My Debate Partner

by Joel Young

Chapter 15

The Highest High And The Lowest Low

Not only are incredibly wonderful life experiences few and far between, but they also don't last. I learned this on the last day of the first semester of my junior year of High school. After winning the State debate competition and having incredible sex with my debate partner, David McAndrew, I was on top of the world. By the afternoon of the next day, my joy was completely gone.

Mrs. Weber had told us we could skip the first two hours of the school day, but she wanted us there for the Christmas Concert in the gym during third hour. I took her up on her offer and slept in later than usual. David had left to go home at about 2:30 in the morning, and I was exhausted. I slept until about 9:00. The sleep, a long hot shower, and a healthy breakfast had me feeling great again.

When I arrived at school ten minutes before 3rd hour, no one knew about our win at State. Mrs. Weber deliberately had kept it a secret until she could announce it during the assembly. As members of the choir, Jim and Sara were already in their robes, on the risers, rehearsing. I found David, and we sat together on the rolled-out bleachers in the gym.

David seemed different - quiet and withdrawn. I decided he hadn't had enough sleep, and I let it go. He kept looking at me, though, with a strange look. When he finally said, "I want you to know that I will always love you," I was relieved. I was beginning to think that something was wrong.

The entire school was assembled in the gym, and the concert began. The music was beautiful and uplifting. I have always loved music and Christmas, and I enjoyed the program. Halfway through the program, the Principal spoke to the student body.

"Yesterday," he said, "As many of you know, our school participated in the State debate Finals held in the State Capital. We have a great debate team this year. They worked hard and took first place in both the district and regional competitions. And, here to introduce the members of the team is Mrs. Susan Weber."

"Thank you, Mr. Joseph," Mrs. Weber said as she spoke into the microphone. "It has been a true honor for me to coach this special group of students on your varsity debate team this year. They are the hardest working group of students I have ever had the pleasure to work with, and they are some of the most gifted debaters I've known as well. I'd like to have them come forward as I call their names, and I'd like you all to hold your applause for just a moment. First, I'd like Sophomore David Charles McAndrew to come forward."

David descended the bleachers and walked forward. He stood in front of the choir facing the student body. He looked very handsome!

"Next," Mrs. Weber continued, "Junior, Sara Marie Hinman."

Sara climbed down from the risers, squeezing in between members of the choir. She stood next to David.

"Next," Mrs. Weber said, "Junior, James Christopher Roberts."

Jim came down and stood next to Sara. He took her hand.

"And finally," Mrs. Weber said, "Joel Allan Young."

I took my place next to David. The crowd was quiet.

"Well, I suppose you'd like to know how your school faired at the State Finals yesterday," Mrs. Weber said. "So, I won't keep you in suspense much longer. There were 32 schools competing in the State tournament. Your school was among the eight quarter-finalists. Then, your school was one of only 4 schools in the entire State to make it into the semifinals. And, your school made it into THE finals where only two schools faced off for the title of State Champions."

The excitement in the room was reaching a feverish pitch. Some people were beginning to clap; others were hushing them so they could hear what Mrs. Weber was going to say next. I have to give her credit; she knew how to get people's attention.

"Well," she continued. "Your school faced some very stiff competition in that final round. They had to debate last year's State Champions, Lansing Kettering. Now, you know that winning isn't everything. Just getting that far in a State competition is more than most teams will ever achieve. And I'm here to tell you that your team did a fine job......... And I suppose that's why the judges named Joliet High school THE NUMBER ONE DEBATE TEAM IN THE ENTIRE STATE OF MICHIGAN!!!" Mrs. Weber reached into the podium and retrieved the large trophy, and she held it up high. "YES, THEY WON IT ALL FOR YOU! JOLIET WON THE STATE CHAMPIONSHIP! LET'S HEAR IT FOR YOUR NEW STATE CHAMPIONS!!!!!"

The entire student body went crazy. They were on their feet, screaming, yelling, applauding, and whistling. Someone started chanting, "We're Number One! We're Number One!" The crowd picked it up. I watched in amazement as we were worshiped by our peers. I couldn't help but notice that some of the same students, mostly Jocks, who had called us geeks and looked at us with disdain, were chanting just as loudly as everyone else. It was the high of a lifetime. Lead by David, the four of us held hands and bowed together.

I don't remember many details after that. We were lead out of the gym by Mrs. Weber with the students still clapping loudly. Jim and Sara slipped back in through another door to join the Choir for the rest of the program.

Mrs. Weber put her arm around my shoulder. "Let's go to my classroom," she said. There was something funny about her tone. I couldn't believe she was going to give me the ass chewing that she had promised, not now of all times. I let myself be lead down the school corridor. David was right behind us.

When we got to room 103, Mrs. Weber asked when I was leaving for Acapulco. I told her I had to leave right after the concert. We would be leaving for the airport almost as soon as I got home. "Why?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "So, you have just a few minutes, right?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"Well, then, that leaves us no choice but to tell you now," she said. "Joel, I'm very sorry for how the timing of this had to work out. But some day, you'll realize that there wasn't a good time."

"What's going on here?" I asked. I looked at David. He looked very disturbed.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said.

"Sorry for what?" I demanded to know. "You gonna break up with me?" I meant it as a joke.

I couldn't believe his answer to my question. "Not because I want to," he said.

"Joel," Mrs. Weber said. "David has some bad news. He just found out last week. He came to me, and he asked me what to do. There was no good way to handle this, but I asked him to hold off telling you until after the State championships."

"Tell me WHAT," I screamed.

And then David told me the news that broke my heart. His father had accepted a position at the University of Southern California. The job started in January. They were moving three days before the New Year. He'd be gone before I was back from Mexico.

David started crying softly. "I didn't know how to tell you. I thought it would mess you up for State. I didn't tell you because I wanted us to win, so you'd have that forever." He was crying openly now. "I had to ask Mrs. Weber to help me. I couldn't tell you alone," he sobbed.

Mrs. Weber said, "I'll be back later," and she left the room, closing the door behind her.

I suppose if I had comprehended the full impact of what had just happened, I would have passed out. Instead, I was in shock. I didn't move or say anything.

David came over and embraced me. As I felt his arms around me, I began to feel the pain. I cried in his arms. We held each other tightly, in utter despair. We only had minutes before we'd be separated, living thousands of miles away from each other.

I don't remember much more. I know David told me he'd always love me. I remember the look on his face as he left me alone in the room. And I remember the pain, the awful, lonely emptiness I felt throughout my being.

I don't remember Mrs. Weber coming back into the room. I remember she drove me home. I know I somehow got on the plane. And I know it was seventeen years until I saw David again.

Epilogue – A Chance Meeting

Seventeen years later, I was at the airport in Chicago. It was two days before Christmas, and the airport was packed. The weather was not good, and while planes were still landing and taking off, there were many delays. I was waiting in the terminal having been told my flight out was delayed for thirty minutes. I had managed to find a place to sit earlier, but now, there was standing room only. Whole families were sitting on the floor, and the terminal was teaming with people.

I had been away on business for five days, and I was tired. I wanted to be home. I needed to unwind and relax, but I knew the holidays were going to be very difficult for me this year. I was looking forward to seeing my kids, but I dreaded the next few days with my wife. Val was leaving me and moving back to Ohio right after Christmas.

Val and I had been married for ten years. Our oldest boy, Joshua, was six and our youngest, Steven, was only ten months. Valerie and I had met in my last year of graduate school. She was college Senior and a student in one of the Statistics classes I taught at the University. I can't say she was the best student of Statistics I ever had, but she was strikingly mature beyond her years. And, she was fun loving and beautiful as well. She drew me out of my shell, and we became best friends. And when my parents were killed in a car accident that year, she stayed by my side through the entire, horrible ordeal. The death of my parents devastated me, and I was so grief-stricken that I became nonfunctional for weeks. Val comforted me, protected me and loved me. We were married two months after we both graduated the next year.

After college, I took a position with a management consulting firm based in Atlanta. I liked the work, but it required extensive travel for weeks at a time. The stress of constantly keeping clients happy and being away from my family took their toll on me - and my marriage. Val became depressed. She hated Atlanta, missed her family in Ohio, and she became isolated. And at the same time, she developed health problems. The medications she took gave her insomnia, and that had added to her depression. It seemed to me that no matter what I did, she found fault. And, no matter how hard I tried, I could not please her. And I know to her, it seemed that I was always preoccupied with work and not involved enough in the family. She had told me before I left on business this time, that our marriage was over and she was moving back to Ohio, with the kids.

And now, tired of living in hotels and meeting with clients day after day, I desperately wanted to go someplace that felt like home. For me, home had always been Michigan, but since my parent's death, there was no home or family there for me. Home was supposed to be Atlanta, but my home there was breaking up. I was feeling sorry for myself, and I was tired of it. I forced myself not to think.

I struck up a conversation with the lady sitting next to me in the terminal. She was a grandmother, traveling to visit her daughter's family in Atlanta for the holidays. She seemed like a lovely person. I caught myself wishing I was part of her family. After chatting for some time, I began reading while she sat quietly.

"Excuse me for interrupting your reading," she said about ten minutes later. "And this may sound strange, but there is a man over there staring at you."

I looked around the crowded terminal, and I couldn't identify anyone who seemed to be staring at me. "Where?" I asked.

"The man leaning against the wall. About ten rows up. "

I looked in the direction she indicated, and sure enough, a man was looking me square in the eyes. It didn't seem strange at first, but when he didn't look away, a feeling of nervousness crept into my awareness. He just kept staring at me. It took me several moments to decide that there was something familiar about him. I couldn't see the details of his face that well, but I could tell he was a handsome man about my age. He wore a black wool overcoat under which I could tell he was wearing a suit and tie. He had dark, blondish hair which was cut short, and he wore glasses.

I couldn't take my eyes off this man, and I found myself staring back at him. And when I finally began to realize that it was David, I began to shake, and I felt sick. There in front of me - staring back at me - was the man I had loved so deeply and so strongly, so many years before.

The pain from losing David seventeen years ago surfaced from the depths of my soul, and it mixed with the raw emotions of my break up with Val and being separated from my kids. The sick feeling started in my stomach, and it spread slowly both up toward my face and down to my legs at the same time. I couldn't move. I was immobilized by the emotions raging within me.

For several full minutes, neither one of us moved to approach the other. We just stared at each other. Finally, I could take no more, and I forced myself to rise and go speak to him. He walked toward me as well. The closer I got to him, the more I became aware of how he had changed. He was no longer a boy. He was still trim, but he had filled out. He was clean-shaven, but his beard was heavy. His hair was darker, and his skin was more tanned. His face was older and more mature, but it was still the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

He smiled nervously and said, "Let's take a walk."

I didn't know what to say. Apparently, David didn't either. We walked away from the terminal in silence. Finally, he said, "Do you have time for some coffee?" His voice was hesitant, and I remembered the only other time I had seen him without his ever-present confidence. Back then, when he'd been personally attacked during a debate, he had allowed me to comfort him.

"Yeah, but my plane is supposed to board in just a few minutes," I said. We walked to the concession just outside the terminal, and David ordered two cups of coffee. There was no place to sit, so we stood.

"You look great," David said to me. "Not very happy, though. Are you all right?"

"I'm going through some rough times, and seeing you, well ... ah, I guess it's just shaken me up a bit," I said.

"You always did wear your feelings on your shirt sleeve," he said.

There was a long, awkward pause, while we fumbled for something to say.

"You ever see Jim or Sara?" David asked.

I told him that Jim and Sara had married while they were in college. I was the best man at their wedding. After college, they opened a travel agency out East. They had eventually divorced, and Sara was running the business by herself now. I told him I had lost track of Jim years ago.

I heard the announcement that the plane for Atlanta was boarding. David saw me react, and he asked, "Is that you?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," I said. "Looks like this time, I'll be walking away from you."

I regretted having said that as soon as I spoke. I hadn't consciously intended to be sarcastic. David seemed surprised at my comment, but he didn't say anything.

Then, he reached in his pocket and pulled a business card from his wallet. "If you ever need to reach me, here's my address and number."

I took the card and read it. He was the Director of Public Relations employed by a major entertainment company in Los Angeles.

I couldn't hold back my emotions, and a tear ran down my face, making a burning line to my jaw.

"You know something, David," I said. "There was a time when I prayed that you'd give me your address. I prayed to God that you'd write to me, or call me. But after you left, you never did. You moved away, and you just wrote me off. Why? Why'd you do that to me?" It was the question that had haunted me for seventeen years. And I'd finally asked it.

David looked nervously down at the ground, avoiding looking me in the eyes. He took a deep breath, and said, "Joel, there are some things better left unsaid."

I heard my boarding call again. I had to go.

"Okay, David. If that's all you have to say to me – then fine." I handed him back his card, turned away, and I walked back to the terminal.

And when I got back to Atlanta, Val had practically all of her things and those of the kids packed up and ready to go. There was a For Sale sign on the house. Somehow, I pretended to myself that my whole world wasn't crumbling down around me.

That same night, after everyone had gone to bed, I finally got to spend a little quiet time by myself in my den. I reached for one of my old family albums from the shelf and looked for my favorite photograph of my parents and me. Running into David at the airport after seventeen years had been very upsetting, but it had stirred up memories of happier times when my parents were still alive and David and I were together.

I stared at the picture for hours, as I relived everything that had happened back then. When I finally put the album away, it was a few minutes past 2:00 in the morning.

Without thinking, I picked up the phone, and I called information. I asked for the area code for Los Angeles, California. Then, I called L.A. information. The Operator answered, and I asked for a listing for David McAndrew.

"There are 12 David McAndrew's listed," she said. "Do you have a middle name or street address?"

"Charles," I answered. "His middle name is Charles."

"I have one David C. McAndrew," she said. "Would you like that number?"

She gave me the number. But, by then, I had decided not to call.

My fingers, however, wouldn't obey. It was like they were possessed. It was like I had no conscious control over what I was doing. I watched my fingers push the buttons on the phone as my mind was telling them to stop. I could hear myself saying, "Don't do this, Joel. Put down the phone."

But then, I heard the line ringing. On the third ring, I heard the phone being lifted off the receiver. I told myself to hang up. I tried to force myself to hang up. But I had no control. What was I doing? What was I going to say?

"Hello?" It was David.

"David?" I heard myself ask.

"Yes, this is David. Who's this?"

"David, this is Joel."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Finally, he asked, "How'd you get my number?"

"You're in the book, Einstein," I said.

"Joel, I didn't mean anything by that. You just surprised me - that's all. But I'm glad you called."

"David, I have a question for you. Would you please tell me what the fuck you meant by - there are some things better left unsaid?"

He didn't respond.

I continued. "Because I think that's a lousy thing to say to me after the way you left me. I think you owe a better answer than that."

"Joel, I am truly sorry," David said. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just a long story, and it was difficult to talk in the airport. And your question caught me off guard." He sounded sincere.

"David, I need to know. Why didn't you ever contact me?"

He paused for a long time. Then, he said, "You won't like the answer."

"Yeah, well, there's not much going on right now that I do like," I said. "So you might as well just tell me."

Never in my wildest imagination would I have guessed what he said next. "Your father threatened to break both my legs if I ever tried to see you again."

I was speechless. At first, I couldn't believe that David was telling me the truth. I actually thought that he was lying to me. My father had never said a word to me about David. He had never given me any reason to think he even suspected I had a romantic relationship with David. Never, not once, had I even considered that my dad might have known about us. I said nothing, and David continued.

"Remember that week I spent at your house before Regionals? When my dad was interviewing in California at the University?"

I remembered, but I hadn't known at the time that his Dad was interviewing for a job.

"Well," David said, "one night your Dad was outside in the backyard, and you and I were watching TV in the family room. He saw us through the window when I kissed you. A week or so later, after my parents got home, he came over to see me. By then, I knew we were moving, but I hadn't told you. Your Dad said that he and your mom had plans for your future and that their plans didn't include "a pretty boy faggot" like me. He told me that after the State Championship, I could never, ever see you again. He said that he was going to put you in private school as soon as you got back from Mexico."

It was starting to make sense. I remembered that my parents had mentioned something about private school, but they had dropped the subject when I insisted that I wanted to graduate from Joliet. And that discussion was just before State. Obviously, like everyone else, they hadn't wanted to upset me before the State competition.

And another thing was starting to make sense, too. When we were in Mexico, I had tried to pretend to have a good time, but I wasn't very successful. I was visibly despondent. Neither one of my parents had ever asked me what was wrong. They must have known that David had told me he was moving to California. They knew why I was depressed, but they hadn't wanted to talk about it.

David continued. "Well, when I told your Dad that I was moving to California, he was relieved. But he made me promise never to contact you again after I left. He said if I did, he'd personally break both my legs. He even said that since he was a Physical Therapist, he knew how to do it, so I'd never walk again."

By the time David had finished, I knew he was telling the truth, and I was crying. It was a shock for me to find out that my parents knew about David and me. And I started to feel ashamed that I had caused my dad so much grief that he had threatened violence against David.

"I'm sorry he did that to you, David. I never knew," I said.

"I know, babe," he said. "It's okay. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."

"David," I said. "Both my parents are dead now."

"I know," he said.

I was stunned again. "How did you know that?" I asked.

"Oh, Joel. This is tough, Man," David said.

"David, we've got to be completely honest with each other," I said. "No more secrets. No more holding back. Just tell me."

He sighed before answering my question. "About ten years ago, my cousin in Detroit died, and I went to the funeral. Since I was in the area, I stopped at the High school. Mrs. Weber was still there, and we talked. She told me about your parents. And she told me you were getting married.

She even showed me the wedding invitation that you had sent her."

"You know about Val and me?" I asked.

"Valerie Renee Olson. I'll never forget the name on that invitation. And I know you have two kids from the biography on your company's web site," he said.

I was speechless again. All these years, I thought David had written me off. I thought he didn't care. I thought he'd forgotten about me. And instead, he knew everything - about my parents, my marriage, my kids, even where I worked and what I did.

"Did you know Val is leaving me?" I asked.

David was silent. Neither one of us said anything for a long time.

"What do you mean, leaving you?" he finally asked.

"Well, she's divorcing me and taking the kids back to her parent's house in Ohio. She's leaving the day after Christmas. The marriage is over, the house if for sale, and I'm having about the worst Christmas I've had in seventeen years."

"Joel, I'm so sorry," David said. "I had no idea that was going on. That's what you meant in the airport about having a rough time?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant. And I have to admit it's been a little disconcerting running into you and learning that my parents knew about us and that my dad threatened you with bodily harm. God, that's incredible. I don't know what to think."

"Think you'd like to come to visit me in California?" he asked.

Surprisingly, I answered immediately. "David, I'm in a really bad place right now. My whole life is crumbling down around me. I've got nobody. My parents are dead. My wife is leaving me. And she's taking my kids to another state. And I'm really needy right now. I can't risk being hurt. I couldn't take it. If I came to see you, I'd.....I'd..." I couldn't finish my sentence. I broke down again, crying.

"You'd what? Need me to love you?" David asked.

All of a sudden, the floodgates of my emotions broke wide open. And I sobbed openly. But, I managed to tell David the truth. "Yes," I sobbed. "I'd need you to love me. I've missed you so much."

"Joel," David said. "I want to you to fly out here tomorrow. Or yet today! I love you, Joel. I have always loved you. And, I want you back." David was crying, too. "I've wanted you back for seventeen years. Will you take me back? Please, Joel!"

I flew out from Atlanta to L.A. the day after Christmas, two hours after Val and the kids left for Ohio. And David and I have been together ever since.

The End

Postscript – Looking Forward

Love Poem to David
By Joel Young

You hear me say, "I love you." I tell you every day.
But do you truly know the depth of what my words convey?
Love may be just a feeling - or a word that people say.
But my love for you consumes me, and it takes my breath away.

Before I ever met you, I did not comprehend
How one man could love another as more than just a friend.
I'd deny the truth within me. I'd hide, and I'd pretend
That the emptiness I felt inside was a condition that would mend.

I had learned the prohibitions. And I'd taught myself to lie.
But when, alone, I'd face the truth, I'd just break down and cry.
I'd been told such love was sinful. I'd heard I'd go to Hell
For simply having feelings that I could not dispel.

Then, you appeared from nowhere. And when you looked at me,
We connected soul to soul, and you set my spirit free.
Although I didn't know you, there was much that I could see.
I knew I'd never be the same, and our love was meant to be.

As we learned about each other, we began to understand
That we seemed to fit together, as a glove fits on a hand.
Where I was weak, you were strong. Yet our symmetry was grand!
We couldn't be a better match if it had all been planned.

And your touches flood my soul. They arouse my passions, too.
And I tremble with excitement and the lust I feel with you.
I crave your manly beauty, and I hunger through and through
To bring you joy and pleasure with all I say and do.

So when I say "I love you," it's not just a simple phrase.
It means you've touched my soul in so many special ways.
I am devoted to you, and I will spend my days
Caring, helping, listening, and loving you always.

I cannot tell the future; it's seldom as it seems.
Our human plans for things to come are mostly only dreams.
But, my love for you'll continue. I need not go away.
For I asked if I could love you, and God answered that I may.

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