Mike Has Some Doubts
I kept replaying my conversation with Chuck in my head. Why was he so concerned about Andrew and me? He seemed ok with me being gay, but why was he worried about Andrew being black? Why was it any of his business? I got home just as Andrew was pulling in the driveway. He had stopped and picked up a few groceries, I helped him carry them in.
As we were putting them away, I asked, “Andrew, what was it that attracted you to me when we first met?”
He gave me a puzzled look, “I would say your eyes, I saw a little twinkle in them when you smiled. I love your eyes”
I smiled thinking back to the first night I saw Andrew. I asked, “Does it bother you that I am white?”
Again, he looked confused, he said, “Of course not. What’s going on Mike? Why are you asking me these questions?”
I told Andrew about what Chuck had said. I added, “It bothers me that everyone I tell about us doesn’t seem to be upset about us being gay. But the fact that I’m dating someone who was black is always the first thing they bring up.”
Andrew sighed, “Yeah, I get that reaction sometimes too. I don’t know why that matters to most people.”
He paused for a moment and asked, “Mike, what was it that first attracted you to me?”
Again, I smiled thinking back to the night we first met, “It was your smile, you have the cutest dimples.”
He showed me those dimples and asked, “Does it bother you that I am black?”
I said, “No, of course not. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even notice you were black when we first met. I just saw a guy with a nice smile and as we started to talk, I knew I wanted to get to know you better.”
He smiled and nodded, “Exactly, I saw the same thing. You were just a nice guy that I wanted to get to know better too. You could have been purple for all I cared, and after four years I still don’t care.”
I gave Andrew a hug, “Thank you, I needed to hear that tonight. I don’t usually get upset by what others think, but I respect Chuck’s opinion a lot. When he said he was worried about us, I just started to question myself.”
Andrew said, “Mike, you look up to Chuck. His opinion is important to you. And from the way you talk about him, I think he is genuinely concerned about you. I don’t think you should read too much into what he said. I think he is just being protective.”
I thought a moment, and said, “You know what? I think you’re right; he acts all gruff on the outside, but he is just a big softy at heart. I guess I am overreacting, I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. I know how I feel about you, and I can’t imagine ever being without you.”
“I feel the same way Mike, If the world can’t handle a gay interracial couple, then to hell with them.”
I gave him a kiss, “You’re right. Now go get naked, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Andrew asked, “Where are you going?”
I grinned, “I need to run to the store to get some purple body paint.”
Andrew shook his head and laughed, “You are such an idiot, but I still want to get naked with you.”
He took my hand and led me to the bedroom. After a long make out session, we stripped each other to our birthday suits and were soon orally pleasing each other. The taste, the feel, the smell was just as intoxicating as it was the first time Andrew, and I were together. While our mouths were working their magic, our hands began to roam all over our bodies. My hands finding every muscle, every ripple, every crack and crevasse of Andrew’s body. I loved every bit of that body.
Andrew was fondling my nuts; this always drove me crazy. A finger brushed across my taint and moved in to give a little tease to my pucker. I proceeded to give Andrew’s hole the same treatment. We both knew exactly where to touch each other, and I started to feel my juices begin to churn. From the sounds Andrew was making, it seemed he was in a similar state. Just as if it were planned, we both took each other as deep as we could and exploded, sending our seed down each other’s throats. Once our convulsions ended, we quickly moved around for a kiss. We shared the cum that we had saved in our mouths so that we could mix a tasty cum cocktail. We continued kissing until our lips were raw.
Andrew smiled at me, “Now that we have had an appetizer, shall we go make supper.”
I grinned, “Yep, then we can come back here for dessert.”
Chuck Explains
I was already at my desk when Chuck came in the next morning.
I said, “Good morning, Chuck.”
He sighed, “Morning kid.”
He paused for minute and said, “Hey Mike, I want to apologize for what I said yesterday. Your personal life is none of my business. It is not my place to tell you how to live.”
I smiled, “It’s ok Chuck, I appreciate the fact that you care.”
He ran his hands through his thinning hair, “Well yeah, whatever.” He seemed a bit embarrassed that I understood he really did care.
He said, “Oh, I’m supposed to ask if you and Andrew had any plans for Friday night. Peggy wants you two to come over for supper.”
I smiled, “That sounds great, I will check with Andrew and let you know.”
Andrew was a bit nervous about going to Chuck’s house for supper but relaxed a few minutes after we arrived. Peggy, Chuck’s wife, was a real sweetheart and while Chuck was the boss at the paper, it was clear that Peggy was in charge at home. I chuckled several times as she put Chuck in his place, and I think he loved it when she did. The visit only reinforced my opinion of Chuck; he really was a big old teddy bear under that rough exterior. The way he lit up when he talked about his three kids and his 1-year-old grandson, was just adorable. It was an enjoyable evening and Andrew and Chuck had become friends by the time we left. The next day, Chuck had nothing but good things to say about Andrew. I guess because I never felt like I had the approval of my dad growing up, it really meant a lot to me to have Chuck’s approval.
Mike Finds his Niche
As time went by, and other new reporters were hired, Chuck began to give me bigger stories. And I was able to bring him ideas of my own. One night Andrew and I were watching the local news, they aired a story about a girl that had disappeared ten years ago. The police had nothing to go on, there was no evidence of foul play. When her parents came home from work, she was gone. There was no note, none of her clothes were missing and her schoolbooks were open, like she was doing her homework and just walked away. The next day I asked Chuck if I could write a story about the case, I thought there had to be something that was overlooked. And if we put it back in the news, maybe someone would come forward with some new information.
He nodded, “Yeah, I guess it would be alright, just don’t get your hopes up. These cold cases are usually not solved for a reason. You can work on it in your spare time; I am still going to give you current stories to work on.”
I nodded, “Thanks Chuck.”
I worked on the story over the next month, interviewing police officers that were on the original case, any witnesses that I could find and any family members that were willing to talk to me. I had all the details of the case outlined, and so far, not much that was new.
That changed when I got a phone call from the missing girl’s cousin. She told me that she was sure that the girl was dead. The police had maintained that this was still a missing person case, there was no evidence of a murder. I asked her how she was sure; she told me that the girl’s stepfather had been molesting her for years and she was getting ready to tell her mother.
The stepfather had threatened to hurt her if she ever told anyone. She had told the cousin this about a week before she had disappeared. I asked the cousin if she told all of this to the police, she said that she did, but they didn’t believe her, she was just 13 at the time. The stepfather was a well-respected business owner, an elder in the church, and the police were sure that he would never do anything to harm a member of his own family.
I gave the latest information to the new detective that was working on cold cases, and he talked to the cousin. I went to Chuck with the story, and we agreed that we should publish the story in the Sunday paper. Maybe someone else would come forward to back up the new information. By the Wednesday after the story ran, a former employee called the police to tell them that the stepfather had missed work the day of the disappearance. He was arrested the next day and by the following week had confessed and led the police to where he had buried the body.
Chuck decided that I should start a monthly cold case story. I worked with the police to highlight the cold cases that they were working on. It became one of the most popular columns in the Sunday paper. I had found my niche, now if I could only find closure on the journal and Walter.
Seeing Old Friends
It was already 1986 and I received an invitation to my 10-year high school reunion. I was so happy that Andrew agreed to go with me. I was looking forward to seeing Kyle, Murph and Bug again. As I had predicted, we hadn’t seen each other since dad’s funeral. Andrew and I headed back to Westburg. When we made it to town, I gave Andrew the tour that we didn’t have time for when we were back for dad’s funeral. I showed him the pond and even took him to the shed where I had found the journal. We got to the High School, and I introduced him to all my old classmates, a short time later, Murph showed up with his wife. He was still living in Oklahoma and coaching a high school football team, they had just won their first state championship.
As we were talking, we saw Bug walk in with a beautiful blonde on his arm. He was still in Nashville and was playing guitar for one of the newest stars and had even been in a couple of their videos, he was the hit of the reunion.
As the crowd gathered around Bug, my attention turned toward the door as I saw Kyle walk in. I told Andrew that Kyle was here, and I wanted to introduce them to each other. They were glad to finally meet. I noticed that Kyle had lost some weight and was looking rather pale. After a few minutes, Kyle asked if we could talk alone.
Andrew gave me a smile and said, “I’ll go get us another drink. I’ll see you when you’re done talking.”
Kyle and I sat down, he said, “Andrew seems like a really nice guy, Mike.”
I smiled, “Thanks, he is. I really do love him.”
I asked, “So how are you Kyle? You look like you have lost some weight.”
He nodded, “Yeah, I have. I’ve had some health problems the last few months.”
I said, “I hope it isn’t anything serious.”
Kyle took a deep breath, “Well Mike, it is serious. There really isn’t a good way to say this. Mike, I have AIDS.”
I was a little stunned, “Oh God Kyle, I am so sorry.”
He gave me a weak smile, “Thanks. The doctors have me taking some experimental medicine, but I know that there isn’t much they can do. That’s why I came tonight, I was hoping you would be here so I could tell you in person.”
I felt a lump in my throat, I said, “I don’t know what to say Kyle. I wish there was something I could do to help. You know if you need anything, I will do it in a heartbeat.”
He sighed, “I know Mike. Look, don’t feel sorry for me. I have accepted my fate; I know that there isn’t anything that anyone can do.”
We talked for a while longer, Murph, Bug and Andrew joined us a few minutes later, Kyle filled them in on his condition.
Kyle said, “Ok guys. Enough of this sad shit. Murph, Bug what are you guys up to? Tell me what you are doing.”
After they updated him, we all began to talk about our school years and were laughing and teasing each other for the rest of evening. As we left, I couldn’t help but think that the next time we would see each other would probably be at Kyle’s funeral.
Andrew and I set up an appointment with our doctor as soon as we were back home. He put our mind at ease when we told him that we had only been with each other for the past ten years. He assured us that most of the AIDS patients were those who had many partners as opposed to just one, and that those who used IV drugs were also more susceptible. He gave us both a clean bill of health; we were relieved to have that news.
I was sadly right again, about a year after my reunion, Andrew and I attended Kyle’s funeral. I was glad Kyle’s parents decided to have a closed casket, I wanted to remember him as he was when he was healthy. His mom told me that was exactly why they made that decision. Andrew being by side made a tough trip a lot easier. God, I was glad he was there.
Mike’s Next Story
Andrew and I had saved up our money and we were finally able to buy a house of our own. It wasn’t big or fancy, but it suited us and was in a nice neighborhood. Andrew came home with some more good news a few months later. The superintendent at his school had announced his retirement, Mr. Hogan was going to replace him. Andrew was going to move into the principal job. I was so proud of him, he was so happy and I, of course, spent the entire weekend showing him how proud of him I was.
I had been working at the paper over ten years and was now one of the senior reporters. I was still doing my monthly cold case story as well as the regular stories that Chuck would give me. He called me to his office one day.
He said, “Hey kid, when are going to see your mom next time?”
Yes, even though I wasn’t a kid anymore, Chuck still called me ‘kid.’
I said, “We were planning on going next weekend. Why?”
He said, “There is a reporter up in Jackson that is retiring after 60 years. He is 84 years old. I would like you to go interview him and do a story on him.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Wow, 60 years? You mean to tell me he has been writing for the paper since 1932?”
Chuck nodded, “Yep, he started in June of 32. I think he has written a couple books too.”
I asked, “Chuck, why do you want me to do this story? Surely one of the new guys can handle a fluff piece like this.”
He nodded, “Yeah, they probably could. Look, I’m friends with the editor in Jackson. He has read some of your work and he says your writing styles are very similar. He thinks you two would get along well. Here is his bio and an advanced copy of his final article, please just read them and then we can decide if you should go.”
I went to my desk and opened the file. The bio was pretty brief; he had been at the same paper since 1932. There was a list of articles that won some local and state awards, even one national award. It didn’t appear that he had any formal schooling, and the bio didn’t include any real personal information previous to 1932. He had written 5 books, the first four in the 50’s and 60’s. By the titles, two seemed to be about the civil rights movement, two were true crime stories. The last one was from 1972 and was about some kids growing up in the 1920’s.
I turned to the advance copy of his final article; it was going to be printed in next Sundays edition of the Jackson paper.
I Bid You a Fond Farewell
As most of you already know, this will be my last article. After 60 years it is time to call it a career, and what a career it has been. When I was trying to decide what to write about, I first thought I should say something about the biggest stories from the last 60 years but there are so many, and you have heard them all before. Then I thought I could talk about all the technological advances that I have seen. If I was writing this article in the fifties, I would write it out in long hand and a typist would type it up so I could make changes and rewrites just so she could type it all over again. Now I type it myself, the words show up on a screen. I read it over and push a few buttons and can change any words I want, another button and it prints out on a piece of paper. Again, you all know about that sort of thing, your jobs have all changed in much the same way.
I finally settled on writing this article about the people that I wrote about. It doesn’t matter what the subject of the article is, there was always a person or people behind the story. I could not even begin to guess the number of people I have talked to over the years, some good, some bad, some heroes, some villains. Many I remember vividly, but sadly just as many I probably would not recognize if I met them on the street today. I have always felt it was the people that made the story, not the event that I was covering, I hope that is how each of you read my words.
I have always found it fascinating that two different people can view the person I was writing about completely opposite to each other. You can name any local, state, or national leader and I will show you at least one person that loves them and another that despises them. It is the same with each generation that comes along, the current generation always says the next generation is going to ruin the world and the new generation always says the last generation has already ruined it.
I have always felt that as a journalist, it was my job to present the facts and leave it to the reader to interpret the story for themselves. We all have an opinion and that’s ok, we just need to have an open mind and have respect for those who have a different one. Just remember that people can bring out the best in each other and the worst, always try for the best.
As I sign off for the last time, I think back on a long life and have no regrets. My advice to you would be, go meet people, they are fascinating, don’t get upset if you don’t see eye to eye. You can learn just as much from an uneducated clod as you can from the most informed scholar, it all depends on how you use what you have learned.
I wish you all well, and thanks for reading all my ramblings for the past 60 years. – H.N. Walters
After reading the article, I just had to meet this man. I can’t explain it, but I wanted to learn more about him.
I walked back to Chuck’s office, I said, “I would love to meet Hank Walters, I will leave first thing Friday morning.”
He grinned, “I knew you would, you have an appointment with him at his house on Saturday at 10. The address is on the back of his bio sheet.”
To be Continued…
