many of us had brothers in the military. Half the class raised their hands. He seemed delighted that so many kids were going to war.

I couldn't conceive of John-Henry coming home in a box.

*****

My life with Ivan was good. We had it made, but other than that, 1967 was turning into a bummer of major proportions.

I didn't get much mail. So when I got a letter from John-Henry, I took it with me to Ivan's to read when we had time. I might have just as easily opened it at the house, but no one was home, and getting a letter from my oldest brother was a big deal. I didn't want someone else to read it at the table. John-Henry didn't want that either.

I sat on the deck with Ivan. He waited for me to open the letter.

“Clay,” I read to Ivan. “Don't expect a letter from me all that often. I'll write the family when I have time, but time isn't something we get much of in boot camp.

“Scuttlebutt has it, the talk around here is, we're heading for Vietnam, once we finish training. Since you're the only one likely to stay out of this war, I want you to know what to do if I die.”

I stopped reading and tossed the letter down between the two wicker chairs.

“I don't want to read this. I don't want to think about my brother dying. Why's he putting this on me?”

“Would it do any good to tell Brian? Teddy's long gone. You're it, dude” Ivan said, picking up the letter. “I want you to know what to do if I'm killed,” Ivan read. “Mama and Pop aren't to see my body. You will be the one who identifies me for the final disposition and burial. I don't want either Mama or Pop to be any more upset than my death will make them. I trust you'll do what I've outlined in this letter. It's nothing special. I haven't made much of an impression on the world. So that's how I want to go out.

“A simple ceremony. Mama and Pop can put me where they want me. I doubt they'll hold still for Arlington, and that's cool. You find out the details and you tell them I want you to handle it. That might help them a little. You'll need to be strong for them, buddy.

“I hate laying this on you, but Brian's not up to it, and Teddy, well, I don't see Teddy hanging around long enough to be of any use. He's an independent sort. With the number of guys we're sending over there, we should kick butt within a year or less. That means you'll stay clear of Vietnam. At least I hope so. You're my most levelheaded brother. I know you'll follow my orders. Got it squirt?

“I love you brother. I hope to see you again one day.”

“John-Henry Olson”

Ivan folded the letter before putting his arm over my shoulders. The letter upset me so much I was shaking.

“He'll be OK,' Ivan said.

I couldn't speak for fear I'd burst into tears.

“Boris is going,” Ivan said, after sitting close to me for a few minutes.

He looked out at the Gulf of Mexico and said nothing more.

Chapter 26

Turn, Turn, Turn

Nothing changed for Ivan and me. After trying to leave each other alone for long enough to get some sleep, we got up to go to school together each Monday morning. On Friday we went fishing together after school, returning home Sunday so we could spend some quality time together, before going to my house for Sunday supper. We had it good but we understood that there were storm clouds gathering around our peaceful world.

We continued going to dinner at least twice a week and some times more. We stayed for cards once dinner was done. Lucy put her hurt feelings behind her and was always happy to see us.

Our lives were a routine that didn't have a downside. A little less school would have been coo. We couldn't be together all the time. A good way to screw up a good thing would be to do something that had the school calling my house. That would get my father on the radio calling me.

Not having a worry in the world was a good thing. We saw no future in creating problems. We were trusted to do the things we were responsible to do and we happily went to school together. There were still a few things I didn't know.

That's not to say I hadn't begun to worry about my brother, John-Henry. He hadn't left South Carolina yet, but what Ivan read me, while we sat on the deck in the afternoons, wasn't good.

I had no doubt we could crush the relatively small country of Vietnam and not break a sweat. I'd looked on a map of the world at Vietnam and the United States. It was mostly jungle and they were mostly peasants. Being the most powerful country in the history of the world should count for something. If those people looked at a map and knew of our power, certainly they'd surrender.

It took two bombs to subdue Japan, more of a formidable military power than one half of Vietnam. The rational for dropping The Bomb was to prevent us from taking tens of thousands of casualties invading Japan. To keep from taking tens of thousands of casualties in Vietnam, shouldn't we follow the same logic and get it over with?

John-Henry leading a charge to take out a machine gun nest wasn't necessary these days. We could blow that machine gun nest and half the country off the face of the earth and John-Henry and a lot of other boys could come home.

As my mind worked out how to best get the war over with in a hurry, Ivan was talking to me. It took a second for me to switch into listening mode.

“Go down to Florida and read name six for last month,” Ivan said, handing me the magazine he was reading from.

“I'm in Florida,” I said.

“Last month's war dead is listed by state. Name six, Florida.”

I ran my finger down the list of states, trying to remember his instructions. I stopped at Florida and counted down to the sixth and last name on the list.

“J. Purdy 7/9/48. Who is J. Purdy?” I asked.

“Green teeth? Nasty grin? Sadistic guy from the rope swing the summer we met? He wouldn't be nineteen until July.”

“Purdy!” I said. “He died over there?”

“I can't prove it's him but how many J. Purdys are there that age from here?”

I could feel Purdy's steely grip on my arm. I recalled his acrid breath in my face and resisted the urge to recoil. I remembered the way he manhandled me, as my mind passed over my only memory of the late J. Purdy.

I didn't know anyone who died before. Teenagers didn't die in large numbers in my experience. I resisted any idea this might make me feel good. It didn't, although I didn't know how many people might never experience Purdy's bullying ways.

I handed back the magazine as Ivan studied my face. He could see the news didn't delight me.

“You read all the names of the guys who die?” I asked.

“No, but it would be a good idea for the politicians to be forced to read each name of the boys they kill at least once each month. I doubt they have consciences, but you never know. I read the Florida list because I might know someone. Now I do.”

“Isn't it better not to know? I don't feel very good about Purdy dying.”

“Good! I'd be disappointed in you if you did. I didn't think you would think much of it.”

“Just proves guys everywhere are dying over there,” I said. “I don't like thinking of anyone dying.”

“Or anything,” Ivan added.

“Or anything.”

“'War is hell,' a great general once said. He was burning down a plantation at the time during the Civil War,” Ivan said. “I think it was in the Civil War and that general made it seem like hell for anyone alive in the South at the time. Until then, until Gen. Sherman, war didn't involve the civilians any more than necessary. He went out of his way to make the civilians suffer. Just your average guy with too much power and time on his hands.”

I didn't know much about war. I was born during the baby boom in 1950, after World War II. There was the Korean conflict right after I was born. That one lasted three years. We had been virtually war free for the entire span of my memory, until that Gulf of Tonkin deal when I was fourteen. We were trying to be peaceful.

“That was a hundred years ago,” I said, after thinking it over.

“Yeah, except for the Spanish American War, the Boxer Rebellion, the Mexican War, and World War I, we've hardly had war since.”

“Boxer Rebellion? That's the one with Ali being a draft resister?”

“No, that was the Chinese one in 1905,” Ivan explained.

“Oh!” I said. “Chinese? We fought the Chinese?”

“Yes. We didn't fight China, as in the country of China, but we were fighting the Chinese. It was a British protectorate then. We were just being helpful to the Brits, our allies.”

“The British? The guys we fought in the revolution?”

“Yeah, those British,” Ivan said.

“Now we're fighting the Vietnamese but not Vietnam?” I asked, trying to get my wars straight. “Which the French protected.”

“We are fighting the Vietnamese from North Vietnam,” he said. “They defeated the French and got rid of them before we showed up.”

“And that gets us back to the Civil War, North versus South?” I said.

“We fought that here. We were fighting each other.”

I sat and thought and tried to remember the list.

“There was that little invasion of Russia in 1918,” Ivan added.

“What invasion of Russia?” I wanted to know.

“The Allies invaded Russia. We were one of those and were on the side of the White Russians, but the Reds won the Russian Revolution and the Bolsheviks took over. We wanted to prevent them or the Japanese from getting the military supplies. They didn't control all of the country, because we helped hold some of it.”

“Russia and Japan?” I said. “We invaded Russia? That might explain why they're so pissy with us. I don't remember reading a thing in history class on that. Wouldn't that be important in explaining our hostilities with the Russians? That invasion thing sounds important. Maybe a list of who we haven't invaded would be shorter?”

“We invaded Vladivostok where a lot of World War I military supplies were stored. We didn't know the Reds would win. It was more an Allied decision to secure the weapons.”

“Vladivostok?” I said. “Didn't we think that invading a country like Russia might come back to bite us later?”

“If they think about this stuff, they don't admit it,” Ivan said. “Some general gets the idea and how do you say no? He's thinking about his next star. Stars come from taking action.”

“Could explain the Russians not trusting us? A little invasion in our past we haven't gotten around to writing into history. That was only fifty years ago.”

“It was complicated and we get back to war being hell. There are always unexpected consequences. People won't read history books if you make it too depressing.”

“Like the Cold War is a consequence of invading Russia. History is how you learn stuff. I'm not depressed by the facts. How do you know all this stuff, Ivan?”

“I read books. My grandfather studied history, especially the Soviet Union. When he fished, he read during the lulls. All his books on history are in the house. You're welcome to read them. It's what I do when you aren't here. I like to read. I like history.”

“I'm hardly ever at my house without you these days,” I said.

“Yeah, no telling who we've invaded that I don't know about.”

I laughed.

“OK, we're getting somewhere. Why are we in Vietnam? We both have a brother heading that way,” I said. “What are we after?”

“I have no idea. Vietnam is near China, as Korea is near China. China as in Communist. It's a reach. Then consider we invaded Russia. How vital was Russia to us? We want things the way we want them. When they aren't the way we like, we fight. That's all I know.”

“Who decides this stuff? Do they read history?” I asked.

“No one knows who and they write the history,” Ivan said.

All that aside, as much as I disliked Purdy, I never wished him dead, but I didn't need to. He was dead. I thought of how my mother invoked God's wrath to punish sinners. If I inadvertently condemned Purdy to eternal damnation, I didn't remember it, but I don't think I did. I don't recall ever wishing someone dead.

*****

We lived incredibly simple lives. The upheaval came from outside influences. I had a brother ready to ship out to Vietnam. Ivan had a brother getting ready to go to boot camp before he'd ship out. Ivan was closer to his brother than I was to mine, but there were only the two of them. I had spare brothers if I lost one.

John-Henry was about to turn twenty-one. He wasn't old enough to vote or drink. He wasn't so young he couldn't go to war. Boris wasn't close to being old enough to vote or drink, but they were the proper age to learn to kill.

The idea that boys younger than both John-Henry or Boris were coming home in boxes by the thousands scared me. Sitting at a table full of food with my family and my lover didn't make the war seem real. The boxes with the bodies did.

Being comfortable wasn't right when we were at war.

This was a period when the war was not discussed at the Olson table. When a letter came from John-Henry, it was read after dinner and before we left the table. By all indications my brother was fine. He was the leader of his rifle squad. I didn't find that hard to believe. He claimed the soldiers were good dependable fellows. In other words, they were like John-Henry, regular guys.

*****

Boris wasn't drafted. He willingly joined the army. He had a date when he reported for boot camp. He didn't mind going to Vietnam. As a foot soldier, that's where he'd be going. Before he left for the army, Boris was coming to spend two weeks with us.

He was going fishing with his father, his brother, his brother's lover, and Kenny. Mr. Aleksa wasn't happy about Boris' decision to join the military without talking to him about it. There would be no sport fishing.

Under the circumstances, I didn't know how Ivan would act. It was obvious he didn't think much of the war. It was a poor use of resources, especially brothers.

The idea Boris was going because he wanted to go didn't strike me as good planning for his future. I didn't know much and kept my opinions to myself. Ivan and Boris had to deal with it in their own way.

It was sunny and in the seventies when Boris arrived on Wednesday afternoon. His car was parked in the driveway when we came home from school.

“Hi, Clay,” he said, hugging and kissing me when I came into the kitchen.

He hugged and kissed Ivan, who came in right behind me. Boris had been swimming and wasn't wearing anything. He remained nice scenery, but I'd resolved sexual attraction and my love for Ivan not being in the same ballpark. I could appreciate Boris and not want to jump his bones because I loved Ivan. I trusted him to do the same.

Ivan took a good look at Boris once the embrace ended.

“Why are you doing this, Boris? The war is bogus.”

“Yeah, but the ladies love a guy in uniform.”

“You'll be in the middle of an army of men in uniform. How will the ladies know which one is you if any uniform will do?”

“I thought I might make the military my career. I don't see myself as a fisherman. Got to do something, little brother.”

“Being a target doesn't sound like much of a career choice.”

Boris' reaction to this told me he hadn't thought of it that way. Death wouldn't look good on him in or out of uniform.

“I thought we could have fun. Spring break is next week. You guys won't be in school and our mother won't be a problem.”

“Cool,” Ivan said. “Whatever you like. We go out with Dad on Friday and come back Sunday. The rest of the time is yours.”

“Sunday, once we're back, we eat at my house,” I said.

“Cool,” Boris said. “I can dig it. I don't get much home cooking. Eating out all the time is a drag.”

We started out swimming and Ivan and Boris shot baskets at the side of the house. I stood under the basket and threw the ball back to them. Boris wasn't bad but Ivan was on his game and rarely missed.

When we went back into the house, I radioed my house and was surprised to get Lucy.

“It's me, Clay,” she said.

“Hi, Lucy. Boris is here. Ask Mama if we have enough for an extra plate tonight. We'd like to come down for dinner if it's OK.”

“You kidding?” Lucy said. “No one's here but Mama, Daddy, and me. Mama cooks for a small army. There'll be plenty. Boris is cute. Can I have him?”

Boris leaned around me to press his finger on top of mine to speak.

“You're cute too, Luce,” Boris said. “I'm all yours.”

Lucy screamed and disappeared from the radio.

“I think that means we can come to dinner tonight if you like.”

Mama wouldn't run out of food, but I wanted to warn her.

Brian went with the truck driver who wanted to teach him to drive a big rig. He'd gone with him before. When the freight slowed down, he had to let Brian go. It was the first time Brian showed any interest in anything but football.

Mama and Pop were delighted to see the three of us. It doubled the people eating and they'd avoid eating leftovers from that nights dinner. Anything that was left went home with us.

The Canasta game after dinner was all out war and Lucy came out on top two games out of three.

Mama served us cherry cobbler during the card game. It was heavenly. She got a good buy on cherries at Piggly Wiggly. We got to eat the results of her preparing what she found. We got a cherry pie as a parting gift.

While a good time was had by all, I went home to sleep between Ivan and Boris. I knew it was going to be a long night. Each time I fell asleep, one or the other of them rolled up against me and I was wide awake again. Luckily the good food and hot card games tired them both out and they slept.

It was too chilly to sit on the deck.

Boris planned to stay for two weeks and I wasn't sure I could survive two weeks of sleeping between them. I disliked being away from Ivan and I made up my mind to endure the hardship of being too aroused to sleep. If I slept on my stomach I was asking for trouble and if I slept on my back the evidence was hard to miss.

Going on the boat Friday meant the bunks were singles and we mostly fell asleep on deck after a hard day's work. By April the weather was quite warm and the nights were slow to cool off on the water. The breeze on deck at night was usually pleasant. I often fell asleep leaning back against the bridge, after we pulled the nets and got the fish in the holds for that evening..

Boris and Kenny picked up where they left off. Kenny had just about finished maturing. He was strong and almost as well built as Boris but he had no life beyond the boat. He always perked up when Boris was on the boat. They really liked each other.

When I asked Kenny about being drafted, he shrugged and said, “They don't know I exist. They won't bother me.”

He was right. There were two occasions when illegals were rounded up on the fishing boats. The INS would catch four or five heavily accented men without papers, and they were happy as clams.

Kenny waved as they came onto the dock to search the boats. He was a big redheaded boy with no accent. No one asked him for his papers or his draft card. If they came on the Vilnius Two, Kenny helped them search, showing them good hiding places, while he was hiding in plain sight.

No one asked why a strong young boy like him wasn't in a nice uniform doing his duty for his country. I was glad Kenny was safe. He had security Ivan and I didn't have, but I wasn't seventeen yet.

The draft was designed to catch enough people to fight the wars. It wasn't designed to catch everyone or to treat everyone as equals. Poor men watched their sons go off to Vietnam. Rich men watched their sons go off to Harvard and Yale.

The Vilnius Two was a safe port in the storm. Only American citizens walked its decks. The INS didn't care about their draft status. That was another agency's job.

The captain of the boat wasn't happy. The last time his oldest son sailed with him, hopes of him becoming a fisherman were dashed. Now Boris was putting his life on the line.

Mr. Aleksa stated his objection to his son's service in the occupation of another country. He brooded over the prospect. Heavy lines appeared on what had been a worry free face.

The first time Boris came on the boat, I saw happiness on Mr. Aleksa's face. It didn't last long but it was a new emotion for a man who didn't display much in the way pf emotion. This time there was no happiness. Even neutrality would have been easier to see.

The son his wife took from him was now making the first decision as a man and his father considered it a bad decision.

Mr. Aleksa loved his new country and the freedom it offered but he was no friend of the war. He remembered the Soviet troops in Vilnius as a boy. They were there to make sure no one gave the Lithuanian people trouble. The Soviets cornered the market on that.

Mr. Aleksa knew what being occupied meant. When his father sailed away from Lithuania and out of the Soviets' grasp, the Aleksas rejoiced. His family was free. Mr. Aleksa, being of age, faced conscription into the Soviet military. This was one of the primary reasons for leaving Lithuanian. His father didn't want his son to participate in the occupation of another people.

His son becoming part of the oppression of people reminded him of his youth, when the Soviet troops kept an eye on him.

*****

For me it was simpler. Teddy authored my feelings. Killing people is wrong. No matter what reason you give. I didn't need to think about this. I was innately opposed to the killing of human beings.

if you go ten thousand miles to do your killing, you're on a fool's errand, often sent by fools. If you're invading another man's country, the fellow will defend it, as we'd defend our land against invaders.

Teenagers are taught to obey. High school is all about regimentation, obedience, and keeping good order if you hope to receive good reports. We were just right for the war machine.

I wanted to live and let live. I belonged to a group that might be small or large. There was no way for me to know, unless you were homosexual and unable to hide it well enough. Whether hidden or exposed, there was rejection, and violence, and a guarantee of tough sledding ahead. We were not welcome here and that was no secret.

I may not have been all that smart, but I was smart enough to know what to keep to myself. Both my feelings for Ivan and my feelings about the war weren't to be shared. Both were dangerous around the wrong people.

It wasn't a question of being a good American. I wanted to be true to who I was. I wouldn't be associated with anyone who denied my right to exist. I did exist in spite of their denial.

I thought about Mohammed Ali and his words. He belonged to a group that people didn't like. There was no justification for such hatred. It was too much power put into the wrong hands that abused that power to make life miserable for people like Ali.

Ali wasn't going to go to Vietnam to kill people who had never done anything to him. People in his own country had done plenty of harm to him. He refused to do harm to others. I liked his approach.

I would refuse to be part of the destruction, the hate, or the violence. I may not have known these things when I arrived in Florida, but I was aware of what I felt now. I was determined not to become part of the destruction of living things

*****

The amount of fish a boat like the Vilnius Two took out of the sea was negligible. What I saw while taking those fish was an education I didn't know how to use. The idea that some creatures that came out of the nets I only saw once worried me. Were they once plentiful and now they were so few that I saw one in my lifetime?

Questions accompanied my enjoyment of being on the sea. This was freedom at its best. Being out in the Gulf of Mexico gave me a feeling for the size of the universe. In Tulsa everything was rather similar and my world was small. I couldn't see beyond my block.

On the gulf there were no boundaries. As the sun set in the west, I could see it and the sea it set into. We could sail two days straight and never reach the spot the sun was lighting on the horizon.

I didn't think fishing, the time on the boat, and my love of the sea were leading me somewhere I couldn't see. There were many changes on the horizon, but then, when Boris came to sail out of the cove with us the second time, I was going fishing, as I did often.

There was no way to know how much would change in the next three years. Everything had changed in remarkable ways in the last three years. I was aware of much more about life. I was more involved in my life than I'd ever been.

When we sailed with Boris aboard, the work was the same. He may have changed the mood but not the mission. We'd fish, fill our holds, and return to the cove.

None of us knew it was Boris' last trip on the Vilnius Two.

*****

Ivan and Boris were fine together. There was no rancor of any kind. They acted even more like brothers the second time I saw them together. The brothers Aleksa were at peace with each other. Did they sense the coming separation would last for a long long time?

It was good to see them together. I didn't feel slighted because Ivan spent more time with Boris than he spent with me on this trip. Boris was joining the army. We were at war. They didn't know when they'd see each other again. None of us knew the future.

Mama packed her usual picnic basket of goodies for our journey. There was something everyone liked. The freshness of the taste delights made eating a nice experience in the sameness of the sea. Even with Boris on board, or maybe because he was on board, we did well and came close to filling four of the six holds.

On the way to the fish warehouse on Sunday, Boris separated from Ivan and spent the entire four hour journey with his father on the bridge. I have no idea what they spoke of but Mr. Aleksa looked better once we docked.

*****

We went for pizza and to take care of Kenny's needs for the next week before returning to the house next to the river. Mr. Aleksa sat with us at the kitchen table for a while, and we finished what was left of the three pizzas we'd ordered. We went to work on the soda too.

Then it was time to get ready to go to my house for dinner.

Boris was the first one ready to go.

Mama was thrilled that we came to dinner, but we almost always did on Sunday. Lucy was happy to have card players.

Brian had returned from his latest trip with Mr. Anderson and there was talk of him getting his trucker's license so he could take turns with the driving. For the first time in his life Brian had a career path in place. He seemed happy. None of us could find anything to criticize him about.

Chapter 27

Brothers Again

On my birthday, two days after school let out, Ivan and I were sitting on his deck. Mama was going to do cake and ice cream after dinner, but I asked for no more than that. Seventeen was as good as sixteen to me. They felt a lot alike.

I didn't want or need anything. My life was very good as long as I was with Ivan. Mama told me Lucy was churning the strawberry ice cream with a ton of fresh strawberries. A labor of love for her brother. I was looking forward to being with what was left of my family. Everyone was gone but the four of us.

Just when you think you've got it all, something happens to prove you don't. Ivan and I were chatting about what he had planned once we came home from the conservancy house.

It was then I found myself watching someone strolling up the beach. I knew who it looked like but it couldn't be him. He was hundreds of miles away, but it was him, John-Henry Olson.

At first I waited to make certain Ivan saw him. I'd been thinking about him a lot lately. I watched him come to the back of the house and stand under the deck. Ivan was looking right at him. He must have been there or Ivan would have been looking at him.

“Hey, little brother. Ivan. I came by to wish Clay a happy birthday. Happy birthday, little brother.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, halfway between excitement and disbelief.

After his letter to me, I wasn't sure I'd see my brother again.

“Couldn't find a card I liked. I decided this might do,” he said.

But by that time I was on my way down the stairs. I came out of the kitchen on the run and I got him in a bear hug. He was startled by my enthusiasm for a few seconds. My brother and I met eye to eye for the first time. I didn't remembered not looking up to meet his eyes with mine. I didn't recall being that happy to see one of my brothers. I was glad to see him. He'd given me my best gift.

“It's good to see you too, Clay. I can honestly say, I've never seen quite so much of you.”

It was then I realized I wasn't wearing anything. Ordinarily I was very conscious of being naked around anyone but Ivan. I passed right through embarrassment and went to explaining myself.

“Oh, it's just more comfortable not sitting around in clothes and we were about to go swimming and...,” I thought sounded good.

“You don't need to explain it to me, Clay. It's Florida,” he said with a smile. “You've grown up. I've never noticed you were growing up. You're almost as tall as me.”

“Really!” I said. “You think so?”

“Really. I remember when they brought you home the first time.”

“John-Henry,” Ivan said, stopping beside me.

“Hi, Ivan. You taking care of my brother for me?”

“Sure am. We take care of each other. Keeps us out of trouble.”

“I think Brian wanted to smash you because you cried so much, but Mama restrained him. Then he thought you'd make a neat football. Mama had her hands full after you came home.”

“I don't remember any of that,” I said. “Nothing would surprise me about Brian. Did Mama say where he is this week?”

“Albuquerque, New Mexico,” he said. “She said he called last night from there.”

“'I knew I should have made that left toin in Albuquerque,” I said in Bugs Bunnies voice, munching on my imaginary carrot.

“What?” he said.

Ivan laughed.

“Bugs Bunny. He comes up in China and takes a look around, chomps on his carrot, and says, “I knew I should have made that left toin in Albuquerque.”

“Oh,” John-Henry said. “Let's go swimming. I've been home a half hour and haven't been in the water yet. I can't wait.”

“You don't have anyone to see, John-Henry. None of your girlfriends waiting by their phones for your call?”

“The only one I had to see was my little brother. I've got thirty days before we ship. Plenty of time to make the rounds. No one I want waiting for me, Clay. It's easier to leave things as they are.”

“Yeah,” I said, and John-Henry stripped out of his clothes to go swimming with us.

His face and arms were deeply tanned, which wasn't unusual since he worked on the beach, but the rest of him was four or five shades lighter. There hadn't been any sun on his body since February. By June his tan had faded.

I don't recall us swimming together since we'd arrived in Florida. He used to swim behind the house after dinner some nights, but I didn't swim with my older brothers. It would mean being dunked a lot more frequently than I liked. There was no dunking this time around. John-Henry seemed to savor being back in the gulf.

My birthday was turning out to be pretty good. No one expected John-Henry to make an appearance. The only sad part was Teddy wouldn't be able to visit.

The FBI would know John-Henry was home. They'd expect Teddy to visit his oldest brother, but Teddy was a bit more clever than that. They came up empty again.

The first week John-Henry was home, I didn't go fishing. Mr. Aleksa knew from Pop that I wouldn't be working. I'd once have been reluctant to be separated from Ivan for three days. I don't think we'd been three days without seeing each other since we met, except maybe when he went to his mother's the first year, when he had to stay until she was good and ready to bring him back.

This time it was John-Henry I didn't want to leave. Being seventeen may have had something to do with my appreciation for my family. I had it good. I had the freedom I required. I no longer felt stifled at the conservancy house. It was nice being home.

The dread I felt when Ivan and I were separated had passed. I no longer felt we'd never be together again, when we were apart. I felt secure being with Ivan. I felt secure when I wasn't with him.

I did fear I might not get to spend this amount of time with my oldest brother again. There was a good reason I felt that way. The letter he sent me woke me up to the truth about what he was about to do. He was aware of the danger. He made me aware of it.

When I got that letter, I didn't want to think about my brother dying. He had trusted me to take care of the arrangements if he did die. His trust made me realize I needed to do what he asked. I understood that it was to make it easier on Mama and Pop. John-Henry asking me to do it had me feeling more mature.

*****

Pop and Mr. Aleksa embarked on a conspiracy to deny our government the pound of flesh they wanted. While I became aware of it once I joined the conspiracy, it was never mentioned to me or anyone else. The conspiracy was obvious to me as it unfolded. We were all involved without knowing it. The conspiracy was silent.

The following Friday with Pop bringing Brian and John-Henry to the dock. They sailed with us on the Vilnius Two. At first I assumed they were going fishing with us. No one told me that was the case.

We sailed out of the cove as we did each Friday. None of us were any the wiser. Mr. Aleksa welcomed my brothers aboard and that was that. My brothers hadn't expressed an interest in what I did and it crossed my mind, we might not be going fishing.

That's as far as I got, but I knew within the hour that something was up. I didn't ask what. A deckhand doesn't question the captain of the boat. If he wants you to know something, he'll tells you.

I was content to let the trip unfold. I trusted that whatever Mr. Aleksa was up to was fine. Neither John-Henry nor Brian dressed for fishing. I was instructed to wear jeans and a long sleeve shirt. That didn't add up to much.

I felt like a character in someone else's play. It was awkward as we sailed west out of the cove, turning south once we could no longer see the shore. Mr. Aleksa came off the bridge several times to scan the horizon. He usually didn't leave the bridge until we reached the fishing grounds.

Mr. Aleksa continued leaving the controls to scan the horizon as we went south at our usual cruising speed. He hadn't spoken since he welcomed us aboard, but he was more intense than usual. What was he looking for?

We'd usually change our course to the southwest an hour or so after leaving the cove. This time he turned directly south. We were following the coastline. I thought of the Keys and disregarded them as unproductive fishing grounds. The best fishing was to the southwest. I didn't know what Mr. Aleksa knew. He drove the boat.

We maintained our course for an hour or so. Then Mr. Aleksa turned us back to the east. We were heading for the coast. In only a few minutes it came back into view. I knew it would.

I was still in the dark. We sat around the deck saying nothing. If John-Henry or Brian knew something, they didn't let on. Pop told them what to do and they were doing it. He hadn't told me anything but what to wear, which I thought was odd.

I was confused but I knew better than to question the captain. I had a distinct feeling that if I questioned Mr. Aleksa, he'd have told me that I'd find out when it was time. A few hundred yards from shore the engines went silent.

Mr. Aleksa came off the bridge and went up top with binoculars. He scanned the sea for several minutes and then came back down.

“Get the raft, Kenny,” he said.

Kenny brought a rubber package out of the galley. He took off the cords holding it together and opened the valve to inflate it. A four man life raft sprang open on the deck, filling with air.

“Okay, here's my flare gun. Once you get into the cove and find what you're looking for, fire it directly toward the boat. Do not, I repeat, do not fire the flare into the air. I don't think anyone is watching us, but if they are, that flare will tell them your location. Fire it along the surface, Clay, and I'll see it as soon as it leaves the cove.”

“What do we do in the cove,” I asked, not enjoying the mystery.

“I don't know. Your father gave me these coordinates. He told me there would be a cove, which is right there. He provided the life raft and said that the three of you were to take the raft into the cove. Once you find what you're looking for and fire the flare, Ivan, Kenny, and I will go about our merry way. Noon Sunday I'll be right here waiting for you to come back out of the cove. That's all I know. I have followed your father's instructions. I suggest you do the same.”

I had my suspicions but I kept my mouth shut to mirror Mr. Aleksa's posture. John-Henry and Brian asked no questions about the nature of our excursion. They got in the life raft.

For all the exploring I'd done, I'd never seen a landscape like the one we were facing. I knew by the distance we'd traveled and by the density of the vegetation, we were in the Everglades.

As we got inside the cove, Teddy was standing on a point of land directly ahead of us. I wasn't surprised. I'd eliminated most other considerations. The fact Pop and Mr. Aleksa cooked it up seemed to point in his direction, but I wasn't sure what we were doing here.

We jumped out of the raft and hugged our brother. Tears streamed down Teddy's face. He too had a greater appreciation for the family he'd been separated from for the first time in his life.

I remembered the flare gun and I fired it at the mouth of the cove so it went in the direction of the Vilnius Two and stayed about three feet off the water. I listened for the engines to start before going back to the reunion.

I was choked up and firing the flare got my emotions under control. Having my brothers together again made me feel good. Teddy couldn't stop crying. He hadn't seen any of his family since he moved into the anti-war underground. He'd always been independent. His display of emotion betrayed his deep feelings for us. We hadn't seen this side of him before. Teddy kept his feelings hidden until now.

I was filled with emotion. I couldn't recall being that happy to be with my brothers. Being separated strengthened the loose bond we shared growing up. We'd all matured and were meeting on equal ground for the first time. The Olson boys had grown up.

*****

Teddy had a place where we could stash the raft out of sight. If we'd been followed they'd have to work to find us. We were so busy talking that we never looked back at the mouth of the cove.

Walking along the bank, it narrowed to a point where we hardly had enough room to put our feet. At some point we followed Teddy into the underbrush. I couldn't see a foot in front of me. We had to protect our faces with our hands, but in a few dozen yards we broke out onto a well worn path.

It ended up at a substantial clearing surrounded by what I'd describe as a jungle. We might have been a mile from the cove. It could have been ten feet on the other side of the undergrowth.

“I'm the head gardener. I grow our food here and in three other places within a half hour's walk. We only stay here, our base camp, when we are expecting supplies or in this case, a visit. This way if we are discovered, they find this camp and don't look for more.”

“You'd be hard to track,” John-Henry said.

“That's the idea. There are eleven of us at the moment, not counting you guys. Some are here with me and the rest are at our secondary camp where we actually live. If things don't look or sound right, we move to the backup camp, which is deeper in the Glades.”

“You all draft dodgers?” Brian asked.

“There are three draft resisters counting me. There are five girls and six men at present. Two of the men have been in Vietnam. One deserted the day he got back to the States from Vietnam. I've asked him to talk to you, John-Henry. He was there. He knows what it's like. He calls himself an anti-war veteran.

“Taylor has a written history of the French and now American involvement in Vietnam. He's agreed to talk to you and let you read his written history. He travels to wherever draft resisters gather. He's a smart dude, but you'll find out. He's involved in an anti-war underground that has safe houses and information to help young men who refuse to kill because someone says they want them to do it.”

“Cool,” John-Henry said. “I'm not resisting anything, Teddy. I'm going. I won't break the law.”

“I know that John-Henry. You don't have to tell me where you stand. It's why I went to Pop. I asked for the meeting with you. He understood why. I don't want my brother walking into danger without knowing what he's facing.

“The army isn't interested in telling you the truth, if they're even aware of the truth. Pop said he'd arrange for the meeting. He saw the wisdom in it. I wasn't expecting all my brothers,” Teddy said. “But I'm happy to see you.”

“I want all the information your friend has. I'd like to talk to a man who has been there,” John-Henry said.

“You just said more than I think I've ever heard you say, Teddy,” I said.

“I didn't have anything to say then, Clay. I do now.”

“You're going to tell John-Henry about the army and war?” Brian said without believing it. “Teddy, you're a trip. You been smoking that whacky weed?”

“I can't tell John-Henry anything, but there are people here who can. I've read the history of Vietnam and French Indochina. It's an eye opening read. I thought John-Henry should read it.”

“I appreciate your concern for me, Teddy. I've worried about you. Guys came and asked me where you were. Called me out of ranks one morning. Put me in an office with two guys who didn't say who they were. They were looking for you. I told them you were at the house when I left for boot camp. They spent a couple of hours insisting I tell them your whereabouts. Persistent fellows.”

“Crew cuts, aviator glasses, in suits with super skinny ties?” I asked.

“Yeah, you saw them?” John-Henry asked.

“FBI. You'll see them again while you're here. They sit on the road near the end of our driveway from time to time,” I said.

“Good luck with that one. To be honest with you, I don't know where I am. Mr. Aleksa was told to destroy the compass settings for the cove once he starts back with you guys Sunday. I got them from Henry. He set up this camp and brings the supplies. He says there are dozens of coves like this along this section of coastline.”

“I don't even want to know where I am,” I said. “The FBI has been to the house. They follow us sometimes. When I'm going out with Mr. Aleksa, they're parked just up the highway from our driveway some days. I suppose they figure you'll drop by one day and walk right into their hands.”

“I'd never go to the house by road. Did they notice the Gulf of Mexico sits out our backdoor?” Teddy asked. “They need more agents.”

“No, Pop made them stand at the front door. He wasn't about to let them into his house. Not when they wanted one of his sons.”

“Good for him,” John-Henry said. “Pop would invite a stranger into his house for a cup of coffee.”

We laughed over how friendly Pop was to everyone.

“They are strange,” I said. “I wonder if they know how dumb they look dressed like the Bopsy-Twins.”

“They think we're all stupid,” Teddy said. “I'd never put Mama or Pop in jeopardy by going to the house. I planned to resist the war long before I was eighteen. I made contacts with the anti-war underground a year ago. They advised me and told me when it was time to disappear. They brought me here, after offering me a ticket to Canada and an introduction to the underground there.”

“Sounds well organized,” John-Henry said.

“They have a network of people who are determined to stop the war, John-Henry. They will be flooding Washington D. C. later this year. They intend to begin turning up the heat on the war machine,” Teddy said. “Taylor says they are currently organizing Vietnam Veterans Against the War. These guys have been over there. They didn't like what they saw.”

“Your peace and love crowd is going to be smashed,” Brian said. “They ain't going to let a bunch of hippies upset the apple cart. This is America. We go where we want to go. We take no shit off anyone.”

“That ought to make you feel better, John-Henry. Brian always has his mind on the pulse of America.”

“I'm here to listen, Teddy. I don't know anything about Vietnam.”

“The anti-war network is funded and organized by people a lot smarter than me. They don't think war is the answer in order to creating a peaceful world.”

“Sounds self-evident,” I said.

“Exactly! We are at war because someone, not the people, want this war. I've hear nothing that would make me want to fight. The people don't like their kids going over there to die for a slogan. It'll take time and we'll need to shed some blood to turn off the war machine. but the plan is to end this war.”

“You're willing to fight to stop the war but not fight the war,” John-Henry said.

“I am fighting the war right now. My only weapon is my feet. I refused to go. The organized opposition is just getting a foothold in this conversation. We are the people. We intend to make our voice heard. Our government is out of control. They've offered us no reason why we should go to Vietnam to kill Vietnamese, except they say so.”

“I hope I live to see it,” John-Henry said. “I don't like war.”

That thought worked its way around the Olson boys.

“We're citizens of this country. It's our duty to go and fight when our government tells us to,” Brian said. “It's always been that way.”

“It's your duty to think about what your government is asking you to do and see if perhaps they've gone off the rails.”

Even four brothers stood on every side of the war. John-Henry didn't know how to be honorable and do something other than go where he was told to go. Teddy dropped out and I would too if it came to that. Brian wanted to go to fight the Commies.

We met the people in camp. We ate their food and had short conversations. It wasn't much different than meeting people anywhere. It was a bit awkward with curiosity on the side.

Teddy showed us the supply tent. Everything was elevated under canvas and in big bags. There were beans, rice, flour, sugar, coffee, and some boxed and packaged goods you'd find in any kitchen. They had plenty of food and that's before I saw Teddy's garden. I could tell he took a lot of pride in the variety of food he grew.

The garden was full of vegetables. The tomatoes were ripening and peppers and green beans were ready to pick. The berries and fruit could be picked and eaten while you walked.

Mama would have had a field day in Teddy's garden.

We caught up on each other's lives after eating beans, rice, and a raspberry apple mixture. The people were OK. The guys had long hair. My hair was short from school. It would be as long as Teddy's by summer's end.

*****

A tall thin boy in a fatigue shirt sat down with us. On his shirt was stenciled Taylor. offering us a drink from a bottle he carried, he sat among us. I thought of Indians with their peace pipe.

As tradition would dictate, we each took a swig from the bottle as he passed it around. The liquid had a kick. One swig was enough.

John-Henry drank with Taylor, who was polite and said nothing outrageous. I'm not sure what I expected but the bespectacled thin lad wasn't it. He was clean with short hair and he spoke in a manner that made me think he knew what he was talking about.

Once he'd grown accustomed to being among us, he moved close to John-Henry and spoke in a confidential voice, but I heard every word. Since we hadn't exchanged names, instinct told him who to direct his comments to. Once he began talking, he didn't stop.

He didn't tell John-Henry about the war. He talked about what he'd seen and the people he met. He described experiences he had while “in-country and he'd been there over eleven months.”

Taylor knew where John-Henry would enter Vietnam and told him what to expect as the company he trained with was disassembled to resupply whatever rifle squad was short handed. It didn't take a genius to figure out how they came to be short of men.

This was a point Taylor emphasized. He told John-Henry that no matter where he was inserted, he needed to make friends fast. It was the new guy who died before he could learn the ropes.

The men with experience didn't get close to 'new meat.' They had a habit of dying fastest, before they knew enough to stay alive.

I listened closely because I wanted to hear what Taylor said. I wanted to be able to tell Ivan when he asked, 'What did he say?”

Taylor spoke about the Vietnamese. They weren't gooks, VC, slopes, or Charlie. He called them by name. He was befriended by Lam and Li, who came on base to take care of the soldiers.

Taylor was stationed at Da Nang. Besides a little mortar fire, he was rarely close to the fighting. He'd met the families of Lam and Li.

It took six months for him to receive the invitation. Most soldiers treated the Vietnamese like they were the foreigners. Taylor didn't doubt that both men were VC. At night they helped in the effort to expel the invaders of their country.

“They didn't tell me they were VC but they were too polite and cool not to be. They showed none of the nervousness most locals showed around the soldiers. My interest in their traditions and customs won them over. They could tell I sincerely wanted to know them as people. I never treated them like servants.”

Then he leaned close to John-Henry and spoke more softly, “One day Lam brought my laundry. He waited until there was no one in earshot. He was dusting next to where I sat and he'd never done that before. He warned me to stay on the base that evening. I asked him why. He said, 'bad idea today.' I told a sergeant who I knew to be a big mouth. 'I've heard there will be trouble off base today. Might want to stay close, Sgt.'”

“He warned you?” I asked.

“He did. There was only one way he'd know there would be trouble around the local spots where soldiers went. He wanted to keep me safe. He knew I'd know he was VC but he wasn't my enemy. After the bombings the Sgt. wanted to know how I knew. I said I'd heard it from someone in the barracks. So I may owe my life to Lam. He knew I ate at a local place in the evening.”

“At night men like Lam,” Taylor said in a soft voice, “Put on their black pajamas, the uniform of the Viet Cong, and went about undermining the American war effort. You could never tell which of the handsome polite people might be out in the shadows with their AK-47, waiting for an opportunity to rid their country of an American.”

“So they don't hate us?” John-Henry inquired.

“They are gentle people. After the warning, Lam invited me to eat at his house. Li was there with his wife. Lam had a pretty wife and three beautiful kids and an AK-47 in the corner. We'd declared a truce and never talked about the war.”

“That's amazing,” I said. “You were breaking the rules.”

“The first job I have is to educate myself. I ate with Lam because he was my friend. He invited me to eat with me because I was his friend. We weren't at war and my country saying I was didn't matter.”

“Will I meet people like him?” John-Henry asked.

“Depends on where you are. The combat troops don't get into town that often. They're also far more hostile to the Vietnamese. They are trying to kill each other. I had a safe duty assignment. I was no threat to anyone. I wasn't at war with anyone.”

*****

Leaving Ivan behind was a first. He left me when he went to see his mother at times. I'd never left him before. He was on my mind but being with my brothers without any distractions was an experience I was glad I had. It was a first too.

Teddy had seen Pop twice and Mama once. It was as carefully arranged as our visit. Pop knew who to leave a message with to get it to Teddy. He also knew that Teddy might or might not respond.

I suppose the FBI could arrest us for failing to give up Teddy to them, but Olsons didn't betray their own. They'd have to lock us up. We weren't stupid. We wouldn't inadvertently lead them to Teddy. While I lived a simple life and considered myself lucky not to need a lot of stuff that would slow me down, Teddy and his clan were the definition of simplicity. Except for a guitar, some bongos, and bows and arrows, they had nothing to pack when they left.

If someone told me that I'd leave Ivan to go with my brothers to camp out in the Everglades, I'd have laughed, but I enjoyed those three days. I learned quite a bit that I'd tell Ivan, and I watched my brothers get along for the first time. I'm glad I didn't miss that.

I was happy we had the opportunity to spend those days together. It would be a long time before the four of us were together again. Life was about to become very complicated for three of us. Brian would be content to stay in the wind, driving America's highways, and never needing to look over his shoulder.

Once we were back at the cove, I could only think of Ivan. I did hug and whisper in my brother's ear, “I love you, Teddy,” before I left him to follow his conscience.

It wasn't the kind of thing the Olson boys did, but I learned something from the Aleksa brothers. Teddy cried as he waved goodbye. He knew the road he was on would take him a long way from his family. He knew it might never be safe for us to see him.

For me it was a matter of missing Ivan at night when I slept in a shelter that had been designed and erected in less than an hour. The palm leaves made for comfortable sleeping, but I had trouble sleeping without my lover's arms around me. Nothing could replace that.

We heard the engines of the Vilnius Two rumbling just off shore. We rowed out of the cove to meet it.

I didn't look back. I knew Teddy was still there. We'd said our goodbyes. Looking back would only remind me of wasted time when we could have been friends.

I knew more about Teddy from those three days than I knew about him before. I liked him.

Teddy was cool.

Chapter 28

Fish Tales

I was the first one back on the Vilnius Two and I wasted no time heading straight for Ivan, hugging him tightly, letting my cheek linger on his to feel the love pass between us. Whenever I touched Ivan, the love was all around me.

“I love you,” I said in his ear.

Whatever the rest of them saw, no one paid much attention to us. I sat very close to Ivan as the Vilnius Two sailed back to the cove.

There was no one to notice where we'd been or where we were coming from. The holds were suitably full for three days of fishing.

If someone nosed around about how the fishing went this week, Mr. Aleksa came back with twelve more dollars than last Sunday. I don't know if arrangements were made to get that outcome.

I was keenly aware of what we'd done and that there would be people offended by our actions. In that case I wanted to know if we were being watched. If anyone was watching they weren't around when we eased back into our slip at the marina. As tuned into our surroundings as I was, there was nothing to see.

Pop sat as the lonely vehicle in the marina parking lot. He stood beside his truck looking north up the highway, once he got out. The message was clear. He'd been followed. After the signal was sent. He was soon walking out on the dock to greet us.

“Any trouble?” Pop asked, as he extended a hand for John-Henry to come off the boat. “You didn't get seasick?”

“No, sir. Smooth as silk,” John-Henry said.

“The FBI is back. They followed me from the house. I'll take you and Brian back with me. Clay, stick with your regular routine.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, staying alert.

“Mama's got dinner on. When you boys get to the house, come on down. Nick, you come too. Plenty of food for working men. Bring Kenny. Mama would love to put some meat on his bones.”

“I appreciate it, John. I've got some business to do, but thanks for the offer. Thank the Mrs,” Mr. Aleksa said. “Can hardly get Kenny away from the boat.”

“Thanks, Mr. Olson. I'm fine,” Kenny said.

“Run into any trouble, Nick?” Pop asked casually.

“Not a hitch. Right on the money. I could have sailed right into the cove on those numbers. Whoever took the reading should consider map making.”

“Glad to hear it. Thanks, Nick. I owe you one,” Pop said.

“You've already paid in full. Clay's worth his weight in gold to me. Never knew a man to take to the sea like he did who wasn't from a seafaring family to begin with. His sons will all be sailors, John.”

“A fine profession for these parts,” Pop said.

Sticking to our Sunday routine, we were at the house before four. Mr. Aleksa dropped us off so we could clean up and go to dinner. He left to take Kenny to get smokes and things he'd need for the next week.

As quick as Ivan's father closed the door, I threw a lip lock on Ivan. Once more I grabbed hold and didn't want to let go. I was never more glad to see him.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing my neck as we stayed glued together.

“Teddy's got a long road ahead of him. It upset me when we had to say goodbye. I don't know if I'll ever see him again.”

“You will. You worry about everything. You don't think this war will last forever do you?”

“The FBI is after him, Ivan. They aren't nice people and they don't give up easy.”

“That's what they want you to think. They're just people who think they ought to hound us into acting the way they say.”

“Us?” I asked.

Ivan was halfway out of his clothes as I admired the shape he was in.

“Come on, worrywart. Let's go for a swim and then we can get ready to go eat. I'm starved.”

“You'll be more starved if we go swimming,” I said.

“Yeah!” he said with a smile.

“Come on. I'll race you to the gulf.”

Since he was naked and I was fully clothed, I took my time. I knew we'd end up on the logs. We didn't need to be at my house until seven. That gave us plenty of time. I needed some time with him. I felt like we'd been apart forever and I wanted to make up for lost time.

*****

“How'd it go?” Ivan asked, as he caught his breathe.

“You tell me. I did all the work. You just laid there and let me,” I said with a smirk as I leaned on my elbow and looked at him. “When I've been away from you since Friday, and we get back together, when I ask you, 'How'd it go.' I don't mean with me. Unlike you, I'm not always thinking about sex.”

“I'll remind you of that the next time you wake me up in the middle of the night and say, 'I'm horny. I can't sleep.'”

“I never said I didn't think about it,” he said smiling. “I do have you sleeping next to me. So you bear much of the responsibility for my condition in the middle of the night. After I wake you up, I can hardly keep up with you.”

“Especially once you start kissing on me. You do act helpless.”

“OK, so I love you. I can't help it. If you weren't so sexy, we'd get more sleep.”

“I get plenty of sleep,” I said.

“There you go again. I told you,” he said. “So, How did it go?”

“Fine.”

“Didn't want to ask you before we got comfortable and had time to talk. Don't mind telling you, I'm curious about what Teddy's up to.”

“Surprisingly, he's with some good people. They are well prepared. His hair is down to his shoulders now. It's turning red,” I said still amazed.

“Lucy isn't the only redhead in the family after all,” Ivan said. “Yours gets more blond when it grows out.”

“It's sun bleached. Mama had red hair until she was in her twenties. Teddy's hair was blond. It was always short before.”

“He OK?” Ivan asked. “He's living pretty far out on the edge.”

“Better than OK. He knows what he's doing. The people he's with know what they're doing. He's in charge of the gardens.”

“They all draft resisters?”

“No, not even. Two guys have been there. One was a lieutenant who deserted once he was back in the States. Said he wouldn't do anything to support the war.”

“Speaking of on the edge. He's looking at some serious time.”

“He's smart too. I guess there are people who have principles they can't violate. Once he saw what was going on, he was against it.”

“That was Taylor. He spent some time with John-Henry. He's why Teddy wanted John-Henry to come to their camp. He didn't expect the rest of us though. He was happy to see us.”

“I didn't think Teddy had that much to do with you,” Ivan said.

“Didn't. You never know about someone. He was always the most independent kid, but he came home every night until now. He was emotional when he saw us. He was even more emotional when we left.”

“Did you learn anything?” Ivan asked, moving so our bodies touched again. “You are fine, aren't you?”

“Yes, and I'll remember in a minute. I can't think with you sitting so close to me. Actually, I can think but not about what went on while I was with Teddy.”

“I could go to Tampa,” he said without convincing me.

I leaned until our lips met, and the kiss heated things up considerably. I kissed him again, or he kissed me.

“No, I can't,” he said. “This is way better than Tampa. Tell me what you learned and I'll let you kiss me some more, Clayton. I'll even put my arm around you to keep you from falling off the log.”

“We've been having sex on this log fairly often and I have never once fallen off,” I reminded him.

“We'll keep trying,” he said. “You saying I'm not keeping you from falling off this log by putting my arm around you? That's why you've never fallen off.”

“It's better if I don't roll off,” I said. “I tend to lose my place when I do that.”

“Yeah, but I need some grub before we hit the sheets. Then you can show me what you've learned,” he said, brushing his lips against mine, tightening his arm around my waist as he studied my face. “I sure do love you, cutie pie.”

“I can't remember what I was saying?” I said. “I had rabbit stew. Did I mention that.”

“I'll keep it in mind,” Ivan said. “Rabbit stew? We have rabbits around here.”

“Around the Glades too,” I said.

“Rabbits?”

“Oh, yeah, we had rabbit stew,” I said.

He kissed me.

“I heard that somewhere....”

His kisses became a kiss.

He leaned me back as our bodies pressed together in a most exciting way. I dreamed about him at night while we were separated. I dreamed about him when we weren't separated.

Being with him was a better deal.

“We need to get ready to go to dinner. It's after six,” Ivan said, sounding certain.

“Already? We just got here,” I complained, holding his head so I could get some more of those kisses off him.

“Two hours ago,” he said after another five minutes. “I want to know what you learned.”

“It's surprisingly difficult to think when you're kissing me, Ivan. To talk too. That's not to say I want you to stop.”

“I'll remind you to tell me after we come back from dinner. I'll restrain myself from kissing you until you tell me what you know. We've got three days to make up for. We need to start on that tonight now that we've done our warm up.”

“You think so?” I asked, kissing him, or he kissed me. “Did I mention I had rabbit stew?”

“Yeah, but what about this march on Washington? I want to hear about that. Sounds serious. Could be worth looking into.”

“Later this year is what Teddy said,” I said.

“Later when this year?”

“Didn't say,” I said. “Later.”

“Can your father get a message to Teddy?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes,” I said. “Later, when they might know more.”

“We need to keep an eye on that,” Ivan said.

“We do?” I asked, wrapping myself around him.

“The march? It's only June. Can we finish here first?”

“If we're going. I'm going,” I need to know more is all I'm saying,” he said.

“You want to go?” I asked, not having given it any thought.

“I can't wait. I intend to put my feet where my mouth is. If Teddy can get us a ride with him, we're in like Flynn. I'll write a note to him if your father will see he gets it.”

“Sure. Be better if I write it,” I said. “Pop won't think twice.”

“Cool,” Ivan said. “You going with me?”

“Let's see what Teddy says first. That way we know the facts so we don't get too far out in front of ourselves,” I said.

“That's my loveable revolutionary. Play it safe. Believe me when I say, it's as easy as rolling off a log.”

“I want to be sure of what I'm doing before I end up like Teddy. I can't say that's for me. You don't sound too sure about being sure.” “I want to march before they send my ass over there. I want to let them know where I stand on their war.”

“Over there?” I said, getting a sudden chill. “You'd go?”

“My love, I don't know what I'll do.”

“Would you kill someone, Ivan?”

“If it was my duty according to the masters of war? Not on your life. Could be a reason to be there. I can't think of one off hand.”

“One of us needs to consider the consequences of our actions.”

“Yes, one of us do. Maybe the one of us that worries a lot. I'm hungry. Difficult to be cautious when it's time to eat at your house,” he said, moving his arm before he stood to dive into the gulf.

Just seeing him move turned me on. I loved his body. I loved the ease with which he swam. I loved everything about him. Being away from him made me realize how much love I had for him.

*****

Ivan reached the kitchen before I came out of the water. By the time I caught up with him he was getting into the shower.

“Just right,” I said. “Thanks for getting my shower ready.”

“Nothing I won't do for the man I love,” he said, and we got busy soaping each other up so we could pass muster at my house.

After three days in the Glades, a shower was a nice idea.

*****

With John-Henry at the table, the details of our weekend in the Everglades was his department. I was sure he didn't miss anything and he'd decide what he wanted Mama and Pop to know. He began telling about his conversations with Teddy and he mentioned how much more mature Teddy seemed than before.

John-Henry expressed his admiration for Taylor without talking about the war. Mostly he wanted Mama and Pop to feel like Teddy was safe and with good people. He talked about the soldiers who had served over there and they made sure he had the information they thought would be important to him.

Mama and Pop didn't ask any questions. He was pleased by this. I could tell by the way he told it, he was trying to keep it simple.

Although John-Henry read the history of Vietnam Taylor wrote, he didn't mention it.

“I'll fill you in later,” I whispered to Ivan.

“By Teddy's description of Taylor, I didn't think I'd care for him, but he was an OK guy. He believed in his point of view but he made no attempt to convert me to his way of thinking.”

John-Henry mentioned the war-protest march on Washington. He had no details on that either but Pop would know what I was talking about when I gave him the note for Teddy.

“What do you think about Teddy marching against the war while you're in it?” Ivan asked.

“I think Teddy needs to do what he feels is right for him. I wouldn't want him going against his beliefs for me. He obviously has strong feelings about it. I believe from the conversations I had, they intend to stop the war,” John-Henry said.

“Stop the war?” Mama said. “How do you stop a war?”

“Raise a big enough fuss that more and more people refuse to go. If they can accomplish that, the war can't continue,” John-Henry said. “That's how they feel about it.”

“Last protest I heard about was maybe a few hundred people,” Pop said. “A thousand at most.”

“That was before our troops went from thousands to hundreds of thousands. There are more lives in the balance. More families like ours have sons over there.”

“Putting an end to war? That could catch on,” Ivan said. “I hope it happens in time to get you and Boris back home safely.”

“Thank you, Ivan. When is Boris going?” John-Henry asked.

“He'll leave for boot camp in July. He's saying goodbye to his girlfriends this month,” Ivan said. “They'll allow him an additional month if he requests it.”

“Sounds like a big job,” John-Henry laughed.

“I'm sure there are a couple of girls in Tampa he doesn't know. Got to figure they've been away,” Ivan said thoughtfully.

Brian broke out laughing as Mama dished out more beans as if she hadn't heard anything untoward.

“When will you ship out to Vietnam, John-Henry?” Ivan asked.

“I return from leave the middle of July. We have a few weeks of preparations and we should hit Vietnam in September.”

*****

John-Henry sat in on the card game after dinner. Mama served us rice pudding with raisins as we played rummy. I kept yawning and Mama came in with two bags of food for Ivan and me to take with us, indicating she thought it was time for us to go home. We usually didn't stay as long on Sunday evenings.

We ate what was still warm once we walked home and we restocked the fridge with what was left, heading upstairs with enough soda and ice to last the evening.

We sat on the deck. It was a beautiful evening.

“John-Henry didn't sound worried by Teddy's opposition to the war,” Ivan said. “He didn't get into much detail at the table. You sounded like you learned a lot from your visit. I get John-Henry doesn't want to upset your parents."

“The movement is growing. There are veterans against the war now. There was talk about that,” I said. “John-Henry is careful about what he says.”

“I didn't know it had reached the size of a movement,” Ivan said.

“It's how they referred to it in front of me. They have big ideas about stopping the war,” I said.

“Did John-Henry take offense at that?” Ivan asked.

“John-Henry talked to both soldiers who'd been in Vietnam. The camp is there for people against the war. There are two draft resisters plus Teddy. There are the two veterans of Vietnam. There are five women. Teddy seems to like a girl named Star. She seemed nice.”

“They sleeping together?” Ivan asked.

“I think so. I didn't watch. The shelters are made of huge palm leaves. Everyone has his own little spot. Teddy and Star were together a lot and their shelters are next to each other.”

“They're sleeping together,” Ivan said.

“They have gardens. They fish and have quite a stock of food in a storage tent. I saw a place with bows, arrows, spears.”

“Heavily armed and dangerous to rabbits. They better hope the FBI doesn't find them. Bows and arrows against the fervor of patriots didn't go well for the Indians.”

“Not likely. It would take work to get to where they are and they move around. They have military guys and keep a watch.”

“John-Henry learn anything more than he mentioned?”

“John-Henry spent most of his time with Taylor. He deserted after coming back from Vietnam. He knew a lot about it. He wrote a history of Vietnam war that came from knowing Vietnamese families. It was fifty pages long. He let John-Henry read it.”

“And you, my love? Did you happen to read it?”

“I did. Vietnam was a French colony and the Viet Minh was created to throw the French out of Vietnam. The French lost the battle of Dien Bien Phu and surrendered after the Viet Minh overran their main base of operations. You won't believe how they beat the French. These are some determined dudes.”

“Educate me. How do you rid a country of the French?”

“Cut off their wine?” I asked.

“You're cute even when you aren't funny,” Ivan said.

“I made a point of remembering this stuff because of how the Vietnamese beat the French. The French stronghold has a river in front of it. It would be suicide to try to attach them by crossing the river. Behind the French are some serious mountains. Anyone trying to attack by way of the mountains would have a very difficult time getting to them. It was a well protected spot.”

“Sounds to me like they're stuck with the French,” Ivan said.

“Sounds that way. The Viet Minh happen to be very resourceful. It is their country after all. They waited until the rainy season. We're talking torrential downpours lasting weeks on end.”

“Good time to catch up on your showering,” Ivan said.

“Good time to drag your artillery to the top of the mountains overlooking the French position.”

“That's sneaky,” Ivan said. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“All's fair in love and war. One at a time, using block and tackle, pulleys, and plain old fashioned manpower, the Vietnamese position their heavy duty artillery, compliments of the Soviets, to fire down on the French.”

“During the rainy season?” Ivan said.”

“Pours day and night. The French never look up. They don't hear anything but the rain. One day the Vietnamese open up with a nonstop barrage of cannon fire.”

“Oops. Never saw that coming. The Vietnamese had the high ground,” Ivan observed.

“Very high. By the time the fighting ended, they were going at it hand to hand inside the French base. The Vietnamese overran the French and they surrendered. And that's how you throw the French out of your country,” I said.

“Persistent folks. Cannon on top of mountains. Pretty clever for dumb peasants.”

“That was the key to victory,” I said.

“We haven't learned anything from the experience?” Ivan asked.

“We?”

“We, the people invading Vietnam. Did the Vietnamese decide they don't mind Americans doing what they didn't like the French doing?”

“Since it's called the Vietnam war, they might mind. When the French surrendered, there was a catch. French are persistent too.”

“They fake surrendered?” Ivan asked.

“They left their man in charge in the South. The North promised they'd be good if the French got the hell out of their country.”

“They were fake promising, I bet,” Ivan calculated.

“It's their country. Why would they agree to leave it split in half? They threw out the French. Ho didn't recognize the French having authority in Vietnam. He played along to get rid of them.”

“Sounds like these folks are good. We are there why?” he asked.

“As near as I can figure, we're there because the French aren't,” I said. “There were elections scheduled to reunite the country. We made sure that didn't happen.”

“We, as in Ike? He seemed like such a nice guy,” Ivan said.

“Nice to us. Not so nice if you're Vietnamese,” I said. “Then the U. S. sent advisers to help the South stay free with the French's man in charge.”

“The French occupy Vietnam. When they leave the country the Viet Minh is fighting to reunite, we stop them from reuniting it?”

“Sounds like what we did all right,” I said. “Kennedy sent more advisers once he was president.”

“Kennedy got snookered by the CIA at the Bay of Pigs. What they told him about it had little to do with the truth. Makes one wonder what advice he was getting from the Joint-Chiefs on Vietnam. He was a Northeastern Liberal. I don't think Kennedy would have bought the argument that we needed to replace the French.
"He sucked on foreign policy until he stopped the Ruskies in Cuba. We may be here because he was president. The military advised him to invade Cuba. Kennedy wasn't buying it. He may well have saved the world.”

“No good deed should go unpunished,” I said. “Kennedy beefed up our advisers in Vietnam his first year in office. My knowledge stops there. Ike stopped the reunification because Ho was going to win the election.”

“Who is Ho?” Ivan asked.

“He's the guy who was going to win the election.”

“Ho who?” Ivan asked.

“I only remembered Ho by thinking of Santa Claus,” I said. “He has more names but I don't remember those.”

“Santa Claus?”

“Yeah, ho, ho, ho!”

“I bet you'd be good at the Rorschach test.”

“I'll take your word for it,” I said. “He was in Paris when Wilson signed the treaty of Versailles to end some war or other way back.”

“Who?”

“Ho!”

“I just wanted to hear you say Ho again. What did Ho want with Wilson?” Ivan asked. “We seem to have a lot of wars we can learn from.”

“Ho admired George Washington. He wanted Wilson to help him establish a western style democracy in Vietnam,” I said. “I remind you, this is according to Taylor's history. I never knew Ho myself.”

“What did Wilson say to Ho?” Ivan asked.

“Nothing. The guys guarding Wilson ran Ho off. He went to Moscow to see how the Russian Revolution was going.”

“That's curious. He's asking us for help and we send him to the Russians? One would think we didn't see Vietnam in our future.”

“Ho wrote Truman after World War II and asked him if he'd help him establish a western style democracy in Vietnam.”

“Ho is Persistent,” Ivan said. “He wanted to be the George Washington of his country. I kind of like that.”

“Makes me think about those cannon,” I said. “He wrote Eisenhower to ask his help in establishing democracy in Vietnam.”

“He missed Kennedy? How did Ho miss Kennedy? What did Harry and Ike tell him?”

“Truman ignored him. Considered him a crank. Ike sent him word that we were allied with the French and couldn't help him. I guess once we invaded his country to keep the French's man in power, Ho gave up on us. What would George Washington say.”

“Nothing like opportunity lost,” Ivan said. “Ho Chi Minh. There's a road named after him. Ho Chi Minh something or other. Trail I think. I read about it in Time.”

“Those guys fighting the French were the Viet Minh. Ho Chi Minh's men I imagine. I do remember now. That was his full name. Sounds like we didn't need to have this war if someone in charge paid attention to the poor guy. He was dead serious.”

“That's the CIA's job. Tell the pres what's going down in the world. You don't think they'd misinform Ike?”

“Did a fine job with the Bay of Pigs,” I said. “Why are these people in charge? They're obviously unqualified.”

“I'd bet the masters of war are in the middle of this,” Ivan said.

“They are the primary suspects in my book,” I said.

“There's one question that comes to mind,” Ivan said. “Why would we go to war with a country of peasants who want our help to become like us?”

“You know all I know now. I'm no good with speculation,” I said. “This is Taylor's version of events. I don't know his sources. He talked to the Vietnamese he knew.”

“I'd bet he didn't get it out of our history books at school. He's obviously a traitor. Talking to Vietnamese to find out about Vietnam. What a dumb idea. Thank you, Clay. I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you listened.”

“And we are back to the North and South deal. Who thought that would work? We do have experience with that sort of thing,” I said.

“When do we learn to remember history?” Ivan asked.

“If we know their history, we're pretending we don't,” I said. “We as in us, the U.S.”

“It's possible we went into this because the Soviets helped Ho.”

“What are we after that's worth one American kid's life?” I asked.

“You think that's the first consideration. How many soldiers are going to die occupying a country half way around the world?”

“We, as in you and I, know the basic history of Vietnam. Our leaders might not think they need to know anything about a bunch of peasants,” I said.

“Worse yet, what if they know but don't care?” Ivan speculated. “What if the lives of American kids mean nothing to ambitious men? We, as in you and I, are expendable to them, the masters of war.”

“That's not a nice thought,” I said. “We come back to the masters of war and the people wielding the power.”

“My theory is, anyone seeking power shouldn't be allowed anywhere near power,” he said. “Ambitious men are dangerous men.”

“That's one way of putting it,” I said.

“Which brings us back to rabbit stew. Do I have to catch a rabbit and make stew to get you to sleep with me again? I can't remember the last time we slept together. You sound impressed by rabbit stew.”

“If someone gets a rabbit and fixes stew, I'll eat some. I don't want anyone killing a rabbit to make me stew. We slept together Thursday night. I was away for two nights. It's Sunday. We had sex on the log this afternoon. Pretty nice too, I don't mind telling you.”

“A mere snack, my lovely. I'm ready for the real deal,” Ivan said.

“I can only give you what I have, handsome. It'll have to do.”

“Best offer I've had since Thursday,” he said.

“And way better than rabbit stew,” I said.

“Yeah, and if I got a rabbit we'd have to name it. No telling where that would end up, and I have no idea how to make stew. Thursday? Are you sure? It seems way longer to me,” Ivan said.

“Well, lets go to bed so we have no doubt when our last time was,” I said. “More than one way to skin a rabbit.”

He leaned over to kiss me and I wrapped my arms around him. I was sure it was time for bed but not in the middle of our kiss.

I loved him so much.

*****

Chapter 29

Boy to Man

I knew Mama. She gave signals when I least expected them. When she said things that weren't complimentary to her government, it wasn't wise to chime in to agree. Mama was moving on uncertain turf. When emotion became involved with loyalty to her country, it wasn't always going to make sense. It was best for me not to assume anything.

Nakedness was small potatoes when compared to being unAmerican. Her family came first. Which was no surprise. While her children were no longer on the same page with her, she didn't hesitate to overlook the discrepancy.

While my heathen ways were long ago dismissed as child's play, Teddy's absence wasn't as easy to explain. We all knew why Teddy was gone, but Mama preferred to remember what a dependable hard working son he was and always would be.

Brian would never get such a ringing endorsement, but talking about Teddy in those terms was common, especially once contact was reestablished and we knew he was alive and safe and still free.

John-Henry's defense of Teddy's position was as American as apple pie, Mama, and all her kids. John-Henry was going to defend his country, even if we didn't know from what. He said it was his duty.

We weren't going to sit around the table discussing war protests, because we were all on different sides of the war. I'd never upset Mama by questioning the wisdom of the masters of war. I wasn't the smartest kid at the table and I didn't pretend I was.

Lucy was always the smartest one at our table. She sided with Mama on almost everything. She was in complete support of Teddy. She would defend me in love and war and did, being the only one to figure out that Ivan and I were lovers.

At thirteen Lucy was all in for love. She was unhappy that one of her brothers couldn't come to dinner because of her government's need to control the people and keep them silent. Lucy intended to change this and restore freedom and liberty to her country, and she'd never so much as ruffle one of Mama's feathers.

The FBI didn't know about Lucy yet, but they would. Before she graduated from high school in four years, she'd shut down her school in May of 1970. A lot of people would know her then. Lucy would say things at school she'd never say at our table.

Pop was in the midst of a conspiracy to keep his family as close as he could. Mama wasn't easy to read. She knew what went on in her family at all times. She said nothing while we were in defiance of the government that would put Teddy in the pokey for being Teddy if they got their way. They wouldn't. As they'd never convince the Olson family that the war was for their own good.

This didn't mean I didn't need to tiptoe around Mama when it came to my role in the rebellion. Most of what Ivan said made sense. Pure Ivan would be a bit much for Mama. While he made sense, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I needed to think about the things he said when he voiced his rebellious attitude.

While I'd follow Ivan anywhere then and now, he'd taught me that I had a brain and should use it from time to time.

I was in a holding pattern waiting for the answer to come. I didn't like uncertainty, but nothing anyone said made me certain. I didn't like it when I couldn't make up my mind what to do.

My family kept me off balance because all of them had opinions I wanted to respect. I wasn't sure how to do that and not lose their respect for me. Whoever said war was hell, knew what they were talking about.

The people I separated from and was happy to be rid of were back at the center of my life. More disturbingly, we were closer than we'd ever been before. We were all heading in different directions but we were doing it together. Our differences united us, because none of us were crazy or went off half-cocked; well maybe Brian.

I was seventeen and felt like I was going on twelve. When John-Henry left a couple of weeks after our visit with Teddy, I openly hugged him in front of everyone. I'd hugged him when he'd showed up at Ivan's the day he came home, but that was a private hug.

Hugging him in front of my family wasn't typical Olson behavior. I did not cry. I would not cry, but I felt like crying. John-Henry knew why I wouldn't cry in front of him. My brother had put his trust in me and I'd have to be a man if that day ever came.

*****

I approached Pop once the dust settled after our visit with Teddy. “Pop, can you get a message to Teddy for me?”

“I can. There's someone I leave a message with and they see to it that it's delivered. It's the best I can do, Clay.”

“That's fine. I'll give you a note for him. It's private,” I said.

“As you wish. I trust you aren't planning to do anything foolish?”

“No, I don't plan to do that. I do plan to do what I think is necessary,” I said. “I'm not sure what that is yet.”

“Good enough for me, son. You've made me proud and I trust your judgment. I want you and Ivan to be careful. Don't forget, we're being watched. Our government doesn’t approve of us.”

“I don't much care about them. I don't think they know I'm alive. I'm not old enough to draft. I think the FBI only has eyes for you, Pop.”

“Yes they do. I didn't know you knew that much. I give them a big target. I have nothing to hide as far as they know, but I want you to be careful, Clay. The FBI has power to do things we can't imagine.”

“You be careful, Pop. How is it safe to contact Teddy?”

“I'm not at liberty to say. There’s a network around the anti-war movement. Teddy made contact with me through them. I have a contact who gets messages to Teddy for me. I don't know his name. I go to a prescribed drop off point and leave the message. A week later I return for the reply. It's not express mail but it works.”

“Cool,” I said. “I'll have something soon.”

Life had become complicated around the Olsons. I wasn't a kid on a beach any more. There was intrigue danger, and drop off points for us to stay in touch. Powerful people had decided to hurt us.

I waited for another week before giving Pop the note for Teddy. He put it in his shirt pocket and said he'd get it to where it needed to go today.

I asked Teddy for the date of the march on Washington and if we could go with him if we decided to go.

The following Monday Pop gave me a note at dinner. Ivan was at home reading. He wanted me to bring him something hot. He wanted me to have time with John-Henry on his final few days at home. He knew he'd be a distraction because I only had eyes for him.

Pop passed me the note and I kept it to myself until I went to the bathroom to read it. The march was in mid-October. There would be transportation for anyone interested in going. He was excited that I was thinking about going. He'd send details once he had them.

“You and Ivan going?” Pop asked, as I was preparing to leave.

“I'm not sure, Pop. Ivan's gung ho. I haven't made up my mind.”

“Good! In spite of how close you are, you aren't joined at the hip, Clay. Being separated for periods won't hurt a strong friendship. Don't do something as radical as this if your heart isn't in it. I'll be proud of you no matter what you decide,” he said, putting his arm over my shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“Thanks, Pop. You read the note? I do want to see Teddy again.”

“Not your note. I eliminated the possibilities. John-Henry mentioning a march. I read Teddy's reply. Follow your instincts on this. Don't follow Ivan because he's going.”

“OK, Pop. I'm just not sure yet,” I said, as he walked with me to the kitchen door.

I turned and hugged him. My father was no longer intimidating, but touching each other was. I'd learned how good I felt when I was hugged. It was time I shared that with my family. I wasn't sure why my emotions were so close to the surface now, but they were.

“Teddy gave me something to give you,” Pop said, as we separated and he needed to transition.

He handed me a document that was folded over three times. It had an official looking seal on it.

“What's this?”

“It's the title to Teddy's car. You'll need to sign it and I'll get the tags for you. I don't want the FBI getting a fix on you. They're certain to be keeping an eye on Teddy's car. I'll make it safe before you can use it. Then you've got yourself a car.”

“I don't want his car. I've got no where to go,” I said. “I don't want to go anywhere. I'm fine right here.”

My first reaction was to reject taking Teddy's car. It was his. Somehow taking it was a sign that Teddy wasn't ever coming home. His refusal to be part of the killing meant he'd always be on the run.

“It's no good to him. It's paid for. It's in fine shape. He left it at Wynn Dixie. His boss is keeping an eye on it. Once I get Teddy’s name off the title, I'll tag it and bring it home.”

“I don't have my license,” I said.

“You don't know how to drive?” Pop asked.

“That's not what I said. Sure I know how to drive. I'm not a dufus, Pop. Ivan taught me after he got his license. In case of trouble. Remember Mr. Aleksa's accident? He wanted me to know how to drive.”

“I should have thought of that,” Pop said. “Teddy doesn't want the car going to rust. You boys can do your own shopping and let Nick take a break. Bring Kenny to dinner one time. Nick says he never leaves the boat except to go with the other fisherman sometimes.”

“I asked him to come to my birthday party last year. I told him we'd take him back when he wanted. He told me he belongs on the boat. It's where he's comfortable. He feels safe there. Something pretty bad must have happened to him, Pop.”

“And something good happened when Nick took him in. Kenny's as much a son as Boris and Ivan,” Pop said. “I'll need you to sign the title. We'll get tags for it and drive it from time to time. Maintain it. Maybe Teddy won't be in hiding for that long.”

“You might want to consider Canada,” I said. “It's not safe here. Teddy's the enemy and your government has declared war on your son, Pop. Ivan read there are draft resisters going to Canada so they are out of reach of our government there.”

My father stared at me like he didn't know me. I watched the recognition appear on his face. He realized the truth in what I was saying.

I had a brother going to war. I didn't want one going to prison. I wanted Teddy out of the reach of the masters of war.

I'm not sure men like my father understood what boys coming of age in America felt like. The men of my father's generation went to war to save the world from murdering Fascists. It was a noble cause no one questioned. They never wavered until the deed was done.

Kids my age saw nothing noble about killing peasants in their own country. We'd been taught right from wrong.

*****

Ivan was ready to march. He was sure of himself. He was smarter than me because he wanted to know everything. I didn't need to know that much. I wasn't as sure of myself as he was.

What I wanted was to live a peaceful life and be left alone. It was becoming more and more obvious, that wasn't happening. I'd have to make a stand somewhere. The march would be a place to start.

Nothing had changed. I wanted to stay on my beach. I didn't particularly want to march. I wanted to spend more time with Teddy. I wanted nothing to do with the assholes who ran things.

The problem with that, the assholes weren't going to leave me or the people I loved alone. I needed to do something. I wasn't killing anyone but would I be part of making trouble for the masters of war?

We had most of the summer ahead of us. It was almost time to forget about the trouble. Then there was school, which brought Mama into play. Washington was a thousand miles away. I'd checked. It would take a whole day to get there and a whole day to get home. I'd miss one or two days of school if I marched.

Crossing Mama wasn't a good idea. Missing school was a good way to get her attention. I'd figure out what to do when it was time.

*****

The night the message came from Teddy, I spent a long time thinking about my apprehension over what was coming. Ivan often went to bed before I did, which usually got me to bed pretty quick.

On this night the amount of information I had kept going around and around inside my head.

“You coming to bed tonight? I'm lonely,” Ivan said, as I pondered what was ahead of me.

“You're horny. It feels a lot like being lonely. Tie a knot in it and I'll be there in a few minutes.”

“Ouch! What's eating you? You've become difficult, Clay. You didn't use to be difficult when I mentioned bed.”

“Teddy gave me his car,” I said.

“Cool,” he said.

“I don't want his car. I'm not going anywhere. I intend to stay right here.”

“You're like Kenny,” Ivan said. “If you pretend the world doesn't exist, it might leave you alone.”

“I suppose I am. I'm not exactly afraid but I don't like what's out there. Hell, I don't know a half dozen kids at school I'd give the time of day to elsewhere. I go along to get along. It's all about getting back here.”

“That's because I'm here,” Ivan said confidently.

“It's because I hate assholes.”

“You're a tough one. You give me the time of day,” Ivan bragged.

“I love you. It's required when you love someone.”

“Oh,” he said, accepting his loses. “If you love me you'll come to bed.”

“It seems so hopeless,” I said. “Most people buy into this war, you know. America right or wrong! Love it or leave it! It's easy for the old farts to say it's a good idea to send the kids over there.”

“I agree with you, Clay. What do we do about nitwits? We can't stop the war if we don't leave the beach. We can stay here and hope when the war comes to Florida they'll miss our beach. Or we can stop it now by speaking up now,” Ivan said, being fired up by the war.

“You really think that by marching around Washington the war will stop?”

“If we march around Washington the people who think like we do might get off their asses and join us. Most people agree with us, and we fight the wars. There should be a damn good reason to fight one. We're still waiting to hear why we're fighting this one.”

He was right. To have the peace and freedom I wanted, I had to leave where the peace and freedom were most obvious to me. If I stayed on the beach, sooner or later they'd come for me as they had come for Teddy.

“Now will you come to bed? We'll be on the boat tomorrow. I don't mind performing for Kenny, I'm pretty good at it if you don't mind me saying so. I'd like to preform just for you tonight.”

“Cool your tool, dude. I'll be there in a minute and you can show me what you can do.”

*****

With a six day workweek one week, followed by a three day workweek the next week, we were on the boat a lot that summer. This made it feast or famine for love. We didn't pass up a chance to make love if we got one, but opportunities were limited on a forty foot boat.

It was surprising how inventive you could be in a pinch on a boat with little privacy. It didn’t matter how creative we were, once in a while we became aware that Kenny was smiling at us. This didn't happen often enough to be called a habit, but when you are in the middle of one of your most passionate moments with the man you love, someone watching tends to distract you.

Kenny would be blushing, but he wasn't so embarrassed he looked away before backing away saying, “Oops! Excuse me. Sorry.”

At times like these we might find it difficult to finish what we started while laughing our asses off. Luckily we were quick to recover our libido. We were believers in finishing what we started. No telling when we'd get another chance. A quick recovery was beneficial.

We were always on the Vilnius Two that summer, or so it seemed. July stayed relatively mild without persistent intense heat. We hit 90 a few days but it stayed in the middle to upper 80s on most days. The sea breeze made it comfortable.

Fishing had been good and the work was steady.

*****

As pleasant as the summer was, time was sailing along. School was starting soon. I'd been waiting for this year since I started school. It was almost here. Ivan and I were seniors. The pressure was off. There was no danger of failure if something unforeseen didn't occur.

Before meeting Ivan I didn't know I had a thought process. With life directly ahead of me, I had too many thoughts to know what to do. Ivan called this worrying. I wanted to do what I liked. I wanted to do some good. It wasn't clear how I'd accomplish this.

“If you wait for opportunities to come knocking, you won't need to worry so much, Clay.”

“Ivan, if I don't think about what I'm going to do, how will I know what to do?”

“You aren't thinking about anything. You're worried about what is going to happen when nothing is happening. You're still in school. You have a job, a home... two homes, and you're worried about what to do. You're doing it, dude. Wait a minute and you'll see that.”

“I've been waiting. No one is knocking on anything,” I complained.

“Geez! Worry then. I'd hate to interrupt that.”

I wanted to be with Ivan. I wanted to fish with his father. I wanted to be outdoors to make more discoveries about the beautiful world in which I lived. I couldn't figure out how anything I did could be confused with work. That worried me big time.

Some days Ivan and I talked about our future, school, fishing, and how much love was too much love.

'Did two men who loved each other have more rights than two boys who loved each other?'

As individuals we had all the rights as anyone else. As a couple, we had no right to be together. We had no protection from outside forces who would like to hurt us because we did love each other.

Our culture made a point of excluding Ivan and me because we loved each other. It wasn't personal. They hated any two men who love each other. Somehow the idea it wasn't us made it less palatable. We were growing up and gaining rights, until we fell in love, and then people were out to get us.

With the state the world was in, a little more love and a little less hatred couldn't hurt anything. It didn't look like our society was in the mood for love. There was quite a market for hatred through.

While I didn't give a hoot about my culture's disappointment in the person I fell in love with, they insisted my love for Ivan made me eligible to be hated. In the larger scheme of things, while pondering love and hatred, I'd hang onto my love for Ivan every time.

I was positive that people who hated didn't need a reason. It didn't matter how nice Ivan and I were.

Hatred was a lot like war. You picked a group to go after. People who hated weren't likely to love anyone but themselves. Those two forces couldn't exist in the same heart. Not if you knew how to love.

“I don't think you can be loved too much,” Ivan said, after agreeing that people in our area wouldn't like us being in love. “I know when I've had enough. The difficulty with that is, it's a lot like potato chips. Five minutes after I've had enough, I want more. With you it only takes two minutes.”

“But can you make love so much it isn't healthy for you?” I asked. “We make love a lot, Ivan. I mean two or three times a day.”

“This is what we're going to worry about now. There's only one way to find out,” he said, taking my hand. “We can answer this question with a little experimenting and I'd see you're ready to rock and roll.”

I knew what he meant but I looked down anyway.

It wasn't a good idea for us to talk about sex. We were never going to answer the question, because the question led us to thinking about having more sex.

So far, if there were limits, we hadn't found them, but I wasn't really looking. I was having too much fun to think about having too much sex. I'd heard you lose interest in sex when you get old. We'd both be eighteen in the next year. I wondered if that was when we began to lose interest. There was only one way to find out.

As long as I was with Ivan, it was all good. Sometimes it was great.

*****

Shortly after school started, we got a letter from John-Henry telling us about the trip from California to Vietnam. We'd get a letter about once a week. My father continued to read them at the table. All of John-Henry's letters were placed on the table next to the staircase. We could read them if we liked.

There was no mention of war. John-Henry talked about his best friend, Andrew Hastings, Andy. He was from Colorado. They'd gone through boot camp and advanced infantry training together.

They were assigned to the same rifle squad after John-Henry asked his sergeant to see if he couldn't put them together in a squad that needed two men. The rest of the men John-Henry knew and trained with disappeared into the fog of war.

If he was involved in the fighting, he didn't mention that. His letters read like he was off at boy scout camp. While it didn't sound all that bad, I remembered where he was and why he was there.

It kept me from running down to enlist. Although at seventeen, Mama would have chained me to the wall before she'd sign for me to join the military.

The first letter from Boris appeared on the table on Ivan's side of he bed. Until there were five, I didn't pay much attention. Ivan did not read them to me and he didn't invite me to read them. They were addressed to Ivan and while I was tempted to read one, I didn't. I was happy they kept coming.

I knew where Boris was in training by John-Henry's letters. Boris was still safe and still in the States. It's what came to mind when I looked at the growing pile of letters. I worried about John-Henry.

There was nothing to worry about. Boris would be fine. John-Henry would be fine. I still worried. I didn't tell Ivan this.

*****

As good as everything was for me, everyone wasn't so fortunate. Mama took me aside one day to tell me it was time for me to take some of the workload off Pop. As with so much that went on beyond my well ordered life, helping my father hadn't come to mind.

Only once in my life did I see my father as anything but a good man who led our family. I'd always seen Pop as the man who sat at the head of what had become a rather diverse family. He'd only failed me once, when he forced me to give up the only life I'd known to go halfway across the country to the beach where we now lived.

For me that seemed like the end of the world at the time.

I don't think I got over my anger with my father for months, until it was clear Ivan and I were forming what even at the time felt like a once in a lifetime friendship. This got Pop off the hook.

The pain over leaving Tulsa was inside me. It was a bad experience that turned out well. My father led me to the perfect place where I finished growing up and made the perfect friend. I'd never have been this happy in Tulsa. I wasn't happy when I was in Tulsa.

“Clayton, you've had life your way since you got here. I've made few demands on your time. Your father had both John-Henry and Brian working for him the last couple of years and both of them are gone now. No one wants to work at the conservancy, even if it is mostly about being at the beach. Kids just don't want to work today.

“I'm not asking you to leave Mr. Aleksa. Just give some of your days off to your father. He's not getting any younger, you know,” Mama said in a way that I couldn't ignore.

“Sure Mama. I'll help Pop out. Pop isn't getting old, Mama.”

“None of us is getting any younger, Clay. He needs the kind of help John-Henry gave him. He'd never ask you. He's always giving to you boys. He never asks his sons for anything and he needs help.”

I knew it wasn't asking a lot and I enjoyed being with my father. We weren't together that often but before I went home I drove back to the conservancy to see if he needed anything that day.

Pop stressed he didn't want me taking time off from the boat. He considered that my job. The kind of things he needed me to do was mostly driving around. It was routine maintenance and trash collection John-Henry did. When I did it, it shortened Pop's day by a couple of hours.

It was a long way to the end of the island and back. It took an hour to go one way if you drove the speed limit. I didn't. It was still several hours to make a round trip and do all the trash cans. I stayed within sight of the beach the entire time. I didn't mind that.

The new arrangement took up what was left of my free time. It gave me quite a bit of time with Pop. I didn't go to the end of the island everyday. Some days it wouldn't be busy and we could go to lunch or for a cup of coffee.

That's not all there was to it. Within a couple of days I met most of the people at the conservancy. There were other employees, the board, and the man who ran the show. I met him last.

The conservancy was involved with preserving Sanibel Island as a pristine environment. Nothing I did was hard work, but I guess it was work. The pay wasn't much and Pop banked it for me. Mr. Aleksa still paid me in cash. Except for what went into Teddy's gas tank, it mostly went into the jar on top of the fridge.

I was still going to school. I was still fishing for Mr. Aleksa. I was now an official employee of the conservancy.

My worries were reduced if not ended. Maybe this was what it was supposed to be like once you grew up. You couldn't really plan for it. Things happened that led to other things happening.

The first few days kept me busy. I didn't see it leading anywhere, but I didn't know where to look either.

I did come to work for my father with a history. I wasn't without skills or knowledge. I brought experiences with me. I didn't see how any of it applied to picking up trash on the island, but the conservancy was about more than picking up the trash. Any conservancy should be, although I knew nothing about that then.

It was all about the trash those first few days. I was getting my feet wet and Pop was doing what he did. I soon knew his routine.

I could do this for a while and pretend I was at the beach.

Pop seemed pleased to have me around and I liked being around. At day's end we went home to dinner together. Ivan dropped me off after school, driving Teddy's car back home.

I had my first job, part-time.

Life was coming for me whether I liked it or not.

Chapter 30

The Future Is Now

After working for Pop a few days, I'd met everyone at the conservancy but the big cheese. He didn't come every day and Pop kept saying he wanted me to meet him. I was referred to most often as John's final son. All the rest of the Olson boys had been this way. It put things into perspective.

I was polite and smiled a lot. They were polite and smiled back. I kept telling myself I could do this in spite of all the people.

It was frequently mentioned that I was filling John-Henry's shoes, when I wasn't in school, or fishing, or fooling around with Ivan, only I didn't bother to mention Ivan to people I hardly knew. After I settled in, he'd come to work with me after school.

One day Pop showed me something that got my attention. He'd waited until Harry was there to show me. Harry hadn't been there the first week I worked at the conservancy.

Harry brought resources with him. I brought desire with me. This was the day the his resources met my desire. It began a relationship that spanned the rest of Harry's life and much of mine. On the first day it was a matter of figuring out where I stood.

At the time Pop opened the door to the biology laboratory, it surprised me. I didn't know why he hadn't shown it to me before. He didn't try to explain what Harry had in mind. He showed me the lab and intended to let Harry explain it to me.

There were shelves with jars that contained specimens of sea life. Empty jars were in boxes along one wall. Beside the boxes were five gallon containers of formaldehyde. I didn't see it as a biology laboratory, but I did see a hint of my future.

“I thought you'd like to spend some time in here. I don't know what any of these things are, Clay. John-Henry collected them. Harry, he's in charge. He presides over the board of directors and he's interested in the specimens. He labeled the ones he could identify. Harry's an amateur environmentalist among other things. He told me after seeing this room, 'A conservancy should conserve something, John. Tell John-Henry to keep collecting these. I'll figure out what to do with them.'”

“Cool,” I said, having too little information to see a role for me.

“What I'm getting to, Harry has books. The sea life from hereabouts are in those books, Clay.”

“Why didn't you show me this stuff before, Pop? You know I'm interested in the stuff we catch in the nets on the boat. I spend about half my time on the gulf. I see things a lot more amazing than the local sea life. I can tell you what most of these are. I've seen these in biology class at school.”

“I know that, Clay. John-Henry was the first one interested in bringing the things he found on the beaches back here. He suggested jars and formaldehyde to preserve them. I think he got that from his biology classes. John-Henry was first fascinated by the remarkable colors when they washed up. You'll come upon them in your travels if you walk along the water.”

“The stuff I see on the decks of the Vilnius Two are way more colorful than these. These are fairly typical.”

“John-Henry got the idea to collect them and bring them here last summer. When Harry got wind of it, he took an interest. He bought books so he could identify what John-Henry found. Harry put the labels on the jars. After John-Henry was drafted, the idea of a biology lab was put on the shelf.”

“How many times have I been here? You could have opened the door, Pop.”

“I just did, Clay. Harry knows about you. We talked about involving you in the collecting and identification. Until the idea of hiring you to replace John-Henry, there was no plan. Harry will decide what he wants. There was no point telling you until he was here.”

“I didn't know John-Henry cared about the sea life,” I said. “We could have talked about that. He never mentioned it.”

“You have a job. You're maturing. This is a good place to work if you're interested in what's happening here. Harry can explain it better than I can. He wants to talk to you about it.”

I took jars off the shelves and examined them.

“I've seen most of these. I can identify some of them without a book. I'd like a look at the books you mentioned,” I said. “Most of these are common species in the gulf.”

“I brought Nick, Mr. Aleksa, back here last month. He comes by for coffee once in a while. The first thing he said when he saw the jars, 'You know, Clay can't get enough of stuff like this. He's mesmerized by anything new that comes out of our nets.' He'd told me about how marine life fascinated you before.”

“The fact I've never seen anything like them before has me wanting to know more about what they are, Pop. It's not like there were any large bodies of water in Tulsa.”

“After Nick's visit, I told Harry what he'd said. Harry was sad to see John-Henry go. Then he suggested I hire you to replace him.”

“To replace John-Henry or to collect more of these things?”

“It didn't take a genius to figure out where it was going. Later he called me to his office to talk about making what we have in here into a working biology laboratory. To preserve the island's habitat.”

“I've looked some of these up in the marine biology books at school, Pop. The things that come out of the nets in the gulf aren't in those books. I'd like a gander at a better set of books on marine life. When do I meet this guy?”

“Come with me. He's supposed to be in today. He likes to get here in time to go to lunch,” Pop said chuckling.

He lead me into the conservancy offices. We went down the hall on the opposite side of the building. Pop stopped to knock before opening the last doors.

“Hey, Harry. Keeping off that foot?” Pop asked.

“Yeah, damn gout is killing me, John. Who have we here? This is the last son, I presume? Not hard to see the resemblance.”

“This is my boy, Clay. He's helping us out a few days a week. I told you he fishes with Nick. I showed him the collection. Clay knows a lot about things that come out of the gulf, Harry.”

“Good! Good! I'm still trying to figure out a way to get that lab working for us, John. I'm not talking about a rinky dink place filled with jars and specimens. That will be where we start.”

“I told Clay about your books. He's anxious to take a look at them. I think he'd be willing to identify what's in those jars.”

“The biology class has books on marine life. I've read about the most common species. Your jars are mostly in that class,” I said.

I had Harry's attention.

“That it?” Harry asked, still watching me.

“The books at school are limited. With a good set of marine biology books, I can identify most things that come out of the gulf.”

Harry was either thinking about what I said, or he was thinking about what he'd say. He said nothing for a minute. I was done.

“That would be a big help to me, John. I don't have the time to give it the attention it needs. Why haven't I met Clay before?”

“He's been here. He works for Nick. He's on the gulf a lot, and he's a senior in high school, but you just haven't been here when he came by. You aren't here most of the time when I'm here, Harry.”

Harry laughed, pushing back from his desk. Wincing, he grabbed at his lower leg.

“This damn gout! Excuse my French, son. I don't do pain well.”

Harry looked me over as I stood next to Pop. For the first time I could see the dozen books behind his desk. My eyes widened as I thought of the things I'd seen on the Vilnius Two.

“Clay, would you be interested in helping us with our growing collection of sea life? I labeled what I could. You sound like this is right up your alley.”

“Sure,” I said, not wanting to sound too anxious. “I can identify what you have back there.”

“We'll find a way to make it worth your while if you're interested. John-Henry was quite helpful to me. We talked about where he found what is in those jars. I was quite disappointed when he left us.”

“I work on the gulf. I see the things that come out of it. I'm more than a little curious about the more mysterious creatures I see,” I said. “If I can use your books, I can find a few of those too.”

“Tell you what, John. The little biology department you built me, I'm seeing The Sanibel Island Conservancy Biological Laboratories? I don't see any pay yet, but plenty of appreciation from moi,” Harry said, leaning back as he kept an eye on me as he thought.

He wanted to see how I reacted.

I laughed. Ivan used the French word moi, meaning me. Harry realized I understood him. He smiled. He wanted to understand me.

“If young Olson here agrees to head the department, and he shows me something I can take to the board, we're in business. The board isn't big on things in jars. We'll need to bring them along with us slowly. Science isn't one of their strengths.”

“I've never headed anything. If you appreciate what I do, all the better,” I said, more excited by the set of books stretching out behind Harry's desk than some made-up title.

He saw where my eyes went as I read from the backs of the books. He was a curious fellow. He didn't miss much.

“Tell you what. I stay pretty busy what with reading Field & Stream and Hot Rod while I'm here. Can I trust you to keep the books in the laboratory and not spill formaldehyde on them? If we're going to build on that lab, having a first class set of marine biology books will be important.”

“You got it,” I said, wanting to get started.

“You identify and label the specimens in the lab, Clay, and I'll get money for equipment and for collecting specimens. I've talked about this for years. It could be an idea whose time has come if you're up to this.”

“If a specimen is in those books, I'll find it.”

“I like your spirit, son. I can tell this is the start of something good, John. I can't promise to pay Clay what he's worth to me, but I'll make his involvement worth his while. When we talked about establishing the laboratory, it included talk of a salary. I'll work those details into a discussion once I have some results to show off. Clay's age will be a factor. Results will overcome any resistance. I generally get my way is what I'm saying. I just needed the right motivation. I think with Clay's involvement, we can grow our laboratory into an important part of the conservancy.”

“I have the authorization for John-Henry's salary. I'll pay Clay out of that. The biology thing can be voluntary for the time being if that's OK,” Pop said. “We'll grow the lab the way you want it.”

“Sounds like a plan, John,” Harry said happily.

My mind was working overtime. I saw an opportunity to do something in an organized fashioned that I'd only been haphazardly before. Harry was excited by something that excited me. So far he had a kid fascinated by sea life. I decided to sweeten the deal.

“I see stuff on Mr. Aleksa's boat. Creatures come out of his nets. Things I saw once on his deck, I've never seen again. He allows me to get a good look at them. I remember what they look like. If I could bring those here, I could identify them. They come out of the gulf too. With your books, I can find the ones I remember and include them in any comprehensive record of what's in the Gulf of Mexico.”

“You'd do that for us? We're collecting the specimens that wash up on Sanibel's beaches. My eventual plan is to identify everything that's native to the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.”

“That's a job I want,” I said with as much self assurance as I could gather.

“As I see it, Clay, one day it'll be important to know all the species in these waters. I've got a board to convince how important this is. I tell them a conservancy should be involved in conserving. Before we can do that, we've got to know what's here.”

“It would be a logical place to start,” I agreed.

“Logic isn't their best thing either. Tell you what, I'd like to see anything you bring back from Nick's boat, Clay. See them before they go into preservative when possible. You'll have my numbers and I want to know when you make an unusual find.”

“I'll take some bottles with me. I'll keep the specimens I find in sea water. We have refrigeration and that will keep them fresh. We'll need a good refrigerator for the lab. Some specimens will barely fit in a gallon jar. We'll need some bigger jars. I'll work it out with Mr. Aleksa to keep them safe until we get back to the cove.”

“I'll get to work on that. This island is a natural laboratory. Having a man with your enthusiasm will be a big help to me.”

The man was talking my language. I think we understood each other.

“Thanks, Harry. I knew you'd get along with Clay. I didn't expect you to build the lab around him, but I can tell you Nick thinks he's the cat's meow. His old man thinks he's a good man too, if that means anything to you.”

Harry had gone a long way for a first meeting. He was a serious man. You can't fake his kind of sincerity. It was Harry's dream long before I showed up. I was anxious to see how far we might go.

“We don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves. There are hurdles to clear. I was a good hurdler in high school. I want the lab running by October,” He said, calculating the steps in front of him.

“It sounds exciting. I'll hang around to get your lab off the ground. It's where my interests are.”

“I want you to meet Bill Payne, Clay. He's an environmentalist at the university. He has many ideas about conservation on the island. He'll like having someone serious to discuss his ideas with.”

“Cool,” I said, thinking I sounded too casual.

I worried he'd see me as an immature kid. I worried I was an immature kid. The more I heard the more I wanted to be involved. I didn't know what else to say, so I shut up.

“A time will come when an increasing population will strain the resources of the island. They'll threaten our pristine environment and we need to protect what we have. You strike me as a serious young man who can add his insight to reaching the goal.”

“I love the gulf,” I said. “I never want to live anywhere else. If I can help keep it the way it is right now, I'll do whatever it takes.”

“Do what you can for your father. I'll get to work on creating a real laboratory before this damn gout kills me,” he said, leaning to rub a foot wrapped in cloth.

“You better catch up with your father. I need a stiff drink. I don't like being a bad influence on young people,” Harry said as he rubbed one ugly looking foot. “Too swollen to get into my shoe. Don't get old, son. That's my advice to you. It's not for sissies.”

*****

Pop was back in his shop loading supplies into the back of his truck for trash collection.

“I'll do that, Pop. I need lots of fresh air if I'm going to work here. That Harry is a character. I like him,” I said, not liking most adults. “I'll need the chart to find all the cans.”

“It's in the top drawer of my desk. Put it back when you come back. Just so you know, Harry is Judge Harry Nathan McCallister III. He's likely to be the next congressman from this district. His grandfather was Broadmore's attorney. He created the conservancy according to Mr. Broadmore's wishes, after his death.”

“Does Mama know where Broadmore died,” I asked.

I pictured the chandelier in the foyer at the conservancy house minus Mr. Broadmore.

“No, and I didn't know you knew. I have no plans to discuss it with your mother,” Pop said. “The grandfather headed the conservancy first. Harry Jr. headed it once senior passed, and Harry III took over in the 50s, after his father died. III's father was a judge too. Harry's a good man to have on your side, Clay. You impressed him. You have that ability with adults, son. You were too young to be around all this before now. A lot of wheeling and dealing is done here. Powerful people come here wanting Harry's blessing.”

“You know how I feel about politicians?” I said disapproving of the man's profession.

“You can't judge a book, or a judge, by his cover. A man like Harry will stop this war if given the chance. When the FBI came to put the word out that I was a subversive, Harry asked them to leave. He told them, 'You should hope to be the patriot this man is.'

“He did that?” I asked, quickly rethinking my blanket condemnation of all living politicians.

“He did and he knows about Teddy. Harry has five sons. Three are in college and two are in high school. He's sending them to college to keep them out of the war. Harry's a good man.”

“Ivan told me that's how it works,” I said. “The poor dumb kids go to war. The rich kids chase girls on campus. It's bogus, Pop!”

*****

I spent hours gazing into Harry's books. I promised myself I wasn't going to let my life be taken over by my desire to learn more about the gulf. It was a promise I couldn't keep.

Even while I had new specimens to label, I found myself going through the volumes searching for the one of a kind creatures I'd seen over the years. I could still picture them in my mind. I examined every picture for some sign of one of those.

Once I figured out how the books were arranged, labeling my newer finds from the beaches of Sanibel wasn't that hard. I walked the beaches each time I emptied the trash cans nearby.

I was a beach comber again. It was my specialty when I first arrived in Florida. I began finding beautiful shells I kept at the lab.

*****

It didn't take long for equipment to start arriving. Harry was doing what he said he'd do. I don't know why that surprised me, but it did. Words were cheap but he was a man of his. At first we didn't talk much. He knew what he wanted and he went about setting up the laboratory of his dreams and no one came to move me out of it.

Then Harry brought Bill Payne to explain the first microscope to me. A man of Mr. Payne's stature taking time to teach me how to use the instrument and take accurate notes on what I saw got my attention. It was a lesson I wanted to learn.

Mr. Payne was smart, dedicated, and he knew how to teach his subject. He spoke to me like I was learning something important. When we were all in the lab together, he spent more time with me than he did with Harry. He knew which one of us was going to be doing the work.

Harry was often sitting in the lab when I came back from collecting trash. He made a point of knowing my schedule. After I identified a dozen or so specimens, Harry came to read the names and the notes I'd taken.

“Show me where you found this one in the books,” Harry said, examining one of the new jars.

I'd grab the proper book and turn to the spot that usually included a picture. I'd made notes on what the book said about it and kept them in my files. I examined the specimen I had, and made notes peculiar to it.

He had me read the name on the jar. He'd correct me, making sure I could say the name properly. Once he was satisfied, we moved to the next specimen if there was another new one.

No one had to tell me, 'This is a test,' but there was more to it than that. Harry watched me like a hawk and he studied each picture like it was a Renoir or a Van Gogh.

If there was something unusual about a specimen, he'd read it to me from the book. Later he'd give me the name and ask me what was unusual about it. When I was less intimidated by Harry, I'd go to my files and read to him what was unusual about one of our specimen, after he read from the book.

Harry was never condescending. He didn't treat me like I was a kid or his employee. I was being educated by an educated man. He wanted me to know the business that had become my business before it became our business.

I liked the pace of learning. I liked the attention I was given.

Even in those first few months at the conservancy, being both laborer and scientist, I felt good when I was there. I loved what I was doing and what I was doing benefited the place I loved; the Gulf of Mexico and the things in it.

*****

It was best when Ivan was with me. We drove Teddy's car to school and to the conservancy Monday through Thursday afternoon. Some days Ivan went to the house to read, but two or three days a week he went with me. We didn't like being away from each other.

If I found a specimen on the beach, after we returned to the conservancy, I was in my lab searching for what it was, looking at it through the microscope, and taking notes.

Ivan drove home and Pop insisted I go home when he left, even if I hadn't finished what I was doing.

While Ivan approved of what I decided to do, it meant we were away from each other more than usual. On Friday we went out with Ivan's father. We weren't out of each other's sight until Sunday and we were together every night after dinner. When we were together, we couldn't keep our hands off each other.

Time was flying by. I couldn't find anything to complain or worry about. Ivan and I were about as good as we could be. I loved him and he loved me. Life may have been coming for us, but we were avoiding it. We'd need to acknowledge the world did exist soon.

In spite of all my new responsibilities, life was still simple then. What we liked most of all was being together in a place where we could get our hands on each other. I was expert at getting him alone in a private place. I looked for places that offered privacy.

Ivan once needed to get the ball rolling. He'd taught me well, and I was always on the lookout for an opportunity to jump his bones when we were together. In an effort to be as good as I could be, I needed practice. I wanted practice, and Ivan was more than happy to give it to me.

I knew every sand dune with enough uniola paniculata, Sea Oats, to hide two lovers in love, and I didn't hesitate to drag Ivan into the weeds when we had time. Sand could be distracting, but the way we did it, sand was a magic carpet to love.

I collected samples of all the grasses and plants on the island. The books in the biology laboratory had an excellent flora and fauna section. It was no trouble identifying the island life I found.

Ivan enjoyed reading and while I worked in the lab, he drove home to read Time, Newsweek, and the best newspaper available that day. It was usually the Miami Herald. When he found a Washington Post, because, 'That's where it was all happening,' he got that. When I got home, he'd read me the articles he'd marked.

There wasn't much extra time in those days. I'd have given up school to do more of the things I loved doing, but that wasn't bright as close as I was to graduation.

As fast as time was passing, I wouldn't remember much about my senior year. I could see where graduating could come in handy one day, but most of what I was doing didn't require me to show anyone a diploma.

Not having Mama disown me was a good reason to graduate too.

*****

One morning in early October, Pop came into my lab to get me to go to breakfast with him on a day I was out of school.

“Where we going?” I asked, putting a marker in the book that held the description of the latest specimen I'd found.

“It's a little place I found on the way to Fort Myers,” Pop said.

Work was work and we rarely had time to take lunch. Taking off to go to Fort Myers was a couple of hours if we ate.

What did I know? Pop was the boss and he wanted breakfast. I was always hungry.

We parked in front of a silver railway car. The sign said 'Diner.' It was about fifty feet off the highway.

I followed Pop inside. We went to the last booth near the kitchen.

There was suddenly a fellow in a coat and one of those 1940s detective hats Bogey wore in his Sam Spade movies. Bogey jumped up and embraced Pop before I got a look at him.

This was strange behavior, even if you were really hungry.

Looking past the hat, baggy clothes, and scruffy red beard, my brother Teddy was about to grab hold of me, pushing Pop to the side.

“Teddy! Teddy! Teddy,” was all I could say, as he hugged me.

He held onto me for several seconds before saying, “I love you too, Clay. I miss you.”

“Is this safe?” I asked, worried about him being overexposed.

Star was sitting in the booth in a hat and coat that was as baggy as Teddy's. She smiled, I nodded, Teddy introduced her to Pop. I could tell he immediately knew who she was.

Teddy had a girlfriend.

As Teddy sat down and pushed the hat back on his head, I found myself looking at someone who had aged. Maybe it was the beard or the months in the Glades. Teddy looked like a grown man now.

“Couldn't think of anything to write. Figured this would do. We're going to D. C. on the weekend of the 21st,” he said. “We march on Saturday.”

He sat across from Pop and me. Coffee was delivered without anyone asking for it. There was no mention of food.

Pop said nothing. He kept his big hands on top of Teddy's hands.

“We'll meet near here. Don't bring my car. There are rumors the FBI is all over the war-protesters,” Teddy said. “Thursday at three in the afternoon. We won't be waiting around, Clay. You need to pass here by three on Thursday. We'll see you.”

“Is it safe for you to go?” I asked, alarmed by the mention of the FBI.

“It's why I'm doing what I'm doing. I don't matter, Clay. I'm part of a movement to stop the war. The more of us there are the bigger impact we make. They'd give anything to take us down. People see the protest. They realize we don't all support what the leaders of this country are doing. Some will join us. The movement grows.”

“I want to go but I've got school,” I said.

“I'll take care of school,” Pop said without hesitation.

“Mama?” I asked, knowing where the trouble would be.

“Let me take care of your mother,” Pop said. “You'll be with Teddy. She'll like that.”

“We'll have five cars, twenty three people counting you and Ivan. Ivan is going?”

“Yeah, Ivan's more gung ho than me. John-Henry is over there Teddy,” I said, raising my only objection.

“John-Henry approves of the march,” Pop said. “He isn't against the war, Clay, but he thinks someone should be. I think more people need to be. Another of my sons isn't going. They'll need to put me in prison before they get another of my sons.”

“OK, Pop,” I said. “That's my only worry.”

“Do you oppose the war, Clay?” Teddy asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“We'll meet you on this highway Thursday at three. We'll take you back to the house. Not me but one of the cars will drop you and Ivan off. It's going to be a hard four days.”

“I'll bring them to meet you,” Pop said. “Are you going to be with them the entire time?” Pop asked.

“I'll be with them from the time you drop them off until we drop them off. I'm looking forward to being with Clay. My group will be sticking together,” Teddy said, finally smiling.

I was always glad to see Teddy. He'd changed, matured, and he'd gained a little weight. He was more sure of himself too.

There were tears when it was time to say goodbye.

After the hugs and wiping my own tears, Teddy said, “You've grown up, Clay. You're a man now. I wish I'd been around more.”

When I reached the door to leave, I turned back to get a last look at my brother. He was gone. Only four coffee cups remained as evidence of our meeting.

*****

I felt like I was in a movie. I knew the plot. I knew the hopelessness of what needed to be done, but we had to do it. The power of the forces aligned against my family were immense.

Except it wasn't the people's government any longer. It had been taken over by men who had their own ideas about how to use American power and the people's resources. Instead of a government of the people, it had become a government of the few, for the few.

I knew America did good in the world. We stood for freedom in the beginning. There were a lot of good people in the country who still believed in freedom.

Why were we involve with so much death?

If fewer people were armed, fewer people would die. While I wasn't that good at math, this seemed obvious to me.

If a kid in Florida figured it out, why couldn't my government?

Chapter 31

Tick in Time

The room in the corner of Pop's shop was my responsibility. What went on there would become an integral part of the conservancy. The biology lab was going to be an important source of information concerning life on and around Sanibel Island.

At first it was things in jars that I matched to pictures in books. How difficult was that? Harry was careful not to introduce me to too much too soon. Hiring a qualified scientist was out of the question. Developing one to be responsive to this specific environment wasn't.

Training someone to do the things he had in mind would take time. Convincing the board of directors to fund the project would take more time. Harry wanted the conservancy to eventually become a respected source of knowledge on life in the Gulf of Mexico.

Up until now the conservancy hadn't conserved anything. Harry was going to change that. He took the first steps once he concluded that I was capable of doing what he had in mind.

Until I met Harry, the word leadership meant the ability of self-important people to insert themselves in front of the progress people needed to make in order to have a decent life and slow it down.

Harry's leadership was unobtrusive, but he was doing what was necessary to make the conservancy live up to its name. The people closest to the operation didn't notice anything happening. I didn't notice, but I just got there.

I looked into the books Harry bought. I took notes on what I read and what I discovered as I compared the specimen in front of me with the pictures in the book, noting peculiarities I found.

In the early days of identifying the few dozen lab specimens, Harry came to the lab to talk over their names. For the most part names I couldn't pronounce but I carefully copied the name in the book onto the label I put on the jar.

Harry was a stickler for those names. We'd go over a dozen and we'd have a cup of coffee, chat, and then he'd ask me the names again, until I pronounced them to his liking.

What was Greek to me was Latin to Harry. He knew the fastest way to aggravate a real marine biologist, or any scientist for that matter, was to butcher names during a discussion.

1 Bill Payne came to supervise how information was collected and filed. If I was going to take notes, he thought it would be useful to be able to locate them. He helped me set up a filing system to keep track of the information on each of the lab's specimens.

In a few weeks I could say the names of the specimens and located the notes I'd copied from the book and the notes I'd taken on each. It didn't just simplify things, it saved me a lot of time.

These were educated men. I was a dumb kid. I might have been a man doing a man's job on the Vilnius Two, but at the conservancy I was just a kid. I felt like a kid. The men tutoring me didn't treated me like I was a kid.

I could see where finding notes on specimens long ago recorded was a good idea. What good were lost notes? They were keeping an eye on me as I felt my way along the mysterious biological trail.

Fishing with Mr. Aleksa gave me access to a wide ranging variety of specimens. They were coming from farther out in the gulf than most biologists were going back then. These were the specimens that created the most interest in our lab. One of the most asked questions when someone who knew the Gulf of Mexico dropped by the lab, “Where did you get this one and how did you identify it?”

I kept good notes on where each specimen was found. Mr. Aleksa taught me how to use the boat's navigational devices. I was able to map the location of each find. My maps were unique too.

At first Harry called what I was doing a conservancy project. As time went on, I became part of the biological division of the conservancy. Then we became the Sanibel Island Biological Laboratory. By that time the board had changed.

Harry was replacing the older board members who resisted change with younger and more progressive men. What was left of the older board began voting wholeheartedly with anything Harry wanted. No more changes were necessary.

Politics was the same at all levels. You voted to protect your job, not do what was right. Harry knew how the game was played. By the time Harry got the board he wanted, the new biology lab went from a modest sized building to one half the size of the original conservancy after Harry decided on a walk-in refrigerator for our specimens.

When I stood watching the construction, I saw many men in white lab coats roaming the building. I heard one of them ask, “Clayton, who?” I didn't mind. It was way bigger than I was.

There was no way to know I was looking at my life's work. I had no way of seeing into Harry's mind and he told me only what I needed to know then. He was growing the conservancy to meet the need. I was the man he'd picked to run his biology lab. He knew I'd do a good job, because he was training me.

When someone called me Clayton Olson, they weren't about to bawl me out. If an unusual sea creature washed up in the area, I became the man to call. I'd go to collect it and investigate.

The reaction was always the same when I showed up with my bottles to collect whatever it was.

“You're the Clayton Olson from the conservancy?” the smiling caller would ask.

“That's me. Your neighborhood disposal personage,” I joked.

“How old are you?” was always the second question.

At first I was kind of young.

People began bringing unusual finds from other areas, once our reputation began to grow. Harry spread the word as he campaigned for congress. This was the place where such finds could be identified and preserved.

Anyone could walk into my lab for a chat. Most asked about what was being done to preserve the Island and the Gulf of Mexico. I called them friends of the conservancy. Harry called them donors.

The most concerned citizens often had money and lived on Sanibel. Once I addressed their questions, I directed them to Harry. He was better at telling the story about the conservancy preserving the island environment. He knew how to get money out of people.

The lab's library grew substantially. If there was a new book on marine biology, Harry brought it to me for our library.

Nothing happened in a hurry. Preservation was a marathon, not a sprint. We gradually grew. It was nothing alarming or intimidating. Even the building going up next to Pop's shop meant little to me. I kept collecting and identifying new specimens. It's what I liked to do when I wasn't collecting the trash.

*****

This is what had been put into motion when we left to go to the march in Washington D.C. I didn't tell anyone where I was going, because I didn't want anyone to know. Pop knew and that covered my butt. I was going but I hadn't made up my mind how best to show my dislike for the people sponsoring the Vietnam war yet.

No one had to tell me I wouldn't enjoy the march. There were too many people, too much noise, and too little room, but it wasn't about me. This was about being somewhere I needed to be to make that statement I wanted to make.

I was standing up to be counted. I'd never stood up before.

Depending on who was doing the counting, we were somewhere between 50,000 and a 100,000. The march was angry. Mostly we were young men of a certain age. Too many men our age were coming home in boxes. We couldn't vote. We couldn't drink, but we could go to Vietnam to kill and be killed and we didn't like it.

I was with Teddy and Ivan, so the experience was fine. I knew why I was there. I knew what made me reluctant to come. I was completely against the war. I wasn't sure how marching and making a lot of noise would stop the masters of war.

The most vivid moment of the march was when we were chanting in front of the White House. I'd heard the chant before, but it meant more when we stood in front of the house of the man who was responsible for the war.

“Hey, hey, hey, L. B. J., how many kids did you kill today?”

We repeated it over and over again.

It was cruel. I wasn't cruel. It was loud and I chanted as loudly as anyone. I was as angry as anyone else. I left no doubt how I felt about his war.

I didn't feel very good about it. I didn't like how enthusiastically I became part of the crowd. I wondered when a march became a mob.

This was my first and last anti-war protest march. They wouldn't miss me. Each march grew larger as the number of boxes increased. A lot of sons and brothers weren't coming home.

The L. B. J. chant was soon replaced with, “Hell no, we won't go!”

Young men resented being told they had to die because some old goat said so. No matter how loud we screamed, the masters of war would keep sending teenage boys to die. We were the boys who weren't going and the ones who had been and were still pissed off.

There were speeches at the Lincoln Memorial. I was mesmerized by the Washington Mall. I'd never seen anything like it. Washington D. C. had to be one of the most majestic cities in the world. Between the Washington Monument and the Capitol were the museums. As impressive as that was. The view from the Monument back toward the Lincoln Memorial was inspiring.

It was a great city befitting the architects of a great nation. I doubt those men would approved of the masters of war. George Washington warned against foreign entanglements in his farewell address. Eisenhower warned of the military industrial complex in his. Were these leaders somehow smarter than today's leaders?

I'd done what I came to do. I'd seen what I came to see. I was ready to go home. By the middle of the speeches I was yawning.

I knew nothing about war protesting or war. I didn't seen the end to a means. It took six months for L. B. J. to announce he wouldn't be running for reelection. His presidency was over. It had been ruined by his war. No matter how much good Johnson did, he was known for the war that would kill in excess of thirty-six thousand eighteen year old boys. While no man who goes to war is a boy, that's what they were before the old goats sent them to the jungles of Vietnam.

At least Johnson had a conscience. He head the voice of the people and he responded. The next president had no conscience whatsoever. His way of achieving peace was to bomb the Vietnamese into submission. When we marched in 1967, there were twenty thousand dead Americans. By the time Nixon was done, over fifty-eight thousand had died. Nixon called this, “Peace with Honor.”

There was something terribly wrong with our leaders.

*****

I was exhausted by the time we got back to the car. I'd never been so happy to be on my way home.

We didn't talk about the march. I sat between Teddy and Ivan on the way back. There was plenty of time for me to be with Teddy. We'd never spent that much time that close in our entire lives.

“I'm glad you came, Clay. Being with you means a great deal to me now. I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you when I could have.”

“Thanks for taking us. I'm glad we stand together on something,” I said.

I was happy to be with Teddy too. We shared a bond we hadn't shared before, or we didn't realized that we shared.

I didn't realize it would be close to ten years before I'd see Teddy again. I'm sure he knew he'd be in the wind soon. He didn't tell me.

As we left D. C. he wanted to see the peace symbol I'd given Ivan. He turned it over and read the inscription.

“Ivan loves Clay. Clay loves Ivan,” he read with his eyes growing moist. “You two promise me you'll take care of each other. You know I won't be around to help.”

I wasn't surprised much by Teddy's reaction. We assured him we planned to take care of each other for a long long time. I don't think Teddy saw enough of Ivan and me to realize we were lovers, but to me that necklace left no doubt how I felt about Ivan.

The next time I saw Teddy, I wouldn't know him. I'd gone to my father's hospital room after Pop's first heart attack. The man holding Pop's hand was a stranger to me. Not only had it been nearly ten years, this guy had gone out of his way not to look like Teddy.

His elegantly styled wavy blond hair, a color Teddy's had never been, put me off him. The suit cost more than my entire wardrobe. It was tailored for a snug fit. The Italian leather loafers were polished to a high gloss. I'd never seen silk socks before. His were black. I had a pair of loafers, American made, that had never seen polished.

The hand holding my father's was manicured with polished nails.

This was a successful man, probably European; French or Italian.

The baffling part was, why was he holding Pop's hand? I knew everyone in Pop's life. I'd never seen this fellow. I didn't like him.

There was something about the middle-aged man's face that got my attention. Then it made sense. I realized who the stranger was.

“Teddy?” I asked in a less than convincing voice.

“No. I'm Bill Carson,” the thirty year old man said, with the look on his face leaving no doubt he knew me.

“Bill Carson,” I said, as he stood to face me.

After ten years I knew the game. He was a wanted man.

Taking a wallet out of his inside pocket, he opened it to show me a picture I. D. It said he was Bill Carson.

The picture looked more like Teddy than the man did. He'd done such a good job of changing his appearance, his own brother didn't know him, not right away.

It was difficult to find Teddy Olson in Bill Carson. His eyes showed none of Teddy's warmth. Being on the run for so long had taken its toll. His posture, even his voice was different. You had to work to make yourself into a different person. It was more than the hair and the clothes.

The handshake was firm. Our eyes met for an instant.

While he stood his ground, I was having none of it. Before he knew it I had my arms around him and I put my cheek against his.

I whispered, “Teddy, what have you done to yourself?”

He gave in to the hug for a second. It took another second for him to back away. He looked at his loafers when he did.

He smelled sweet. I'd never smelled a cologne as powerful as his, but my cologne was salt water and sea air. I wanted to hold my brother, but I didn't. There was a reason for what he was doing.

Otherwise I went along with the charade. I didn't know where he'd come from or how he knew Pop was ill, but here he was. He'd gone far away from us. He'd obviously been successful.

Teddy Olson was a fugitive. Bill Carson no doubt was an upstanding citizen somewhere. Teddy was the most industrious Olson boy. He was on the run and still found a way to thrive.

When Pop opened his eyes, he knew his son when he saw him. I hadn't seen Pop smile like that in years. No disguise could fool Pop. As sick as he was, his smite told the tale.

Teddy patted my father's hand and said, “I love you, Pop.”

For a minute the youthful light returned to Teddy's eyes. Neither of them spoke after that. Teddy was there and nothing else mattered. It was the best medicine for Pop. He was sitting up by the next day.

Teddy disappeared back to his new life once Pop was out of the woods. I think he did more to accomplish that than the doctors did.

I didn't expect to see Teddy again. He had a life somewhere else. I'd heard the amnesty mentioned but with the anger in the country over losing our first war, I didn't expect amnesty to be possible.

Right after Pop came back to work from his heart attack, President Carter signed the amnesty.

“All is forgiven. Come home,” was the message he sent.

To heal the nation after the war required forgiveness. It brought home long ago exiled sons who refused to go to the old goat's war.

Families of the nearly fifty-nine thousand dead weren't thrilled with Carter. The masters of war, who could have helped heal the nation, opposed amnesty. There was no forgiveness for those who refused an invitation to the war.

The split created by a senseless war is made permanent by the masters of war. War was their business and business had been good.

Teddy Olson was no longer a fugitive. He could return to the conservancy house to visit Mama and his very grown up little sister. He endured nearly ten years of being wanted. He was a man of peace.

The Vietnam war was finally over for the Olson clan.

*****

Once we got back and sat on Ivan's deck, after we got out of bed Monday afternoon, there was no talk of war.

Ivan began to changed after Boris enlisted in the army. I was the worrywart and didn't mind saying so. Ivan kept his feelings to himself. I didn't ask. I knew how I felt about my brother being over there. It was obvious to me that Ivan liked it even less than I did, but Boris was his only brother. Next to me, Boris was closest to Ivan.

First it was Time and Newsweek left unread, once news of the war went bad. Ivan no longer stopped for the Miami Herald. Instead he went with me to the conservancy and read biology books.

It didn't change anything. We had more time to make love but we talked less. I spent more time at work, but the war was never far away no matter where I was.

The pile of letters on the bedside table from Boris grew, which surprised me. There were fifteen when I last counted. Ivan began to check to see if there was a letter from John-Henry before he sat down. If there was one, Ivan excused himself and went home.

There was no doubt why he didn't want to hear about Vietnam.

At seventeen, fast approaching eighteenth, we too were entering the danger zone. My beach was my sanctuary. My work at the conservancy kept my mind off the things I worried about.

I got lost in my work in the growing biology laboratory. When Ivan didn't come to the lab with me after school, and there was nothing to do, I read and reread the labels on the jars.

I preferred to chase Ivan across the Sanibel Island dunes.

They could come and get me once I was eighteen. I wouldn't go willingly. I wouldn't go to war. I wasn't going to commit violence against anyone anywhere at any time. I wouldn't run when they came for me. I'd face whatever my government had in store for me.

What was the punishment if you refused to be a killer? Once you were one, where did you go to find work after the war was over?

I could always say I was a homosexual. It automatically disqualified you from the culture of death. Homosexuals weren't fit to kill anyone, but I wasn't going to do that. Who I loved had nothing to do with their insanity. I was against violence. That's why I wasn't going to war. That was the statement I was making.

I worried that Ivan would be drafted. I worried he might go. I worried he wouldn't come home. I worried we'd both end up in jail for refusing to follow the masters of war. Ivan wasn't talking.

I'd been given a future by a judge who was going to be a congressmen. He'd win because Harry was a winner. He was committed to making the world a better place, beginning with the Island where he lived.

Harry was committed to me, even if I didn't see it then.

Ivan was on his own long before I came to the beach. He spent years getting me to think for myself, to read, and to pay attention to detail. Ivan created a spot where I fit into his life. He'd yet to discover where he fit into his own life. Since I got to Florida, I saw my future as being on the gulf. Ivan's never was. I just assumed it was.

Learning to think for myself didn't mean I could think for Ivan. Without him I was nothing. Being there for him was where I wanted to be. I'd wait for him to find himself. Even when he looked far away from our beach, I'd wait, and Ivan would always come home.

Love isn't simply holding tightly to each other. Love is sometimes letting go. If you hold a living thing too tightly, it can't breathe. We all need to breathe. Ivan needed to breathe. I gave him as much room as he needed. I would not become impatient.

My job became my life's work, or my passion became my job. I never really done a days work in my life. Even picking up trash was an adventure, especially on the days Ivan went with me.

Ivan was alone more often because I had so much to do. He was smarter and more aware than me. He instinctively understood complicated issues that flummoxed me, but there was surprisingly little opportunity for someone as bright as Ivan. His future wasn't in an office. His career wasn't fishing with his father.

My world was small. My life was simple. I liked it like that. I didn't like being away and getting back home was a relief. It's where I wanted to be with Ivan. It's where I wanted to stay with Ivan.

*****

When I came in from collecting the trash some days, Harry would be sitting in my lab. Our handshake had become a hug. There was small talk for a minute and then he'd get down to business.

“I want to see the new specimens. Do you know which ones I haven't seen?”

“Sure,” I said, going to the file cabinet to get Harry's List, where I marked down the names of the specimens Harry hadn't seen.

He made sure I could pronounce all the names and he read my notes to check on the unusual finds. When Harry came to my lab, he didn't leave until I could properly pronounce the new names and after he read every note I'd taken on them. I was sure Hot Rod was more fun.

*****

The letters kept coming from Boris. Before Christmas of 1967 they were coming from Vietnam. I had hoping he'd visit once more. When he was in Tampa, Ivan went to see him for two days.

I let him use Teddy's car so he had a way to get home.

Ivan said Boris was more of a stud than ever and he'd brought two army friends home with him. Ivan told me that one of them was in love with Boris. He wasn't sure about the other one.

Being jealous of my lover's brother wasn't new. I could have gone to Tampa too, but I knew better. Boris visiting the house next to the river, meant I could walk home if he got frisky. Walking home from Tampa wasn't quite as easy.

John-Henry said he was fine. We sent him two big packages with all his favorite stuff for Christmas. Mama cooked all the cakes, cookies, and sweets she could fit into one box. The other box was socks, underwear, books, pencils and pads.

The boxes didn't get to him until January, but how Christmasy could Vietnam be? We sent things he'd like and that would help him remember there was a home and people who cared about him.

Ivan stayed with me at the conservancy house on Christmas Eve. We didn't do much sleeping before going down to open presents and to have coffee, cakes, bacon, sausage, and muffins, which held us over until breakfast.

Mama wanted to keep busy so the missing half of her children didn't make her sad. Along with John-Henry, and Teddy, Coleen missed her first Christmas. Word was she was in the Bahamas or Bermuda with her girlfriends.

It left more food for us. Brian had returned from his latest trip to Texas. He was home two or three days a month now. He liked talking about driving a truck. He claimed there was a lot to see out in the country. Brian had never had much to say about anything before.

It was mild weather and while we spent a lot of time at the conservancy house, we were mostly at Ivan's. There was absolutely nothing on our schedule but each other. I was sure Ivan had decided to find out if there was such a thing as too much sex.

We hadn't been able to leave each other alone since returning from D. C. There we were limited to holding hands for four days. I don't think you can make up for lost time, but Ivan wanted to try. We never found out how much sex was too much, but we knew four days without sex was too much.

We hadn't cleared Mama's kitchen before Ivan had a lip lock on me Christmas night. He was taking advantage of me. I had my arms full with bags of food. Twice the week of Christmas, we didn't make it back to his house before desire overtook us. It was what drove us the week between Christmas and New Years. It was a nice drive.

By then we knew we weren't going to make up for lost time, so we decided to work on getting ahead on love making. With that in mind we couldn't keep our hands off each other, but we'd had that problem for a while now.

Merry Christmas!

We swam together each morning right after sunrise. The water hadn't taken on the winter chill yet and therefore I didn't mind. Ivan was pretty devoted to his morning swims.

When I swam with him, knowing I couldn't match his pace, he cut back so we swam together. He swam next to me and some days we even swam to my house and back without stopping to... wrestle or anything.

I'd never been as happy as I was the Christmas of 1967. I had everything I could want. The worries about my future were over. It was when I began to feel like John-Henry was coming home safe, and he did late the following summer, walking up the beach one afternoon to let me know he was home.

I could forget the letter I kept behind a picture frame in my room. It told me what to do if he hadn't made it back alive. I didn't know Teddy had left Florida yet, but I was sure he'd stay a step ahead of the FBI. Teddy was resourceful. Pop wouldn't mention his departure until I asked him.

Even though our Christmas tree wasn't as tall as last years, I still imagined old man Broadmore's feet becoming tangled in the tree's boughs. It was a recurring vision I had, Mr. Broadmore swinging from our chandelier.

These were happy days, even with our missing family members. They could be called the best of times, although my life was mostly good. Getting beyond childhood was an escape I wanted to make. My life was legally my own once I turned eighteen in spite of the hazards that came with it.

I'm sure I gained five pounds over Christmas that year. When we weren't eating at my house, we were eating at Ivan's. Mama cooked enough food for an army and we did our best to eliminate any waste.

The nights were pleasant enough to keep the doors open to let in the fresh gulf air. We even managed a couple of hours of sleep most nights.

I must admit our nights were too good to miss by going to sleep. When you have a lover like Ivan, you need to pay attention, and I did.

I'd accumulated nothing since arriving in Florida. Even my cutoffs were threadbare most of the time. The clothes for school weren't any good on my beach. I had a car, but it wasn't mine. My life was about what I did and who I was with.

For the right person I'd give up those cutoffs.

I'd been perpetually worried about what I would do with the rest of my life. Ivan told me that I had to wait for my life to develop. Ivan taught me tricks about thinking. I had to be there to have thoughts that meant anything. Everything else was noise.

As my life at the conservancy began to unfold, being there made all the difference in where I was going when I wasn't going anywhere. I was staying right where I was.

I didn't have to look for the rest of my life. I was living it and I hadn't made it to eighteen yet, but it was coming fast.

Still being young, insanely in love with Ivan, and at the beginning of the rest of my life, wasn't so bad. I didn't know what I was doing at the conservancy I'd still be doing in twenty years. I kept waiting for Harry to bring in a professional to take over the Sanibel Island Biological Laboratories. He never did. I was his man.

From the day I met Harry, I told myself that this was temporary. I wasn't going to get my hopes up about being important to what Harry had in mind for the conservancy. At each step he didn't simply include me, he asked me what I thought. He asked me what I wanted. He asked me what would make my work easier.

After I turned eighteen, Harry came to the lab to seal the deal.

“Young Olson, you've grown up. Time to get you enrolled in a marine biology curriculum. If you're going to become a respect source for information on the gulf, you'll need letters behind your name.”

“I will?” I said, uncertain about this news.

“Yes, you will, but not to worry. I happen to know a respected environmentalist who is offering a limited class on marine biology this year. You may have heard of him, Bill Payne.”

“Limited meaning?”

“He can handle five students. He'll dive in the waters around the island. Your in class time will be limited to two days a week. There are courses you need to pass to get your degree, but ninety percent of it will be with Bill in the local waters and in our wetlands.”

“Do I get time to think about it?”

“Actually you don't. I talked to your father and he's all for it. If you're working here, Clay, I've got to protect you from the draft. While your education is well underway already, it doesn't keep you out of the draft. Enrolling you in Bill Payne's program does. It's a done deal.”

“That does make a difference. How much is it going to cost me?”

“You're working for the conservancy. You'll go to school on the conservancy dime. I told you I'd make working here worth your while. You may never make a bundle of bucks, but we'll take care of you.”

By the time the new building was completed, the older board members were gone and the field had been cleared for Harry to keep the conservancy viable.

The conservancy eventually became the Sanibel Laboratories. As time passed and conserving the island and gulf became a major undertakings, the laboratory was the answer. With donations and our knowledge about the island and its waters, we could do the job.

Harry ran the conservancy. I ran the laboratory.

*****

As Ivan and I kept each other awake at night, little did we know what was in store for us. 1968 was a year we wouldn't soon forget.

It set into motion events in our lives that we couldn't control.

While my life seemed very good, the world around me was about to go very mad.

We were on the verge of turning eighteen and our lives would be our own. In 1968 it was hard to know what kind of lives we'd have by the time that year ended.

Happy New Year!

Chapter 32

1968

If you were alive in 1968 you remember it.

Ivan and I turned eighteen in 1968. We graduated from high school in 1968. We'd been taught to look forward to those achievements, but they weren't achieved without apprehension. Every eighteen year old boy was apprehensive in 1968.

Registering for college in Bill Payne's program was the plan. Pop said it was a generous offer. He told me how he worried about John-Henry and Teddy. Having me close to home would be a relief.

I wasn't sure how Ivan would take the news. I didn't tell him right away about college. Mama wanted to know what a marine biologist did. Lucy wanted to meet Harry and Bill Payne. She wanted to be a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon, but she thought she might like being a marine biologist in her spare time.

Lucy was already a pistol.

I was safe, but I didn't know what Ivan intended to do. I didn't know if he knew what he was going to do. It worried me.

“You remember Bill Payne?” I asked one day after returning from dinner.

“I met him at the conservancy. He's the environmentalist guy with the white hair and great tan.”

“Yeah, that's him. He is a college professor. He teaches a marine biology course.”

“He does?” Ivan asked. “That's right up your alley, Clay.”

“Harry wants me to attend his program.”

“Go to college. That's great,” Ivan said, getting up to hug me.

He didn't mention the education deferment.

“What are you going to do, Ivan? We graduate in a few months.”

“I don't know what I want to do. I thought I'd know by now. I'm not as sure of myself as I once was.”

“I've thought about it. If you want to go to college, I've got all that money on top of my fridge. The conservancy is going to pay my way if I promise to stick with the biology lab.”

“I don't want your money, Clay,” Ivan said. “I appreciate the offer but I'm really restless now. I can hardly sit still in high school.”

“Boris?” I asked.

He turned his head to give me one of his studying stares. He didn't say anything and I didn't say anything else.

I had money. I wasn't beyond buying Ivan a deferment but I couldn't put it to him in those terms.

I'd sensed a change in Ivan after his last visit with Boris. It wasn't long before Boris was on his way to Vietnam and Ivan seemed more unsettled. Any serious talk about the Vietnam War ended.

I signed the card we sent Boris for his twentieth birthday. Ivan mailed it before Christmas. When I wrote my name, I wondered, 'Will he see twenty-one?'

I didn't share the thought.

First Boris left Ivan to go to Tampa. Now he'd gone to war. For the first time Ivan couldn't get to Boris if he wanted to.

*****

My family continued to be a source of comfort for me in 1968. I looked forward to going home with Pop for dinner.

Ivan knew which day John-Henry's letter came each week. He didn't eat with us if there was a letter to be read. He went home to watch the small black and white television he'd taken down from the top of the radio closet.

We both made sure we were in front of the TV for Laugh-In and the Smoothers Brothers. I'd watched TV in Tulsa. Since coming to Florida, I couldn't sit still long enough to watch the tube. Sitting on Ivan's deck, watching the gulf was more relaxing. Being next to Ivan was relaxing. Watching TV made my brain go numb.

I did like Andy Griffith and Gomer Pyle. Barney and Gomer were funny. The Monkees were simply zany. There was no plot, and the story made no sense, but we laughed the entire time.

Watching TV replaced reading. Watching replaced the articles Ivan read to me. Our window on the world had closed. Nothing newsworthy stayed on the screen for long. The deck became a no news zone.

*****

The war in Vietnam started off bad in 1968. It went downhill from there.

We saw Walter Cronkite, “The most trusted man in news,” at a time when news was more than opinion, give his opinion on the Vietnam war after a 1968 trip to Vietnam.

Walter Cronkite stood in front of the camera in a flack jacket and helmet. He'd finished his evening news report.

As quick as I spotted Walter, I jumped to change the channel.

“No, let's hear what Uncle Walter has to say,” Ivan said.

Before leaving the war zone Cronkite had an opinion he felt obligated to share with the American people. Since crying when he reported the death of John F. Kennedy, Walter was beloved for sharing his grief with us.

For the second time he broke his implacable newsman persona, when he said, 'At best, in this reporter's opinion, the war will end in a stalemate.'

L. B. J. got out of the 1968 presidential race shortly after Cronkite's dictum, saying, “If I've lost Cronkite, I've lost the country.”

I knew what was going on in Vietnam. Anyone at the conservancy with a kid in Vietnam came to Pop's shop to talk to him. Pop didn't like it, but he was a polite man who listened to mothers and fathers questioning their countries wisdom. They'd never express doubt in public, but they knew Pop had a son at war and one in the bush.

For the most part these were intensely patriotic people who were searching for a reason for us to be over there. We all knew our government knew things we'd never know, but the killing seemed to be out of control and the boxes kept coming home.

*****

Tet alarmed everyone that knew anything about Vietnam. This was way beyond anything anyone said was possible. The North Vietnamese offensive went on and on.

The Tet Offensive brought attacks on every city in the South. We'd been at war for three years and these cities were peaceful before. Suddenly the entire country was on fire and North Vietnamese troops were everywhere.

With a half million American troops in the South, how does the North wage all out war in territory we control? The CIA, who knew everything, didn't warn anyone the attack was coming.

Thousands of North Vietnamese troops positioned themselves around major city in the South and no one knew they were there?

In America we watch American troops going house to house trying to dislodge the enemy.

Previously safe cities are occupied by North Vietnamese.

The most vivid pictures came from the American Embassy in Saigon. Marines are filmed fighting back the North Vietnamese soldiers on the embassy grounds.

Gen. Westmoreland says, 'We've won a great victory.'

What else are the masters of war lying about?

Technically the Americans won the Tet Offensive. Thousands of the enemy died. Watching from America, it looked like something other than a great victory. The North Vietnamese soldiers fought to the death and lost the Tet Offensive.

It looked bad on television.

Khe Sahn, a forward marine base in Quang Tri Province, near Laos and the DMZ, is under siege before Tet begins. The base can only be resupplied by air, until that becomes too dangerous.

Two North Vietnamese divisions surround the base along with artillery and armored units. The base is under a constant assault.

The enemy keeps up artillery and mortar fire, charging the perimeter wire in what becomes hand to hand combat.

Resupply is attempted by heroic pilots. The many downed aircraft are testimony to the danger. Even under heavy helicopter attack, the North Vietnamese maintain the siege at a huge cost.

The battle for Khe Sahn goes on from January into July.

Gen. Westmoreland calls this the battle he's been waiting for. His troops going head to head again North Vietnamese troops.

After the bloody battle for Khe Sahn ends, with the marines coming out on top in spite of the cost in casualties, they withdraw. By the middle of July 1968 the North Vietnamese occupy the base.

It looks bad on TV, even when victory is declared.

Gen. Westmoreland is relieved as the commander of American forces in Vietnam, after he requests an additional two hundred thousand more troops.

The question remained, what are we doing in Vietnam?

The North Vietnamese have one way to measure victory. 'If we are still here once you've gone home, we win.'

We did finally come home five years later. The Vietnamese are still there.

*****

Our b+

each was peaceful. Time was moving right along. With Boris and John-Henry over there, the war didn't come up much. We didn't read the articles or follow the news. It was easier that way.

Ivan and I went dumb in 1968, but it was a year we couldn't ignore. If the war in Vietnam was disturbing, the war on the streets of the U. S. tore the country apart.

A few seconds of madness forever altered our future in 1968.

Those seconds robbed the country of young progressive leaders who didn't believe in the masters of war.

With them dead the masters of war were in the catbird seat.

*****

“How does your family stay so cheerful?” Ivan asked, after we returned from dinner one night.

This required some thought.

“We like being together. I guess we feel lucky to be together, Ivan. I feel safe there. I have a nice family.”

“Yes, you do. They're always happy. My family wasn't around much,” Ivan said.

“Food is a way of bringing people together,” Ivan said. “I didn't get that until I met you. I ate but it wasn't a family affair.”

“Food is a spiritual. There's so much love in Mama's meals, you can't help but feel it. I wouldn't call it a religious experience. Mind control isn't my thing. It may be religious for Mama, feeding her family. I didn't feel it until we moved here,” I said. “After John-Henry and Teddy were gone, it was dinner that brought our family together.”

“You believe in spirits but not Gods?” Ivan asked.

“Mama believes in God. I believe in Mama. I believe in the force that units everything, me, you, the Gulf of Mexico, my family, your family, whatever. Since God doesn't believe in me, I find it difficult to believe in him.”

“I see,” he said. “Force?”

“Call it energy, karma, or Bugs Bunny. There is a force that runs through all of us.”

“Bugs Bunny? I thought you were onto something and then you give me Bugs Bunny.”

“I didn't care about anything before I came here. I respect my family. I love and respect you. In the spirit of my life, I want to preserve things. I'm lucky I have so much and to be happy.”

“You're beginning to figure it all out?” Ivan asked.

“The world is a mess because there are people who make it that way. They want us to be afraid of how bad it might get if we don't put them in charge. Scare the people and take control.”

“My God, along with everything else you do, you're a philosopher too,” he said. “The masters of war want us afraid of the bogeyman?”

“Probably. They create the mess and then offer to fix it. If there's a way for me to keep the gulf from becoming a mess, I'll do it. I won't do it because I'll get something out of it. I'll do it to keep one of the most beautiful place on earth beautiful. It deserves to be preserved.”

“That's why I love you,” Ivan said. “You are a man of conviction, even if you do believe in Bugs Bunny.”

“He's as real to me as the masters of war are,” I said. “Bugs is way less dangerous.”

“I remember the kid I rescued from Purdy at the rope swing. You were wide eyed and closed minded, and a bit on the porky side. Even then I saw the tall smart kid inside the chubby one.”

“Do tell,” I said. “I wasn’t chubby. I still had my baby fat.”

“You certainly did. I've never met anyone smarter; maybe me. You listened to everything I said, when I told you what I was taught.”

“I listened to you because I was in love with your ass. I wanted to be with you and so I listened.”

“You listened and learned. We think differently, Clay. Before, whatever I said was fine. You followed me no matter where I went. Now you lead the way. You have so much going for you. All I've got going for me is you,” he said, holding my hand.

“And you'll always have me,” I said. “I'm nothing without you, Ivan. Everything I am came from you. I won't forget that. As uncertain as times are, I owe everything I am to you.”

“Always? You could find someone. I worry I won't be able to keep up with you. You're moving so fast. I'm sitting still.”

“You need to keep up with you, Ivan. I'd never find anyone like you. I have no interest in looking,” I said. “We may not be joined at the hip but our lives are. I couldn't function without you.”

“I know,” he said unconvinced.

“You're going to fish with your father. You'll captain the Vilnius Two in a few years.”

“I don't know. Fishing for the rest of my life? I don't know. I feel like I need to be doing something. I don't know what.”

“You'll fish with your father and I'll go with you often enough so we don't forget how to do it. The rest will take care of itself.”

“I do love you, Clay. What you said about your life, what you do, how you feel about what we have, was smart. The conservancy doesn't have any idea what a find they've made in you.”

“They don't??” I said surprised. “That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Ivan.”

“I thought 'I love you' was pretty nice,” he said, and our lips met as we hugged.

I loved him so much.

“You'll be fine. We'll be fine. You'll find what you're looking for.”

Our talk had helped, but like most of our talks, we ended up in bed. It was hard to talk with our lips together.

We did our best.

*****

Ivan's birthday came first in 1968. We'd party at my house, go to his house for the night, sleep all day, and be ready to go fishing Friday.

On his birthday I took him to Fort Myers to have our portrait taken. I bought a frame that would look good on his bed stand. We went to the jeweler I'd met through Bill Payne.

I ordered matching friendship rings. The jeweler needed Ivan's finger.

Ivan was speechless and the jeweler was cool about it.

After wiping the tears from his eyes, he gave me one wild and crazy kiss. I should have thought of the rings before.

“Will you marry me, Ivan?” I asked, not knowing why.

“I would if I could, Clay. My love for you overwhelms me sometimes. Like today when I realize how lucky I am to have you.”

“Me too,” I said. “Maybe one day we will get married.”

“Maybe one day, Clay,” he said without believing it.

Mama smiled when she saw the only piece of jewelry I'd ever owned. When she saw the identical ring on Ivan's finger, her pleasure began to wane, but Lucy immediately went to work.

“Oh, Clay, it's beautiful. I want one just like it.”

She'd get one on her birthday.

“That's what I said,” Ivan said, relieving Mama of her fear that matching rings on boys might mean the worst sin of all to her God.

Later, when Mama came to understand that Ivan and I were in love, she was our biggest supporter. No matter how long we spent separated, we were back together as soon as we saw each other.

Love is forever and Ivan and I were definitely forever. We couldn't remain mad at each other or stay apart for long. When we were apart, our lives were incomplete.

The evening of his birthday, we had dinner at my house. Mama made his favorite cake and his father brought his favorite fresh churned ice cream. Mr. Aleksa stayed for cake and ice cream.

“There's one thing I wanted for my birthday. I invited Kenny to come over. He wanted to stay on the boat,” Ivan said.

“There's plenty of food. I have a container that'll keep ice cream frozen for an hour or more. I'll fix containers and you can take it to the marina,” Mama said.

“Swell!” Ivan said. “Mrs. O., you're a peach.”

Mama blushed.

Ivan and I took Kenny dinner. He was surprised to see us.

“I didn't get you anything. I didn't think I'd see you until Friday.”

“Cut it out, Kenny. We've never exchanged gifts. We wanted you to have a nice dinner.”

“Smells good,” he said, peeking into the bag. “Thanks.”

Kenny did everything but say, 'All shucks.' He was cute.

Then Arturo came strolling into the galley from the crew quarters. The look on his face said he wasn't expecting company.

“Well, we've got to go,” Ivan said. “You boys... have fun.”

Arturo was my age and very easy on the eyes. I watched his entire body blushing when he realized Kenny and him weren't alone.

“Kenny is looking good,” I said as we walked up the dock.

“Yeah, Arturo ain't looking half bad either. Do you think he gets faint when he Kenny gets him excited?” Ivan asked.

We laughed hysterically.

“Which boat is Arturo on?” I asked.

“Tito's. He's from Argentina. I hope he's legal.”

“He went with your father while we were in D. C.”

“Yes, he did. Kenny suggested him. I'm seeing a pattern.”

“Is Kenny gay, Ivan?” I asked, remembering Kenny with Boris.

“Beats me. I'd ask Arturo if I really wanted to know. He looked hot to trot. I think Kenny would like someone to want him,” Ivan said.

“I hope they decide to stick together,” I said. “I'd like Kenny to be happy.”

“But you are turned on by guys?” Ivan said. “You see Kenny and Arturo as a couple.”

“Yes, I do. Mostly I'm turned on by fishermen. Boris, Kenny, Arturo, you. I've had sexual feelings about all of them. I'm happy with you, so I have no interest in seeing what they're like. I dare say I could hold my own with any one of them. I couldn't with a girl.”

“You're the only boy I'm attracted to. We're disregarding a brother's love and what that means. I'm not attracted to random boys, not that I'm attracted to random girls. Except for Boris, you're the only guy I find attractive.”

“After Boris, who would make the cut?” I asked.

“You,” he said, looking at me with no hesitation. “Boris and I were about the curiosity factor. He matured. I was curious. He was horny and I was happy to exploit the possibilities. He didn't pressure me. He didn't need to. He didn't put up much resistance either.”

“I bet,” I said.

“There was a certain thrilling aspect for me. It was sexual for him. I liked to get him going.”

“It makes the scene from Boris' first visit easier to understand,” I said, looking over at him while I drove.

“I can't explain that. There were a lot of feelings and they all exploded at the same time. I think it had to do with him being gone for so long and when he comes home, the first thing he does is feels up my lover. Actually we hadn't made love then, but we loved each other. I didn't like what Boris was doing and I went off. I'm not excusing my behavior and I can't explain it. That's not a cop out.”

“I'd never had that kind of physical contact with anyone before,” I said. “Not in the light of day. I didn't like Boris touching me and at the same time I loved it. If you hadn't thrown me out, I'd have had to leave or get myself in trouble. I wasn't ready for the intensity Boris brought to town. That was our only fight. I have a better sense of myself now. I understand attraction and how love is different.”

We looked at each other and smiled.

“How is he?” I asked, wanting to know and taking the risk.

“He's over there. He said to say hi,” Ivan confessed. “A couple of times maybe.”

“You didn't tell me why?”

“Did I tell you how jealous of my brother I am?”

“You showed me once. I never apologized. I should have,” I said. “I didn't understand my feelings. I'm better with that now.”

“No, you shouldn't. Boris knew what he was doing. I knew what he was doing. You were just responding to someone getting sexual with you. Boris is very sexual. I probably had a little to do with that, fooling around with him while he was going through puberty.”

“I didn't mean to piss you off. You're the one I love, Ivan. You're responsible for everything I know, everything I am. You are my life.”

“You're finding yourself, Clay. If I helped I'm happy I did.”

“I don't know Boris. I know he's hot. That's all I know.”

“He's hotter now. The army has made a man out of him. Do you think seeing my brother as a stud is queer?”

“No,” I laughed. “I think it takes more than seeing. What about the guys he brought home from the army with him?” I asked.

“I'm sure one of them was in love with him. I don't know about the other. My brother is such a whore.”

“And you know about Boris and Kenny how?” I asked.

“Boris worked for Dad for two years. He was fourteen and fifteen. I went along sometimes. I saw how Kenny was around him.”

“Like everyone else?” I asked.

“Yeah, Boris has it. Whatever it is.”

“You asked Kenny was he... doing it with your brother?”

“Yeah, I asked him,” Ivan confessed.

“He's like a son to your father,” I said.

“He's been there for Dad for so long now, I think he's closer to Dad than Boris or me. They both need someone, and I need another turkey sandwich. It is my birthday, you know. We stopping at your house? We fed Kenny. We deserve something for our thoughtfulness.”

“Not to mention Arturo,” I said. “We've got a half dozen turkey sandwiches Mama put in the bag for us to take home,” I said. “There were two bags. Kenny only got one.”

“Those are for later, Clayton. You don't want to eat our supply if we can get fresh, do you?”

“I suppose I don't,” I said. “You know Mama. She'll fix food as long as someone wants to eat.”

“Besides, Lucy wanted to play cards. We can eat and play. We'll just keep each other up all night if we go home now.”

“You mean we won't keep each other up all night if we don't go home before sandwiches and cards?” I asked.

“I didn't say that. We'll just start keeping each other up all night later this way,” Ivan reasoned.

“I'm fine with it if that's what floats your boat,” I said.

“Have I ever told you I love you?” Ivan asked, leaning over to kiss me as I drove.

*****

After we got back home, I gave Ivan the album Bookends by Simon and Garfunkel. I'd heard cuts on the radio. John-Henry wrote, “Every unit has a copy and a good supply of grass in Nam.

Bookends was the soundtrack for the picture, The Graduate.

It was about the young and our times. Ivan liked it.

Bookends was a political statement we embraced.

There was a present I waited to get home to give him, me.

*****

One evening, after March turned to April, I came home from dinner and found Ivan staring into the television. I watched, seeing something burning.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Washington D. C. is on fire,” he said.

“On fire?” I asked without understanding.

“Cities are burning all over the country. They murdered Dr. Martin Luther King tonight.”

The fire was huge. It spread from block to block as we watched. There was no fire trucks or firemen anywhere to be seen. No one spoke. There was one camera trained in one spot. It was eerie.

When the one camera began to pull back from the conflagration, the Capitol came into view. We'd marched around the Capitol past the area that was on fire a few months ago.

That's when a film of a man standing on a car began to play. He was surrounded by black faces. I knew by the voice it was Robert Kennedy. He told them that Martin Luther King Jr. had been killed. He said, “My brother was killed by a white man. I know how you feel.”

His brother was the president of the United States. He was gunned down in Dallas over four years ago. Robert Kennedy asked those people to go home and not contribute to the violence. He was running for president. He promised to end the Vietnam war. He wanted to bring peace back to America.

Later, when reading about Dr. King's assassination, the city where Robert Kennedy spoke, Indianapolis, Indiana, had no violence that night.

There was hope for peace.

*****

Something quite amazing happened the week after they killed Dr. King.

It was on a Wednesday. I found an air tank on the floor of my lab. It looked new. SCUBA was printed across the yellow tank.

There was a mouthpiece, regulator, mask, and flippers with it.

It wasn't long before Harry showed up.

“You know what that is?” he asked.

“SCUBA,” I read.

“You know what it means?”

“Sea Hunt,” I said.

“Sea Hunt?” he asked.

“TV show. I watched it in Tulsa. The guy goes out in a ski boat, puts on a tank like that, and he goes into the water.”

“I was thinking more like Jacques Cousteau,” Harry advised.

“Oh yeah, he's the French dude with that big floating lab.”

“Think the Sea Hunt boat with the scientific objectives of Cousteau.”

“I was afraid of that. One can dream,” I said, wondering why the SCUBA gear was on my floor.

“Busy?” he asked.

“North end has a trash pickup today,” I said.

“Let your pop do it today. He knows I'm borrowing you.”

“OK,” I said. “I'm yours.”

“Grab the gear and follow me,” He said.

We went to the marina, walked to the end of the dock where a sixteen foot Chris Craft and Bill Payne waited.

“He know how to use the gear?” Bill Payne asked.

“I don't think so,” Harry said.

“No,” I said. “I know what it's for.”

“Can you learn?” he asked. “If I show you?”

“Sure,” I said, which was my stock answer for such a question.

I had no idea why I was there or what we were going to do.

We headed out of the cove and into the Gulf of Mexico. When Bill got us where he wanted us, he dropped the anchor. Then Bill instructed me on how to use the SCUBA gear.

I followed him down the ladder into the Gulf of Mexico.

Another piece of the puzzle was put into place.

******

I found myself suspended in a magnificent turquoise world.

Using the flippers, I was able to stay close to Bill, but it wasn't easy while being awestruck by what was swimming around me. The glass part of the mask allowed me to see what was in the remarkable world under the sea that the Vilnius Two had been sailing over, with me on board, for years.

How could I have missed what was below us? Why hadn't anyone shown me before?

Time disappeared. Bill moved easily toward a reef. Some of the most vividly colored creatures I'd ever seen lived there. I couldn't keep up with Bill. I was distracted by everything that moved.

It was incredible.

Bill Payne showed me things I liked. Even twenty feet below the surface, the water was clear. The reef and the creatures were thriving.

It was like being submerged into one big aquarium.

When Bill showed me his watch, pointed at his tank, and signaled it was time to return to the surface, I was disappointed. I wanted to stay longer. I'd never done anything as exciting as that. I couldn't wait to tell Ivan about SCUBA diving. This was a game changer. I couldn't wait to dive again. Was I going to dive again?

*****

As the lab became a bigger and bigger part of my life, diving was one of my responsibilities. Diving was also a big part of Bill Payne's marine biology studies. One of my jobs was to keep an eye on the health and well being of the gulf and the creatures in it.

The freedom I felt underwater beat the freedom of being on land or on the Vilnius Two. The beauty was awesome.

Harry's fourteen foot boat was moved to a slip at the marina. I could dive any time I wasn't working, and before long I knew I'd have Ivan underwater with me.

Bill Payne set up a Wednesday afternoon schedule for us to dive together. After each dive we talked about the species of sea creatures we'd come upon. I was learning from living specimens. It was way more fun.

My college education had begun without anyone saying so.

After our next dive, Bill Payne explained why he did what he did.

“If we don't make sure the gulf stays healthy for sea life and people too, we'll lose it one day. Many bodies of water are so polluted they can't support the life that once thrived there. We need to keep that from happening to the Gulf of Mexico. It's far too essential.

“If we don't allow the fishing fleets to grow too large and the boats too big, there will always be fish to feed the people. If fishing becomes about profit, heaven help us. The fish stocks will be quickly depleted. No one will know how few fish there are, until the fishermen begin coming back with empty holds. We can't allow that, Clay.

“There are industrial forces that wouldn't hesitate to ruin these waters if they can make money doing it. By monitoring the marine life in the gulf, by insisting on laws to protect it, we prevent industry from running wild in their effort to make money.

“The one thing you should remember today, Clay, is people will tell you or sell you anything for money. Before buying anything you need to ask yourself, what's in it for them? If money is the answer, your answer should be no.

“We must be the canaries in the coal mine. We advise people if things are going wrong. Harry and I are middle-aged custodians of the deep. You are the next generation of marine biologist. That's why we spend time with you. You're the future, Clay. You'lll help keep the gulf as incredible as it is today.”

After that dive with Bill Payne, I understood my future better. I understood why I was there. I was being made responsible for the Gulf of Mexico and everything in it. I wanted that job.

*****

Ivan and I went diving once I had a few dives under my belt.

“Why didn't you show me this before?” Ivan asked, his manly arms draped over the side of Harry's boat.

“I didn't know about it until a couple of weeks ago. Then I didn't have the boat or the extra tank. Let me take the tank for you,” I said, reaching to take the air tank.

“I need help unstrapping this thing,” he said. “You mind helping with that?”

“You just want me to get my hands between your legs, and then we'll never get the tank on the boat,” I said.

“You found me out. This place is pretty deserted,” Ivan said, scanning the horizon. “Plenty of privacy. Kenny can't walk in on us.”

“It's not on the bus route if that's what you mean.”

“You going to take this?” he asked, handing me the tank. “This could grow on me, you know?”

“It's what I had in mind. I knew you'd like it.”

“Down there. Doing this. I can see how I could fall in love all over again. Going with you on my first dive sealed the deal. Thanks, Clay. You want to give me a hand up?”

“A hand? You don't need a hand climbing into a boat,” I said.

“I'm weak kneed from the excitement of diving. Besides, I'm not as strong as I look.”

“I know where the excitement is,” I said.

He got a hold on me as I pulled him into the boat. I was right about where the excitement was. Our lips met and we made love in the bottom of the boat.

“I do love you, Clayton Olson,” Ivan said as he fell back against the bottom of the boat out of gas.

“You sure do,” I said. “You know exactly how to love me too.”

“What I can't figure out is how we're going to make love down there. I want to make love to you underwater,” he said. “We've done it everywhere else.”

“Our tanks are empty. How long can you hold your breath?” I asked, taking the bait.

“I didn't mean this minute. In case you didn't notice, I just gave my all,” he said.

“I'm ready whenever you are,” I said, hoping I would be.

I put my arm around him and kissed his chest, while he stared into the clear blue late afternoon sky.

“I haven't felt this at peace in a long time,” Ivan said.

“He'll be OK,” I said.

His eyes left the sky to look deeply into mine.

*****

Graduating from high school was super cool. It wasn't the pomp or ceremony I liked. It was the fact I was finally done with school.

Then I remembered telling Harry I'd go to college. I wasn't done with school at all. At least I'd be studying something I would use.

At graduation I didn't look into the boys' faces. I didn't want to remember the last time I saw them. I didn't want to be able to picture a boy after coming across his name on a list of war dead.

*****

We went out on the Vilnius Two the afternoon we graduated. Ivan and I wanted to be on the gulf that day. It was on the gulf where our friendship began.

Ivan told his father and Kenny all about SCUBA diving. We'd been diving once a week since Harry put the boat under my care. I was encouraged to dive often. I was encouraged not to dive alone.

Ivan took to diving like a fish takes to water.

It was beautiful on the gulf that day. We were as happy as we'd ever been. We were heading in the right direction and we were together.

The following morning Mr. Aleksa came off the bridge looking white as a sheet. Ivan and I were sitting together waiting to pull the nets. We'd only just put them into the water.

“What's up, Dad?” Ivan asked.

“They killed another Kennedy last night. The president's brother was shot. He won the California primary. He was going to be our next president. He died a few minutes ago. I was sure he'd end the war. This damn war will never end. I want my son to come home.”

*****

Robert Kennedy promised to end the war. He promised us peace. We got Richard Nixon and five more years of war instead.

When we marched in Washington D. C. there were nearly twenty thousand American war dead. When the war ended five years later, there were nearly sixty thousand American war dead.

No one bothered to count the Vietnamese dead.

*****

In the 1960s, for all its hope and promise, the most liberal minds of our time were gunned down. They were young men with bold new ideas about America. Once they were out of the way, we were left with the same old men to run things.

I didn't need to ask the masters of war how they felt about that.

*****

We went diving on my birthday. We spent the afternoon underwater. Once we returned to the marina, I fueled the boat and we took the tanks to be filled.

We went to my house where we had my birthday dinner, my favorite cake, chocolate with chocolate icing, and chocolate ice cream, along with presents. Ivan gave me a red bathing suit he knew I'd hardly ware and he gave me a new mask for diving. I'd admired it at the store where we refilled the air tanks. The mask gave me a far better view of things.

We left with enough food to keep us going for another day.

I wanted to get back onto the gulf as soon as we could get there and we'd go the following afternoon. Mama fixed a basket with birthday cake for Kenny and Mr. Aleksa to take with us.

As I turned onto the highway to drive the mile to Ivan's driveway, Ivan leaned over to kiss my cheek. He sat back on his side of the car, looking at me oddly.

He leaned over and kissed my lips.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Ivan asked.

"You might have mentioned it once," I said.

The End

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A Rick Beck Story / [email protected]