Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality
by Charlie
With editorial assistance from Dix and John
Episode 4
Minneapolis
I had only been back at Rockford for a couple of days when I got a brief note in the mail from Norman. He wanted to talk to me on the telephone. I had been impossible to reach through the college switchboard, so he had written. Would I please call him?
I immediately became fearful that Tim had told him too much and that he was upset. What parent wants to learn that his fourteen year old boy is in love with his camp counselor, who had encouraged him? Well, I hadn't encouraged him, I had tried to put him off. But what parent would interpret the situation as anything else but my encouraging? I waited for the low evening rates, and called Norman. He answered and immediately asked me if I was calling from a pay phone. I said I was, and he asked for the number and said he would call me back. The phone rang back at once. "Look Charlie," Norman said without any small talk, "After I sent that note I realized that you were likely to think that Betsy and I were angry. Nothing could be further from the truth. So relax, we need to chat."
"I was nervous, Norman. And if you thought I might be nervous, that means that Tim has told you a lot of what happened at camp."
"Only his version, and it is rather fantastic. Over the years I have gotten a lot of stuff from him that seems like fantasy, but it's always true. He's in love with you, Charlie."
"I know."
"It's not that long a trip from Rockford to Minneapolis. Would you drive up here this weekend? Drive up Friday afternoon when you are finished with classes; eat dinner with us; stay Friday and Saturday nights, and drive home Sunday afternoon or evening."
"And the purpose of this trip is?"
"We need to talk. You and Tim need to talk. Tim wants to hug you and kiss you. Honestly, he'd like to do a lot of other things to you as well."
"Norman! Are you sure about this?" I would be with Tim for two whole days. It was two weeks after Labor Day, three weeks after we had said goodbye at Camp White Elk. I was horny already, but there would be no sex on this trip. That was the only certainty about the trip that I could see.
"Absolutely."
"I'll come. Give me directions."
In three days I would be seeing Tim. We would be together for two days, and it seemed clear that we would be in a situation where we could show affection for each other. My resolve that there would be no sex didn't waver. I wasn't sure where his parents were going to stand on that-their attitude thus far was so unexpected, I didn't really know what to expect.
Friday finally came. I had a ten o'clock class which was over at eleven. I set off immediately, stopping in the Madison area for lunch. As I ate I realized that Ronnie lived in Madison. He was only about two hours away from me in Rockford. We would have to get together from time to time.
I pulled up to Tim's house at about 6:30. I knocked on the door and it flew open immediately. I was pulled inside by a bundle of energy, otherwise known as Tim, who hugged me tight and kissed me squarely on the lips. He didn't stop there, but drove his tongue deep inside me, squeezing me tight. This went on for at least a full minute, when I realized that Norman, Betsy, and Carl were all watching-and smiling. I broke free and said, "Hi, Tim. Hello Norman, Betsy, Carl. It seems that Tim has planned quite a welcome for me."
Carl said, "He told us that if anybody but him opened the door for you there would be Hell to pay, and Tim's Hell isn't worth paying. He torments you forever."
Norman came over and shook my hand, followed by Betsy who declined the handshake and gave me a gentle hug. Carl took my outstretched hand in both of his, squeezed very tightly and said, "It's nice to see you Charlie. I didn't think it would be this soon when we all left camp."
"Neither did I. Norman, your phone call really surprised me."
Betsy said, "Look, we all have a lot to talk about and only two days. But first things first. Tim, take Charlie upstairs to the guest room and let him get washed up for dinner. I know you two want a little time to talk before the whole family gets into the act, so sit in your room and chat for a while. Dinner in about half and hour."
We went upstairs, I put my suitcase in their guest room, and Tim pulled me to his room. He did let me go to the bathroom and wash up, but with some reluctance. Once in his room his mother's injunction to "sit and chat" was immediately ignored as he pulled me onto the bed and kissed me even more aggressively than he had downstairs. "Tim, the idea was to talk. Do you think we might?"
"OK. What do you want to talk about? Love? Sex? Sleeping arrangements? By the way, no way are you sleeping in the guest room. It will be in here, or else nobody in this house sleeps."
"Tim, slow down. Tell me what you told your parents about camp."
"Everything. Absolutely everything, in as much detail as I could remember. How I fell in love with you instantly. How I threw myself at you. How you put me off. How I begged. How you kept saying I was too young. How you wouldn't do anything sexual with me. How you wouldn't kiss me until the end. About our commitment to write and be honest with each other. How I am going to wait till the end of time for you. You know, everything."
"Whew. That about covers it. And their reaction was?"
"Oh, Hell. They were surprised. They said that they had encouraged you to talk to me about my sexuality, but didn't expect me to fall in love with you. I said that I fell in love with you long before we talked about my sexuality."
"Did you try to explain how you fell in love so quickly? I'd like to hear that myself."
"Charlie, you don't understand. You shook my hand, looked into my eyes and said 'Welcome.' I could feel through your hand that you meant it, that you truly cared about me-and the others. Besides you are sexy looking, and you were looking at me like you wanted to rape me on the spot. The match was obvious, only you didn't realize it. I did. I guess I'm smarter than you."
At this I grabbed him, but the only thing I could think to do with him was to kiss him again. So I did. And he returned the favor, with more power than before. My God this kid was horny.
"And what did your parents think about all off this?"
"They had their doubts. They still do. They talked to each other privately for a little while, and then insisted on this weekend. I know that they're hoping that it will all fall apart this weekend, but I took any opportunity to spend time with you. Thus the note, the phone call, the invitation, and the welcome. Nobody knows where we go from here. We start the long conversations at dinner. Which is about ready. Shall we go down?"
I picked him up-he was still a little guy, and always would be-and carried him downstairs into the kitchen. Betsy just smiled as I carried him in and said, "Carry dishes instead of the little wiggler." We both carried things into the dining room and soon dinner was under way.
Betsy led the conversation. "Charlie, tell us about yourself. About school. Your family. About high school. About your sexuality. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Spare us nothing."
Carl said, "But keep it to ten minutes."
I laughed at this, at which Tim said, "He's serious."
"So you are really giving me ten minutes?"
Norman stepped in. "I think Tim would like the full story, blow by blow, day by day, year by year. We'll all take the ten minute version."
"Born in Indianapolis, Indiana, 1940. Ordinary childhood. Attended private middle school, through the tenth grade. Then I decided public schools made more sense, and I went to the local high school. Debate, choir, science and math clubs. Not much sports, but I tried to keep in shape with a little running, swimming, and a lot of water skiing in the summer. Divided summers between Camp White Elk and our cabin in the UP not too far from the camp."
Carl interrupted with, "Let's have a little sexual history here. After all, that is what Tim is interested in, we might as well all hear."
Betsy exclaimed, "Carl!"
Norman said, "Charlie, you know how this family works-though not usually that bluntly. We will be comfortable with however you choose to deal with Carl's question."
"There is not much to tell. In early adolescence I experimented with some neighbor boys. A little with girls but the girls were always afraid to go very far. Even less with either sex in high school. I had a lot of friends who were boys, as opposed to boyfriends. We went to movies, school events, and so forth together but they were never considered dates, nor romantic. I did 'mess around' with a couple of boys, but it didn't go anywhere. I dated a few girls but not often. I'll have to admit to sexual interests both ways."
Carl said, "In a way I was kidding. You're pretty brave. I don't think I could be that frank with the parents of any of the girls I date."
I said, "No, but I doubt that any of them are as open with their parents as you are."
Carl said, "Not even close."
"You know you are an extraordinary family."
Tim said, "Carl and I know, because we talk to lots of other kids. But I am not sure that our parents realize just how exceptional they are."
Betsy said, "I think I'll just let that pass. If it means you love us, we love you too."
Norman said, "Go on, Charlie."
"I went to Columbia University after high school. My semester there was a disaster. I fell in love with New York, the library, trying to relate to the gay community there; you name it, I was interested, except for studying. I didn't flunk out, but staying seemed pointless. My college career was stopped in its tracks, for how long I didn't know. I do remember one thing worth mentioning, if we are trying to be honest about sexual histories."
Tim perked up and said, "What?"
"It's not good. I remember in orientation being told that the health service was available to all students, including mental health services and psychiatrists. I can remember wondering if a psychiatrist could help me deal with my homosexuality-and by deal with it, I meant eliminate it. I report that because I think that was the first time that I really admitted, internally, that I was homosexual at least to some extent. And it also shows that I didn't want to be. But damn, boys were and are exciting sexually."
Tim said, "I've had the same feelings, though the idea of psychiatry being able to change me hadn't occurred to me. Until I found you, Charlie, I wasn't all that happy about being queer. But now that I have found you, I wouldn't want to be made any other way. It would mean that I would lose you."
"Well, I came home from New York with my tail between my legs.
Tim said, "I hope something else as well."
"Tim!"
"Sorry."
"My parents were good about it, but they didn't know what to do with me. The assumption remained that I would go back to college, place unknown. Summers were planned, so that meant about three months with nothing to do. I decided that it would be good to travel, and they had the good sense to agree. So some college money was made available and I set off for Europe. Travel there was very cheap, and I did the circuit. It expanded my world unbelievably. But not sexually. I came back really a new person.
"I spent the summer as a counselor at Camp White Elk, and in the fall entered Rockford College. Small schools can't be too choosy when fall rolls around and they have empty slots for which somebody is willing to pay full tuition. I got in with no trouble. I did OK, getting C's and B's, and an A or two. After two years I was age 20 and again a counselor at Camp White Elk, and in the last session of the summer I had this terrific group of boys who literally changed my life. Tim was one of them. While the others affected me in many ways, Tim blew me over."
Carl said, "Same question. Update your sexual history."
Betsy said, "Same comments from all of us. Carl, really."
"It's OK. I didn't date much, but I did some. I had a very serious girlfriend for a while, we thought we were going to get married. We played around sexually, but I am still a virgin. I played around with another girl, but we both agreed up front that sex was fun, but that we weren't in love. That didn't go far. I had one fling with a roommate, but that didn't last either. Carl, I assume that you don't want a more graphic picture than that."
"I'll take my vicarious sex any time or place that I can get it, but you have pretty much told the story."
Tim said, "My friends don't believe me when I tell them the things I tell my parents. They would be even less likely to believe me if I told them that one of my friends is also that open with my parents. I am almost in shock that this conversation is taking place."
"Are you upset by it?"
"No, pleased, surprised, delighted."
"Good."
Norman said, "I don't' know why stuff like that is so hard for people to talk about. If sex is a natural part of life, why can't we talk about it?"
I said, "I don't think that I'll push that point very far. It wasn't easy to tell you everything I just told you. But, honestly, the most difficult part was admitting the disaster at Columbia. I don't even do a very good job of admitting that to myself."
"It certainly won't be held against you here, Charlie," said Betsy.
"My Greek God has a chip in his statue's elbow. It makes him sexier," said Tim.
"My Nordic God seems to be perfect."
"I could tell stories," said Carl.
"So could we all," said Betsy.
I said, "Please do."
Tim said, "Oh, no."
"There was the time he forget all his lines in the elementary school play."
"His practice history on the piano was a little sketchy, like almost never, till his teacher said, 'Forget it.'"
"That was the best day of my life. Till the day I met Charlie."
"I liked when his spectacular dive last spring ended up in the most spectacular belly flop seen in competition for years. His belly was sore for a week."
"More than a week, I'll have to admit."
"Please, I am sure that I will hear a lot about my little angel over time, but let me keep him up on his pedestal for now, OK?"
"Sure, but just remember the statue really is cracked," said Carl.
Norman said, "Charlie, Tim tells us that when he left camp you had no plans to see him for almost three and a half years. Not just no plans, but active avoidance."
"This trip notwithstanding, that hasn't changed."
"I admire that. But what if his parents tell you it is OK to visit and keep in touch? I am pretty sure they would." said Betsy.
"I had a difficult time explaining this to Tim, and he really didn't want to understand, though he accepted it."
"You didn't give me a choice."
"No, Tim, I didn't, and I am not going to now. You are a boy. I am a man, or soon will be. There is an age line between us, a maturity line. Age eighteen isn't a magic number, but somewhere between my twenty and your fourteen is a line. Men can dream about crossing it, but they don't cross it. Well, some do, but crossing it is immoral, a sin if you like, not to mention illegal. I simply won't do it. But there is more. You are fourteen, and need to spend the next four years finding out about yourself, your sexuality, your loves, your dreams, many other things. You can't do that if you have a commitment to me-or anyone. I won't tie you down.
"I should have simply said 'No' at camp and meant it. Was I wrong not to? Probably. But I am also a man, just past being a boy. You are right, if I didn't have scruples and some kind of moral sense, I could have raped you right as you got out of your parents' car. I couldn't bring myself to say 'No' to you. And the more we talked, and the more you insisted that you loved me, the harder and harder it was to even think of saying 'No'. So in the end I made the suggestion that you agreed to. Was it fair to you? Well, you certainly think so, or you think that it was unfair only in that you didn't get me right away. What would the world think?"
Betsy interrupted, "I can't speak for the world and I don't want to. I want to say right here and right now that I believe you acted morally and responsibility toward my son. No doubt about it."
Norman said, "I agree. Your only legal obligation was not to touch him, and you didn't . Your moral obligation was not to lead him on, and you didn't. I don't think you had any obligation to not even listen to him. In fact, I had told you that I wanted you to talk to him. No, Charlie, there isn't any question that your behavior has been upright."
"I'd have raped him. Right there in the central area. He deserved it," said Carl.
He then exclaimed, "Ow!" Only a swift kick from Tim could have brought that on.
Norman said, "I sense that nothing is going to change your mind about the next three and a half years. Nothing that I can say; nothing that Betsy can say; nothing that Tim can say. Is that right?"
"Yes, Norman. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give Tim a chance to be Tim, to explore his adolescent world and then make his life choices as an adult. I know that his eighteenth birthday is an arbitrary date. But there is no way to pick any date that isn't arbitrary. That is as good a day as any, and all of society, and the law, support that date. So forty months it is."
"Shit," said Tim. He went on before his mother could react, "I accepted the rules when I left camp. Charlie, I learned enough about you at camp to understand that there was no chance of changing your mind when you came here. I promise I won't try. You are going to be here two days. Let's just enjoy each other. It will give us a better understanding of why it's worth the wait. Hell, Charlie. I love you." With that he got up, took the one step to my chair, wound his arms around me and kissed me long and hard. His tongue fought with my tongue. We should have been embarrassed by the onlookers, but we weren't. Finally we broke apart, and we both just sort of grinned at everyone.
Carl broke the ice with, "I'd like to have a girlfriend willing to do that."
Norman went further, "I have a girlfriend that is willing to do that, but not usually with an audience."
Betsy walked around the table to Norman, wrapped her arms around him, said, "I think an audience would be fun," and kissed him very much like Tim had kissed me. Tim kissed me again, and Carl was left staring at both couples.
The kissing ended, and Tim said, "You know who's coming to dinner tomorrow night?"
"Who?"
"Hal and his parents."
"And some good friends of mine," said Carl. I've told them about my good times at camp and they were interested in meeting you.
Norman said, "Sorry, guys, but you are going to have to be in the closet tomorrow night."
"I can deal with that," I said. "I have been in the closet all my life until I met you folks. One night won't kill me."
"I can deal," said Tim.
"Tim and Carl," I said. "Would you all clear up here and let Norman and Betsy and me talk a while in the living room?"
Tim looked startled, but said, "Sure."
The three of us walked into the living room and sat down. Betsy said, "What's up, Charlie? We really do talk in front of Tim."
"I'll have to get used to that, but the counselor in me says that I have to have a little chat with you alone."
"It's OK, Charlie," said Norman. I understand, and I am sure Betsy does too."
"Of course."
"I need to know what is acceptable to you two and what isn't. Both in terms of what I say to Tim and do with him. I guess you have made it clear that I can say anything I want. But he is talking about our sleeping in the same room. He has already had me on his bed with him, kissing. I don't want to get caught between boy and parents."
"The answer is simple, Charlie. Either we trust you or we toss you out. We'd get killed if we tossed you out, so we have no choice but to trust you and not the slightest reason not to trust you. You have had all the opportunity you could possibly need to abuse Tim; it is clear that you didn't. In fact, Betsy and I would be quite understanding if the two of you did things that it is clear that you are going to refuse to do. So we are totally open to your judgement setting whatever bounds you feel are appropriate. Just be warned: Tim really does tell all. So if you are going to be embarrassed by something you are thinking of doing, just be prepared to be embarrassed. But something that is embarrassing is not necessarily either illegal or immoral."
Betsy said, "If Tim weren't Tim, I would expect him to be listening just outside the door. But neither Tim nor Carl would do that. So go get them both and we'll say the same thing so that they can hear.
The rules of the house, and the night, such as they were, were explained to Tim, while Carl listened, in almost the same words they had used when they said it to me.
"Thanks, Dad," said Tim.
Carl said, "I feel left out."
Tim said, "Believe me, you will be."
I said, "Why? If two is fun, what about three?"
Norman asked, "This is the man I just said that I trusted?"
"That's me." I said.
Carl said, "A three-way with no sex is a little pointless. Leave me out."
I said, "This is getting weird. Tim, let's take a walk around a few blocks and then think about going to bed. For many reasons I couldn't sleep with you at camp, and I fully intend to tonight. So I want to get to bed pretty soon."
Tim took my hand and pulled me out the door. As we went out I heard Carl say, "I wonder what his definition of 'sleep with' is?"
Betsy said, "I'm not worried."
We set off, Tim in the lead. He said he wanted to walk to the park. It was about five blocks. Almost nothing was said as we walked, and Tim seemed pensive. When we got to the park we sat down on the ground leaning against two trees. I sensed that Tim had something on his mind, so I waited for him to speak.
"Charlie?"
"Yes."
"What is going to happen on my eighteenth birthday?"
"If the commitment between us hasn't changed-and it could, we both know that-I will come and celebrate your birthday with you."
"And."
"And we'll talk."
"And?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it."
"That's not good enough."
"I don't know what else to say."
"I do."
"What?"
"Are we going to start living together then? Or are we just going to set off on another waiting period, while I graduate from high school, or college, or, or, whatever?"
"How can we plan that now?"
"I need to."
"Tim, we don't even know whether I am going to be at that birthday party. What if you fall in love with someone else?"
"I won't."
"What if I do?"
"I guess I'd have to live with that. But I don't think you will."
"But Tim, if we start making plans we are closing the doors on those possibilities."
"Good, close them."
"Tim, that isn't the idea."
"I know, but Charlie I need something more. I have to know where we are going."
He started to cry very quietly. I realized that I had to give him more, but I wasn't sure what. "What do you want me to say, Tim? What can I give you that will help, but won't compromise the promises I have made to you and your parents that we will leave the door open to other possibilities for the next three years?"
"Let's talk about what happens on my eighteenth birthday. We assume we still love each other. The party's over. We had a honeymoon, and had sex. Then what?"
"You'll be a high school senior. I'll be working somewhere or in grad school."
"Do we live together? Do I have you cuddling with me every night, or do I have to be content with letters?"
"What if I am in grad school?"
"At the U here in St. Paul?"
"What if it is in Madison?"
"What if it is? What happens to us? How long do we wait?"
The crying increased. I felt helpless. I couldn't commit my life at this point. Who could be sure I could get into the University of Minnesota grad school? What if I joined this new Peace Corps? What if?
"Charlie, I need something."
I thought a long time. "OK, Tim. Here it is. My commitment. If-and don't forget that if-if we make it through the next three and a half years-I think it's forty months to be exact-then on your eighteenth birthday we will start living together or will make immediate plans to live together as soon as possible."
His crying continued. He came over to me and lay down with his head resting on my chest. "Charlie, that is exactly what I needed. Now I know where I am going. I can deal with the 'if,' but I couldn't deal with uncertainty after that. I know we might not be able to be together while I am in high school, but when I graduate we will be together, because I'll move to wherever you are."
"Tim, don't commit your life today. We just agreed we'd live together as quickly as possible. I hope it might start on your birthday, but neither of us can promise that today, even with the big 'if'."
"I love you Charlie. Let's go home and go to bed."
"I love you too, Tim." I stood up, and pulled him up, and we walked home. Interestingly, I was already thinking of his house as home. What did that mean, I wondered?
When we got to the front door, I paused and said, "Wait at minute! You are going to march in there and yell, 'Mom, Dad, come here, I have big news', or something like that, aren't you?"
Tim grinned from ear to ear. "Yes."
"Nothing is private in this house, is it?"
"Would you want it any other way?"
"No, I guess not. I think I am jealous. And I'm certainly not used to it. But how about letting me say it, this time."
"OK."
We went in, and I called, "Norman, Betsy," not quite as loudly as Tim would have.
They greeted us quickly, and offered Coke in the kitchen. I accepted at once.
Tim was going to burst if he didn't say something. "Charlie has something to tell you."
Betsy looked at me. "Yes?"
"Actually, it is something that I told Tim, but if I don't tell you he will, and I'd rather it came from me."
"You are certainly right, but what is it?"
"Tim wanted to know what happens on his eighteenth birthday."
Norman put in, "I don't think he is the only one. But aren't we going to have to wait a while to find out?"
Tim interjected, "I needed something more than that. Charlie was reluctant to say more. I cried and pouted and he did give me more. But you have to understand that I pushed and pushed, not Charlie."
"I can believe that with no trouble," said Betsy.
"I told Tim that on his eighteenth birthday, if we still feel about each other as we do now, that we would move immediately to live together. If we couldn't manage it right then, then we would plan for it to happen at the earliest possible moment after that-which is likely to be his high school graduation."
"What about college?" asked Betsy.
Tim answered before I could open my mouth. "College is important. So is diving. So is gymnastics. But Charlie is most important. Everything, and I mean everything, has to work around our living together as soon after I am eighteen as possible. Period. That is non-negotiable."
Norman said, "I have heard statements like that from him before. I have never heard him back off of one."
I said, "Those would not necessarily be my priorities, but you have heard Tim. If I still love him in forty months like I think I do now, then they will be my priorities as well."
"I told Charlie that was all I needed to get through forty months. Charlie, lets go to bed."
Carl had been listening, and now he came over and gave Tim a hug. "Little brother, you are quite a guy. Now, just what are you planning in bed?"
"Some things we talk about. A few things we don't. You will just have to guess the answer to that question. Good night." And he took my hand and dragged me upstairs with such force that I almost fell down.
As soon as we were in his room he was naked, almost in the blink of an eye. "Hurry up. Let's take a shower together. I'll wash your back, since you won't let me wash other things."
"Not tonight. Let's go to bed. A little sweat and odor is sexy. And it is all the bodily fluid we are going to get tonight, kid."
"Always call me 'kid,' I love it. Lose those clothes." He started unbuttoning my shirt.
"The shirt is OK, not the pants."
"Spoil sport."
I finished undressing. Tim was sitting naked on the bed, watching me. He motioned me to sit beside him. "Charlie, I have been dreaming for a month now of sleeping with you. I know exactly how I want to do it."
"You certainly have things worked out to the last detail."
"I am going to lay on my side, facing the wall-my left side. You slip in behind me, and we will fit together like two spoons. You are so much bigger than I am that you will sort of wrap around me. Hug me tight and I'll feel your hard dick against my buns."
"How do you know it will be hard."
"Funny. Ha, ha. Then I can wiggle my ass just like I did to you on the archery range."
"I knew that wasn't an accident."
"Funny again. Ha, ha. Your arm can wrap around me and you can do all sorts of things to me."
"Tonight my hand will stay above your waist."
"Damn."
We got into bed, just like he described. I thought I was in heaven. His body was so soft, his wiggle so sexy. His nipples so firm. His belly button so cute. I could just kiss his cheek. He turned and our lips kissed. He said, "I intend to go to bed like this every day for the rest of my life."
"Just how do you plan to do that?"
"Either you will be just where you are now, or I will imagine that you are there. I'll kiss the pillow, and I will wiggle my ass for you, even if you are only imaginary. When you go to bed, think of that wiggle. It's all you are going to have for forty months. Are you sure you don't want to rethink this deal?"
"Tim, of course I want to rethink it. But we can't. I can't. It's not right. And ten years from now we want to face the world and be able to say to everyone that we were honorable in our relationship right from the beginning. It can't be clouded by a twenty year old man having sex with a fourteen year old boy."
"This isn't sex?" He wiggled his ass.
"You are pushing the boundaries; you always have. I guess that is part of what I like about you. But we are not crossing the line. If I moved my hand six inches lower I would be across the line. But it's not going lower. Sorry, kid."
"Good night, Charlie."
"Good night, Tim."
I wasn't sure how sleeping would be, two in a single bed, wrapped around each other. I needn't have worried; we both slept like babes.
Tim was awake before me, and as soon as I stirred, he bounded out of bed and said, "Shower time." I opened my eyes and found his hard-on about a foot in front of my nose, aiming straight at me.
"Boundaries, Tim."
"Like you said, I like pushing them. Get up, let's shower."
I wrapped a towel around myself and followed Tim, who remained naked, to the shower. It was a big stall, with room for both of us, but without much extra room. We certainly touched in a lot of places. I scrubbed his back and he scrubbed mine. He watched with great interest as I washed my genitals, and I watched him just as carefully. But that was it. We got out, dried off, and went back to his room and dressed. I asked, "What is the plan for the day?"
"We eat breakfast, pack a picnic lunch, set off in your car, find a nice place to eat on this lovely Indian summer day, talk, dream of doing other things, talk, and drive home in time for dinner."
"Sounds great." Breakfast was great. Norman, Betsy and Carl ate breakfast with us, and wished us well for the day. Norman had some suggestions on where to go, and we decided to drive up to Chisago City on Chisago Lake. It would be about an hour away, had nice parks, and a pretty lake. If we wanted to drive more we could, but we really just wanted to sit and talk on what promised to be a lovely day.
We set off shortly thereafter. Traffic was a little heavy, presumably because a lot of people had the same idea we had regarding the beautiful day. It took about an hour and fifteen minutes, traffic was slower than usual but there were no real delays. We easily found a nice park on the lake, and just a short walk away from the parking lot got us the privacy we sought.
The main thing that Tim had wanted to talk about he had covered the night before. Now he wanted to hear my life story-the blow by blow account that wouldn't fit into Carl's ten minutes. He quizzed me unmercifully about playing strip poker as a fifth and sixth grader, and learning to masturbate while playing a similar game with a ninth grade friend. Then he wanted to know about how often I masturbated, where, ever with anyone else? His curiosity wasn't limited to sex, he wanted to know about high school, my debating, singing, swimming, water skiing. I talked more about myself in those two or three hours than I ever had before. No one else had ever been that interested. I was remembering things that I had forgotten. He wanted to know what had gone wrong at Columbia. About Rockford College. About my roommate. He wanted every detail of our cabin in Michigan; its knotty pine walls; its huge kitchen, dining room and living room combined; its large lake with almost no development; the boathouse; the resort up the lake. His interest was boundless. I enjoyed talking about myself.
Then it was time for lunch. We ate quietly, but I said that after lunch it was his turn to talk about himself. Tim's problem talking about himself was that either he was unwilling to brag about his successes, or he really didn't understand how exceptional his life had been. Later, as I grew to know him, I realized that it was a little of both. He had started gymnastics at a local club program when he was five. He started diving at the Y two years later. His coaches at both programs told him that there wasn't enough time in the day to do both, but he refused to pick between them, juggling his schedule as best he could. By age nine both of his coaches realized that he was pretty exceptional. They also realized that they either had to work around the scheduling problems of the two sports or lose him. Somehow he kept up the two programs as well as getting excellent grades in school. Betsy had been run ragged driving him from place to place, but she had been a good sport. Tim had been conscious of the demands that he was making on her and had tried to make up for it by being as helpful as he could around the house and yard. But Betsy had pushed him to study, and didn't demand a lot of work from him.
He and Carl had been good friends from the beginning. His parents had set the tone in the house-they were universally kind to each other and to the boys, and demanded that the boys be the same, especially to each other. Tim's only memory of being severely punished (grounded for a week) was for something that he had done to Carl-he remembered the punishment, not the deed. Somehow he had realized quite young that he had very unusual parents, and an unusual brother as well. The stories his classmates told of fighting with their siblings, and not getting along with their parents simply didn't ring true. It had slowly dawned on him that he was the exception. He was proud of his family and his place in it, and that encouraged him to meet his parents' expectations about family life. As a result, his family was a source of unbounded support and joy. His friends were always welcome at home, he could invite them for meals at a moment's notice. He could be sure that Carl would always treat them with respect. The only problems that crept in were when either his or Carl's friends failed to meet the behavior standards of the house. But guests in the house quickly learned that teasing, fighting, or any lack of respect was not tolerated. Guests conformed or weren't invited back. Most found the home to be such a joy that they didn't risk misbehavior.
I asked Tim how his parents had handled telling him the "facts of life."
"You mean sex? For starters we avoided euphemisms."
"I stand corrected."
"Everything was open and honest. There was no false modesty, we were comfortable being naked around each other. All questions were answered. If a manikin was needed, one of us became one. That put a lot of stress on Mom, because boys have more questions about girls and there was only one female to look at. I remember when I was about ten and I heard the word clit at school. I came home and asked about it. Dad explained that it was a crude term for clitoris a very important part of a woman's body. That night mom showed me was a clitoris was."
"What about fucking? Certainly they didn't model that."
"No, dad explained exactly what it was, about different positions, and how is was private and reserved for people in love. Babies and contraception got in there too."
"What about masturbation?"
"One evening, just at the end of seventh grade, the family was talking together. Mom said, 'Tim do you know what a wet dream is?' I said that I did. She asked, 'Do you know you are having them?' I asked how she knew. 'The mess on the sheets.'
"Dad said, 'Do you know about masturbation, some people call it jacking off.' I answered 'Not really.' Dad said, 'Carl, I think you should be the teacher.'
"Carl said, 'You explained it to me, do you want me to explain it to him or show him?'
"'Help him do it the first time. I didn't think it was a good idea for a father to do that, but you kind of struggled.'
"'What do you mean, I struggled.'
"'You struggled. I had to explain three times. Most kids learn from talking with contemporaries or older kids. You had a home conversation much earlier than most boys learn from their peers. You had a little trouble.'
"That night Carl came to my bedroom and helped me put my hand on my dick and rub. It took a while but I came. I remember it being the most wonderful feeling. Why are people ashamed of it?"
I told Tim that I didn't think they should be; that most kids, and certainly almost all boys jacked off; that I did; that it felt good and wouldn't hurt me or him."
"That isn't news to me, Charlie. The only problem we had with sex education in this house was that Carl and I would be as open and honest with classmates, other parents, and teachers as we were in our house. Cautions against that were pretty frequent. And we were embarrassed a couple of times-one doesn't use the words fuck and clitoris around a teacher! Heck, I knew fuck was a swear word, as in fuck you, but it never occurred to me that there was something wrong with talking about a kid's father fucking her mother. I learned fast."
I still chuckle about the image that brings up. Tim had said to a girl, who claimed that her parents didn't have sex, "Your father had to fuck your mother or you wouldn't be here." Tim said the sky almost fell after that was reported back to his teacher. His parents were called, and it was all they could do to not laugh while the teacher recited the story over the phone. But Tim, and Carl, were cautioned that the rules of the house were not the rules of the school. That wasn't the first caution, but it was the most emphatic. Then all four had had a good laugh.
In this environment my superboy had thrived. He was universally loved and admired at school, where he was a natural leader. In gymnastics his moves were effortless, but because of his lack of time, he hadn't mastered the difficulty levels of some of his contemporaries. In diving he was, quite simply, a natural. His coach had never suggested a dive that he couldn't do, usually with very little effort. He had to consult books to find more difficult dives to challenge him. Especially from the platform, he won every prize in sight. He had been captain of the under-14 team the year before-at the Y. Now that he was in high school, he would be competing on his high school team. The Y had tried to encourage him to stay with them, but he felt that he needed to support his school. And he liked the high school coach whom he had gotten to know at meets.
Getting all of this out of Tim was like pulling teeth. But as the afternoon wore on he slowly opened up-especially about life with his family. He understood that he was blessed with an exceptional family, and he was so eager to make me a part of it. I had the feeling that when, and if, I entered this family that their expectations of love and harmony would begin to control my life. Years later I would realize how true that thought was. If you treat people with love and respect, you get it back. I was never treated in any other way by Norman, Betsy, Carl or Tim-not ever. And it was easy to give back the same love and respect.
Tim finally said, "Let's go home. I am eager to see Hal." We packed up and headed back to the Twin Cities.
Dinner was a grand affair. Betsy, Norman and Carl had turned the house upside down, moving the dining room table into the living room and adding a huge extension to it so that everyone could sit at one table. Dinner would be the five of us, four of Carl's friends-two boys and two girls-Hal and his parents and two others, whose places were not explained. The house was full of the aroma of a huge roast in the oven. Tim's and my offers of help were rejected: we were told that we were the honored guests, and that we should go up and change. I got Norman aside and asked if ties were in order, and he suggested that it would be a good idea. Tim wasn't real excited about that, but he complied willingly.
We came downstairs and found Norman, Betsy, and Carl (also in a coat and tie) relaxed in the dining room-where some living room chairs had been moved. I wasn't used to people being that relaxed before a big dinner, but here they were. I took the opportunity to say, "Tim and I did a lot of talking today. I have come to understand the source of his love and strength-his family. You all are quite a bunch. And the love and honesty which underlies this home is a revelation for me. I think you do realize how exceptional this home is, but I want to say it and affirm it anyway."
Carl said, "As I talk to my friends, and they remark on the welcome that they feel here, I really feel the difference. Mom and Dad don't really understand how different, and wonderful, they are."
I said, "Just to have a teenage son say that is extraordinary."
Betsy said, "What saddens me is that I really do believe that what Carl says in true. But the love and warmth of this home, which I think you have felt Charlie, should be the norm."
Norman added, "Charlie, thank you for saying that. It makes us really feel good. And we are glad that Tim has found someone that recognizes his strengths, and the sources of those strengths."
Tim said, "I love you all. Thanks."
The doorbell rang. Carl opened it and his four friends came in. Betsy had told me that she had urged Carl to invite some of his close friends, as the rest of the party was centering around Tim. Carl introduced me to Gabe and Nancy, and Bill and Terri. Gabe looked around at the coats and ties, and said "Dad, it appears we are underdressed-Carl should have warned us."
Carl and I spoke at once:
Carl: "I was afraid you wouldn't come."
Me: "Dad?"
Norman stepped in, "Boys you're fine. You always look nice, and your shirts and slacks are great. Charlie, a lot of the boys' close friends call us Mom and Dad. We love it."
Gabe said, "It just seems so natural. Most of Carl's friends are as close to this Mom and Dad as we are to our own. My folks are divorced, and I hardly see my father. Dad really is my Dad."
Terri asked, "Why the party?"
Betsy replied, "Tim is entertaining his camp counselor from this summer, and a fellow camper, Hal, and his parents. We thought Carl might like company. It's good to have you all."
Casual conversation continued until interrupted by the doorbell, again. Betsy opened the door. A middle aged couple came in. They were clearly strangers. The man said, "I'm Coach Johnson and this is my wife Phyllis."
"Welcome," said Norman. "When we invited Hal and his parents, Hazel said that she thought you might like to meet Charlie, so we invited you. We are so glad you could come. It is a surprise for Hal that you will be here."
Phyllis said, "I have heard a lot about this Hal; I am going to be delighted to meet him. Betsy and Norman, it is so gracious of you to invite us."
Betsy said, "I think that Charlie is going to enjoy hearing about Hal's cross-country running adventures from the expert."
Coach came over to me, extended his hand, which I shook, and said, "You must be Charlie. Hal never stops talking about you. He says he owes his life to you and the group of boys at camp this summer. I assume that that is an exaggeration, but he insists it isn't. From what I have heard from some of the other ninth grade boys, it isn't too much of an exaggeration."
"My role was minimal. Actually, it was a boy from Detroit named Tom who should get most of the credit."
The doorbell rang again and in came Hal and his parents. "Coach! What are you doing here?"
"I came for dinner. Funny meeting you here."
Hal looked a little confused, but we all laughed, and he got the joke. "It's great to have you here. He looked around and went over to Phyllis, saying, "You must be Mrs. Johnson. I am delighted to meet you."
Phyllis said, "And I am delighted to meet you. Coach talks about you a lot. He says you are going to be Como Park High School's star runner for four years."
Hal just beamed. But one look at his parents and it was clear that they were beaming more. John saw me looking at him and pulled me aside. "The running is a minor miracle compared to his stepping up to a stranger and introducing himself."
"It is amazing what a little self-confidence can do. The running is responsible."
"Since we have all these underage people here we aren't serving drinks. Besides, with the house turned inside out, there is no place to go but to the dinner table. Let's eat." That was Norman, leading the parade to dinner.
Betsy brought in the huge beef rib roast; Carl and his friends brought in the rest of the meal. Norman carved, and Betsy served everyone. As soon as people were served, I started the conversation with, "I want to hear of Hal's adventures running."
Hal, Hazel, and Coach all started at once. Hal drowned them out-only the new Hal would have accomplished that. "The first day of school I found out who coached cross-country and I went and introduced myself to him. I knew that I needed running shoes, and I wanted advice on what to buy and where to buy them."
Coach said, "I asked him how much running he had done. The answer of three weeks wasn't very encouraging. You can't believe how many kids arrive each year with ambitions to be involved with a sport, but they simply haven't got experience. Usually thinking they are going to start in high school is a pretty good indicator that they are going nowhere. But I had to give Hal an honest answer, and I sent him off to Jerry's Sporting Goods, with the advice that good shoes cost a lot, but that Jerry's advice would be sound and honest."
Hazel picked up the story, "He came home and wanted to head for Jerry's right that minute. I wasn't at all sure about this. I thought I'd call John, but I knew he was on the road. I thought of calling Charlie, who seemed to have an answer for everything. But I didn't need to call him, I could hear his answer ringing in my ears without my having to ask the question, 'Buy him the damn shoes.'"
"That would have been my advice, but I might have phrased it differently."
Hazel continued, "Do you know what I paid for those shoes? $52. I could have paid more, but Jerry said these were as good as the more expensive ones. But, he did add that if I didn't want to smell Hal's feet all the time, I should get two pairs. I was going to tell Hal that we'd see if he kept up the running and then buy the second pair, but I heard Charlie's little voice-actually it was a booming voice-in my ear: 'Really great, let him know that you expect him to quit. Remember, he needs positive reinforcement.' We bought both damn pairs. See Charlie, I don't need to call you because I know what you are going to say before you say it."
I asked, "Hal what did you think of all this?"
Hal smiled and said, "I was wondering who had mixed up all the circuits in my mom's head."
John said, "Charlie had. It cost me over a hundred bucks for two pairs of shoes. That is more than my whole closet of shoes cost. Hal, Charlie, Coach, don't get me wrong. It has been worth every penny to see Hal enjoy his running."
Coach continued, "So Hal shows up the first day in these brand new shiny white shoes, new socks, new shorts, new tee shirt, new flattop, and I figure him to last maybe till the end of the week. We did some loosening up, and talked about the plans for the year, the practice schedule, and the running plan. We cover 8 to 12 miles each practice. Nothing on Hal's face looked the least worried about that much running. I got groans from some of the rest. Then I said, 'OK off to the track for today, so I can see you run. Sixteen laps. That would be four miles.
"Runners always fall into groups, usually three. You've got the leaders who leave everybody behind, but one by one about half the starting leader group will drop back to the second group where most of the runners fit. That group struggles to keep up, but they make it. Then you have the stragglers, who may not be much of a group, but they will be way behind the main group. Most of them are gone from the team in a couple of weeks or sooner. I figured Hal for that group, or perhaps struggling in the middle group.
"I was just a little bit wrong. Virtually without effort Hal was off and running, staying in position two in the lead group. I was startled and watched him pretty closely. He wasn't in the lead, but he was setting the pace. The lead runner would fall back and Hal would sort of fall back with him, then a new leader would put on a burst off speed and Hal would stay right on his heels. It was Hal's pace the whole way, but he avoided the lead except for a few brief moments. At the three mile mark I shouted to the leaders that they were going to have a hard time holding the pace for another mile. That was very true, except for Hal. He was running second at the end, but while all the others staggered off the track, Hal ran another quarter mile before stopping."
I came over to him and realized that he wasn't really tired by the run. I asked, "You look like you could keep going."
"I run eight to twelve miles every evening; but I'll finish up later. Four isn't enough to satisfy me."
"I was also impressed that Hal decided not to come in first-which he certainly could have, right Hal?"
"I figured that wasn't the best way to endear myself to new teammates."
"The team leaders, who Hal had just worked out more than they were ready for, came over. I introduced Hal to Brian and Chick, seniors, and Frank who's a junior. They are all three really good runners, and I think they can beat Hal now. They have almost six inches of height on him, and were out of shape that first day. They don't run like they should in the summer, and had only been working on their running for a week. Two more weeks of practice and they are giving Hal a run for his money. But Hal is two or three years younger. Give him a year or two, and a couple of inches, and nobody in the Twin Cities will touch him."
Hal said, "They pushed me pretty hard yesterday, and Brian and Frank were ahead at the twelve mile mark. We all decided to jog in from there-it was Friday and getting late."
Coach said, "I talked to the phys ed teacher at Hal's junior high school and asked him why he hadn't alerted me about Hal. He reply was 'Who's Hal? Never heard of him.' He finally placed him in gym class and said, 'That kid couldn't run around the block. A real loser.' Sorry Hal, that's a direct quote. So I want to know what the Hell happened this summer."
Hal said, "Charlie..."
I cut him off. "It wasn't me, it was a kid named Tom. And Hal has been called a loser before. You should have heard Tom lay him out the fourth night of camp. I was so shocked to hear Tom say what he said that I don't think I'll ever forget his words. Do you remember Hal, what Tom said? It was, 'Hal, you're a drip. You look stupid. Your clothes are stupid. You haven't got a muscle on you. You're hair's too long. You haven't got any friends. You stay out of most games. Am I right?' Of course, he was right, and Hal knew it. They had a simple question for him, did he want to change? Well, yes he did, and the rest is history. They ran him, swam him, bounced him on the trampoline, threw baseballs at him, got him new clothes, cut his hair, made him keep his head up and talk like a man, and the next morning they started all over again. This was constant for almost two weeks. Amazingly Hal seemed to thrive on it."
Hal cut in, "I loved it. I never liked who I was, and I hated being a loner. Here were these six boys, and Charlie, paying attention to me every minute, running my ass off-sorry Mom-making me swim. They pushed me to do a flip on the trampoline and I thought I would die first. But Franklin-Coach he was just a year older than me, but he was the biggest, nicest guy in camp, must have been six foot four-said he would catch me if I fell, and that if I didn't try a flip he would bounce me so hard I'd flip anyway. It was all pure Hell, except the running. When I ran I escaped their pressure, and I loved to run. I ran through the woods on wonderful trails, with about four other kids that liked to run. But nobody wanted to run as much as I did, so different boys would run with me each loop of about two miles.
"The rest of the day wasn't pleasant. But I had said 'Yes' and I stuck with it. I don't think that they would have given me any choice. Coach, on a bad day, you couldn't come close to putting me through what those boys put me through. And I love every one of them for it. Tim was my trampoline teacher, and he would bounce me till I was ready to drop, and then get up on the trampoline with me and insist that we go double. He would make me use my greater weight to give him greater height. But that's tiring, and he knew it, didn't you?"
"Of course," said Tim. That was the idea. We only had a little less than two weeks to get a year's worth of muscles on you. We did some real good, too."
Hazel cut in, "We got the strangest letter from Charlie talking about the new Hal. It really didn't make sense. We called him on the phone and that call didn't make much sense either. Basically he told us to expect to pick up a different boy than we dropped off and sort of roll with the punches. Oh, yes. He also said we should leave all of Hal's clothing in the camp trash and buy him new. We took the clothing home, but we did buy him new. Those wonderful hiking shoes we bought for camp haven't been on his feet. They cost almost as much as those running shoes."
John said, "Every time we started to say something, Charlie would whisper to us and tell us to say it differently. I guess we were slow learners. He said to call him anytime, but Hazel is right, we haven't needed to call. The watchword has been, 'What would Charlie say?' We always know what you'd say Charlie, without asking. We are learning that common sense and love can go a long way."
Terri spoke up, "I've never heard such a wonderful story. I'd love to meet this Tom, and Franklin. Carl, thanks for including us tonight. This has been neat."
Carl said, "I watched at camp, but I loved hearing Coach's description of Hal's first day. I'd have loved to have been there and seen the expression on everyone's face. Hal got much the same reaction at camp as the time went by."
Hal said, "Charlie, Tim, I simply can't thank you enough. I literally owe my life to you. I was miserable and didn't have a life. Now I do, and I love it. I love running. And I love people and having them like me. I just don't believe what has happened to me."
Hazel said, "Every word of that is true, and John and I extend exactly the same thanks. Tim and Charlie, if we can every repay you in some way, please give us a chance."
Hal changed the subject by asking, "Charlie what are you doing here. Aren't you supposed to be in school in Rockford?"
"I am visiting Tim for the weekend. I was hoping that I would see you too, and I was delighted when Betsy told me that you would be coming this evening."
"You're not going to tell us the real story, are you?"
"Whatever you are thinking is the real story, forget it. I enjoyed Tim this summer, and we decided to spend a weekend together. Your summer was the summer of running, Tim's was the summer of deep conversations with Charlie. We have enjoyed continuing them this weekend."
Hal just smiled.
Carl said, "I have something that you all might like to see." He went upstairs and came back down with an inexpensive photo album. He opened it and we saw that it contained camp snapshots. Sure enough, there was Hal in his work pants, leather shoes, polo shirt, long hair, stooped shoulders, head cast down. One glance from the photo to the new Hal told the whole story.
Coach said, "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Hal you are a wonder. But Charlie, Tim, Tom, Franklin and the others are being given too much credit. The guy who did the work, and the changing was Hal, and don't you forget it. You aren't dependent on the kids-wonderful as they are-to be the new Hal. You are dependent only on yourself."
Conversation drifted to many other subjects, and we talked well into the evening. About ten Coach said it was time for him to go, and that pretty much ended the party. Carl and his friends left together, to go get Cokes somewhere. Hal and Tim hugged till I wasn't sure whether he was my competition. They promised to keep in touch, and watch each other's sports. Soon Tim and I were alone with his parents. I said, "Thanks, Mom and Dad. That was a simply wonderful party. And I figure that if Carl's friends can call you Mom and Dad, I can too."
Tim said, "Charlie, let's go to bed."
We said "Good Night" all around, and Tim and I headed up. We showered together for the second time that day, and headed for bed. As we spooned together, Tim said, "Today was the best day of my life, bar none. I spent the day with you, loving you, alone with you. Then that wonderful dinner with Hal. Charlie, all I really want out of life is to have an experience like that from time to time. When I saw Hal, and heard of his success, and thought that I had some small part in it.... Well, that was one of the best moments of my life. I'd trade winning any diving meet for the thrill of knowing that I helped Hal accomplish what he did. Once a year, Charlie. If I get strokes like that once a year, I'll die happy-assuming that I am still your partner when I die."
I squeezed Tim, for which I got a little wiggle as a reward. Then I said, "I love you, Tim." But I said to myself, "I'll love Tim forever. His joys will be my joys. And I pray that I can match him in selflessness." I had had the same feeling about Hal's story that Tim had. I glowed, both from Tim's wiggles and Hal's thanks. Sleep came easily.
At breakfast the next morning, Norman asked, "Do you want to go to church, Charlie? I really don't know whether you are involved in a church or not. We aren't."
"No, not since I headed off to college."
"We used to be, but then we learned that we had a gay son. That made us think. We simply couldn't deal with a church that told us that our son was a sinner because he liked boys. We haven't found one that can deal with Tim. We simply find our religion in the loving bosom of this family."
"Norman, that's wonderful. My departure from church has not been that carefully thought out. I just never went at college and haven't had any inclination to go since. I don't remember homosexuality ever being mentioned in my church in Indianapolis. But I can imagine what people would have thought had the matter come up."
Betsy said, "Well, what's on for today, boys?"
I said, "I'd like the four of us, Carl can join us, to talk for a while. I'd like to get to know you better."
"Fine with us. Think you can share Charlie with us for a while, Tim?"
"I don't think I have a choice. But sure. Charlie, do you have something in mind?"
"I don't know much about your folks, Tim. Norman, Betsy, tell me about your work."
Norman worked for 3-M as a mid-level executive. Betsy worked three days a week for a non-profit, End to Hunger, which supported soup kitchens and food banks in the Twin Cities area. They had met in college at the U in St. Paul, and married soon after graduation. Carl came on pretty quickly. Tim a year later. That made them both 38 years old.
I asked, "I guess the thing that interests me most is how you became such good parents. Both boys talk about how exceptional you are, and I can almost feel it in the house."
Betsy replied, "We had good parents. But I think that there are several parts to the answer. First, we love each other, we aren't afraid to show it, and we work at it. Second, before we had Carl, and often since, we talked about parenting. We haven't made decisions about parenting by accident, but by thinking and talking about it. We decided first off that loving our children was our number one priority. We didn't buy into that crap about worrying about spoiling children. You can spoil them with things maybe, but not with love. And we learned to say 'Yes'. So many parents get into the mode of saying 'No' and then rethinking. We decided that the automatic answer to a child should be 'Yes' unless there was a very good reason. And then we always gave the reason along with the 'No.' We also tried to teach the boys to think about their requests and only ask for things that they thought were reasonable. With those house rules we almost never have to say 'No' to Carl or Tim."
Carl spoke up, "My friends say they can feel the love in this house. And they can't believe the things Mom and Dad say 'Yes' to."
"Like what?"
"OK, an example. Last spring the baseball team headed to Duluth after the last game-it's not a school trip, and generally only the junior and seniors can convince their parents to let them go. They camp at a park on the lake. It's a long standing tradition. I was the only ninth grader allowed to go. The other parents were worried about their kids getting in trouble. Mom and Dad didn't think twice, they knew they could trust me. We had a great time. Some of the seniors got into beer, but I didn't."
Tim said, "Carl and I have hiked and camped all over during summers. We catch a Trailways bus and head up north to lake country. We were doing that when our contemporaries were hardly allowed to go downtown by themselves."
Norman said, "We have been criticized for being too relaxed with the boys. But we think the proof is sitting in front of you."
"I know it is."
We chatted for about an hour. Then Tim said, "I want him to myself now." He pulled me upstairs. We hugged and kissed for a while, but then he said, "Let's go for a drive."
"Where to?"
"Anywhere, but let's start driving around the neighborhood; I'll guide you past my school. Then we'll just let the car lead. It's comfortable, we can talk."
We passed Southwest High School where he attended. A brick and stone structure, it looked neither modern nor decrepit. It was solid, and it looked to me like solid learning could take place inside. "The pool is on the back, you can't really see it from here," Tim said. "The bond issue to build it was pretty controversial. Before that, the swim/dive team had to practice at the YMCA."
We drove on. It was clear from the casualness of the conversation that we had covered all of the important things that either of us felt had to be covered before we separated. Then Tim said, "Charlie, I don't know whether I can make it forty months. I'm not asking you to change the rules, and I'm not saying that I won't wait; I'm just not sure I can make it."
"Tim, you don't need to make it. You need to keep yourself open for whatever comes along these next three years."
"Bullshit, Charlie. You keep saying that, but it's not going to happen. Ask Mom and Dad, I don't change my mind once it is made up."
"Tim, it's not supposed to be made up. It's supposed to be open."
"Bullshit again. Remember, it took me two minutes. What do you think has happened since then to make me think I was wrong? Nothing, and you know it. I accept your rules; I almost understand them. But forget the crap about keeping an open mind. It's closed like a steel trap."
Mine was as well, but I couldn't admit it. Tim was fourteen. He may have thought he had a steel trap for a mind, but nobody did, including him. But that was what I thought. What I said was, "I love you." And I pulled to the side of the road and we kissed.
We headed back. Mom and Dad were waiting with lunch. As we ate Norman said, "I think we need to talk a little more. I know that Tim is absolutely certain that you two will be life partners. He is young to make that decision, and I respect that you have urged him not to, Charlie. I don't know what you think of the future, but I think you wouldn't have come here this weekend if you didn't have some hope that things would work out. You need to know, without question, that if you and Tim are still in love, and want to make your lives together, you will be welcomed into this family as a son. Betsy and Carl both support me in that. We all wanted you to know it.
"Thank you, Norman. The future is unclear, but that is incredibly generous."
Tim said, "Thanks Dad, Mom, Carl. I love this family." He looked at me, "I'm going to make it Charlie. I know I will."
"I will too."
"Oh, Charlie, that's the first time you have really said that. Thank you. Oh, God, I love you."
I looked at Norman and Betsy and saw they were smiling. I kissed Tim square on the lips, my tongue sneaking inside. When we separated I said, "I love you, too, Tim."
Betsy said, "I think you two need time alone. Norman and I have some errands to do. Carl, go visit one of your girlfriends. We are going to give Charlie and Tim the house till dinner time."
They were all soon gone. Tim and I just sat on the couch and hugged each other. We were talked out, but we would never be hugged out. We talked a little, and walked upstairs and lay on the bed, fully clothed, in our spoon position. Then Tim said, let's take a shower.
When we had our clothes off, he said, "First let's lay on the bed a while." We did, and my hard dick pressed into his butt, which wiggled back. It took a lot of effort to keep my hands above his waist, but I did. After a while we did take a shower. He scrubbed every part of me that I would let him (almost all of me) and I did the same for him. Maybe I was making a silly distinction, but I knew that if I crossed my line, imaginary or not, that I would never forgive myself. And I had a whole lifetime of regrets to avoid. We remained chaste. When we kissed, our penises got in each other's way, and that was as close to sex as we would get for forty months.
We dressed and I packed my stuff. Dinner followed. We had a good time together with his family. I was already thinking of them as my family. A long goodbye followed, but it had to end eventually. I said my thanks and farewell to Norman and Betsy, kissing them both, and hugged Carl. Tim was openly crying and so was I. We hugged and kissed a final time, and then I had to get in my car. I rolled down the windows and there were more goodbyes. Ending such scenes is difficult, but at last I started the car and drove down the street. I went about four blocks and then I had to stop. I put my head in my hands and simply cried. I don't know how long. Finally my mind cleared, and I started the long drive home.
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