The Nonconformist

by Ken Cohen

Chapter 13

Leaving

The summer had ended, they returned to school, grade 12. University just a couple years away. They were in love, he and Kenny. And best friends. Life moved on. Fall, another winning football season, came and went. Danny and Kenny were together as often as possible. As often as time allowed. As time passed, Danny sometimes thought how lucky he was. His life, filled with the love of a beautiful boy, was becoming almost a dream come true. His improving mood even brought a thaw to life at home.

He maybe should've known. There had been signs. But he was never good at reading omens and drawing conclusions. So it came as a surprise.

On the first Sunday in December, Kenny came to his house in the afternoon without calling first. He knew Danny would be home watching NFL football.

Kenny rang the doorbell. Barbara went to the door. "Come in, Kenny, they're in the living room watching a game."

Danny and Alex had the TV on.

Kenny walked in and began to unbutton his coat. "Hi."

"What's wrong? You're looking a little down."

"I need to talk to you, just us."

"Okay."

They walked to Danny's room and he closed the door.

"I have bad news."

Kenny's family was moving again. To Vancouver. Three thousand miles away.

He'd found out a couple days earlier. His dad is leaving right away, later today. The rest of the family will leave two days after Christmas. They won't be back.

"They're leaving the house with a realtor to sell. My dad has a new job, a big promotion at the railway. He's gonna manage their Vancouver office, their biggest in the country. Dad says it's for the best. The new job comes with a lot more responsibility and much better pay so they can send me and Manny to university. Any school we want, anywhere in the world."

Something tickled the back of Danny's mind that he couldn't put his finger on.

"How long have you known about this?"

"He just told us a couple days ago, like I said."

"But you were in Vancouver in August. And your dad was away on business so much last month."

"Yeah, well, they were just kind of talking then. They were talking about it for months. They looked at a few houses in Vancouver. It was just talk."

"What were they saying?"

"Like I said, he might have a chance at a big promotion but we'd have to move to Vancouver. They talked about how life could be if dad were making more money. Right now they barely have enough money to send me university and that's only if I got a summer job every summer. And three years from now when my brother finishes high school it will be the same problem. Dad might be able to get a better job that would pay a lot more money. There was no future for him in the job here. And they were really tired of Toronto.

"I mean, everyone thinks this is such a great city and I guess it is in some ways, but my parents, well you know, they're from Montreal, they always think it was better back then. And they have friends who moved to Vancouver and have told them how much better it is out there, what with the ocean and the mountains right there. I mean, even Montreal has a little mountain right in the city, and lots more nice ones north of the city. So they got this idea that we would move to Vancouver, dad would get a better job, and everything would be great."

Click. "So let me guess, they practically guarantee things will be wonderful and you'll live happily ever after. Right?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic."

"It's what they told me when they wanted to send me to Greece for that summer."

"Come on, Danny, it's not the same thing. Anyway, what choice do I have? They're my family."

"What about your grandparents? They're here. You could stay with them. You'll have just half a year of high school in Vancouver, so what's the use? And you have to go to university next year, there's no grade 13 in B.C., is there?"

"I don't want to live with my grandparents. I want to live with my parents and my brother. I'll handle it, don't worry. I'm sure I can finish up grade 12 in Vancouver with no problem." He knew they weren't good words as he said them.

Danny stared at him. "No problem? No problem? I thought, I thought…" He stopped for a moment, he didn't want to cry. "What do you mean, no problem? I thought I mattered to you. No problem? What about… I can't lose you. The thought of it, I can't…"

He turned away and covered his face. There were tears coming, he had to hide them.

Kenny was the only boy Danny knew who was like him. They had navigated the shoals of love together. The trust that had grown from that… now Kenny was leaving and Danny would be alone again.

He turned back to face Kenny. "I'm going to lose you. Won't I? I'm going to lose you."

Kenny stood there, at a loss for words, his mouth open. Then he found himself. "It will just be for half a year. Next year I can come back and go to university here."

"Oh. You're sure?"

"Well, it's an idea. My dad said he'll be making good money, he'll have enough to send me to any university I choose."

"An idea. But you can't promise, can you?"

"How can I promise? I can't be sure what will be six months or a year from now."

"You can't promise. Of course not. Fuck."

What will become of Kenny, he asked himself?

"You'll find new friends, another boyfriend. Won't you. For sure, you have more confidence than I do. Do you really want to go?"

"I'll miss you Danny. I'll miss you a lot."

"You didn't answer my question."

"No I don't, but I have to make the best of it. There's no choice."

"Can't you even think about staying here in Toronto to finish high school? Your grandparents are nice, can't you even think about living with them?"

"I told you, I don't want to live with my grandparents. I want to stay with my family. I don't mind the idea of moving. It's a challenge."

"Well, maybe I could come too. I'm 17, I'm old enough to leave my parents and live on my own."

It hung like a question mark in the air. A question that Kenny answered with another.

"Huh? How would you support yourself?"

Could he ask his parents to pay Ken's parents for his support while he went to school with Ken in Vancouver? His dad might have gone along with that, but he knew his mother would never, and he doubted the Dressens would either. Barbara would get so angry, she might tell him to leave and not come back.

He would have to live his life according to her plans for him. It seemed she would never accept him.

"I'm fucked, aren't I? Look, I think I want to be alone right now."

Kenny looked at him, thinking, thanks a lot for being so understanding. Does he think this is easy for me? Now he's kicking me out of his house. Make me miserable, too. Misery loves company, isn't that what they say?

"This isn't easy for me, either, you know. You think I like any of this? It's the last thing in the world I wanted. I had a big fight with my parents, I suggested my grandparents, they said no."

"It's not so bad. It's like you said. Not a problem. A challenge. You'll make the best of it. You'll find a new boyfriend out there somewhere. I know you, Kenny, if anyone can do that, it's you. Anyway, I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap or something. You want to crawl into bed with me?"

"Okay. I get the message. I'm going."

He stood and went to open the door, then turned back for a moment.

He sounded like he was pleading. "I'm sorry about all this, Danny. There's just nothing I can do. We have to make the best of it."

"Which will be exactly what?"

They looked at each other for a few seconds.

"I'm going. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He walked straight out of Danny's room to the front door, put on his coat and left.

Danny lay on his bed. That day over two years ago when Kenny asked him to walk home from school, that day was his entry point into a world he knew almost nothing about. Ken took a big risk that paid off for both of them. They didn't know much about love when they began, but they figured it out and it made all the difference in the world for both of them. They learned to smile. And found that life feels easier with someone you love. They'd had some tiffs along the way, but nothing like this.

Danny had half of grade 12 plus grade 13 left of high school in Ontario, and would have to navigate it alone. In Vancouver, Kenny would finish grade 12. High school there ended at that point, so he would go to university next year, to some school he had not yet even thought about. Maybe it would be Toronto…

They would be separated by 3,000 miles with no real hope of being reunited for a very long time, if ever. Even long distance phone calls were an obstacle—they cost too much for mere mortals. Both knew their relationship was about to end. Neither could bring himself to talk about it. But they knew in their hearts it was unlikely their feelings for each other would survive the coming years. They would have to cope with the changes that would take them from adolescence to manhood, and do that without each other.

It was a very bad day, the day Kenny left, two days after Christmas. Danny walked to the Dressen home late that frozen morning. Snow blanketed the ground. The movers had come and gone. The inside of the house which once welcomed Danny with warmth and affection was an empty ruin, the few remaining things packed in their luggage.

They went to Kenny's bedroom and closed the door. All that was left was a box spring with a bare stained mattress soon to be thrown out. They talked quietly amid a few kisses and tears. About 30 minutes before the airport taxi was to arrive, Kenny's mom needed him. So, it was time.

Holding one another at the bedroom doorway in their last moments of privacy, Danny told Kenny in a hushed, breaking voice, "I'm going to say goodbye. Your mom needs you. Maybe we'll see each other again some day. But thank you. You saved my life. You showed me there are possibilities. I love you, Kenny, and no matter what, I always will."

Kenny felt almost suspended in disbelief, as though this could not be happening: "I love you too, Danny. I always will. This isn't over, Danny, we'll figure something out."

Danny looked at him, there was nothing more to say.

They walked to the front door. Kenny's mom and brother were there.

His mom saw Danny's teary face, as he hugged Kenny for the last time and whispered to him, "I love you." Kenny tried to hide his face from his mom.

Danny had a lot of trouble letting go, but he did, then turned, walked down the steps, crying. He stopped and looked back. Kenny was watching him go, their eyes met for a moment. Danny turned away again and was gone. His tears were dry when he approached home ten minutes later.

That night was a long empty one for Danny. It took time for sleep to come.

Soon enough it was New Year's Day, 1967. He had to find ways to keep busy because thinking about Kenny was way too painful.


The night Kenny arrived in Vancouver, he wrote Danny a letter from his new home. They wrote each other once or twice a week at first. It turned into once or twice a month, then less. Danny wanted to phone as well, but his parents wouldn't let him. The long distance charges levied by the companies which held the country's phone monopoly, to cities 3,000 miles away, cost way too much. So he couldn't hear Kenny's voice.


December 28, 1966 - Dear Danny, I hate flying. Airports and jet planes are uniformly miserable experiences. Just like you described about your trip to Greece. The trip from the time we left home in Toronto, with the stop in Calgary, until we got to the house dad rented in Vancouver took over twelve hours.

Dad was at the airport to pick us up with a car his company bought him. We didn't get to the house until 9:30 at night which was after midnight Toronto time. So tired. Then we had to make all the beds and find our toothbrushes and a hundred other things before we could sleep. And hungry too, not much food. This morning we had to find a restaurant open for breakfast. Now we're unpacking and setting up the house. We'll buy groceries later. It will take time to make this place feel like home.

That John Denver song keeps running through my head. I miss you so much. I cried myself to sleep. Like when I was a little kid, went to bed crying, and when I woke in the night to pee, my eyes were crusty with dried tears.

There's no snow here. It's been cold and raining since we arrived. And dark. Sunrise around 8, getting dark by 4. Everything feels damp and cold.

One nice thing, though. Everything is still green. The rain keeps the lawns and some plants green.

We don't know anyone here so there's no one to help us with all the stuff we have to do. The schools are closed for the holiday. Dad thinks Manny and I are registered for school but we won't know for sure until the first day.

I'm trying to be brave. I feel a little scared right now. I guess this is like a new adventure.

Please write. Let me know how things are going there. Happy new year to you and your family. Love, Kenny


On Tuesday, January 4, 1967, Kenneth Dressen found himself enrolled midterm in grade 12 at Northwest Secondary School in a wealthy area of Vancouver, B.C.

It was a drastic change that transplanted him to a new city. He knew Vancouver to be on Canada's Pacific coast an hour drive north of the American border. And it had no professional sports franchise of any significance. Even the local pro hockey team was a second tier minor-league farm team.

He shivered as he, his brother Manny and his mother walked the two blocks from their house to the school to register, obtain their schedules, and begin classes. The cold damp air, the steady drizzle of the Pacific Northwest, the short dismal winter days, all permeated the inside of the school and every other building in town.

Stepping into unfamiliar halls, Ken was alone and vulnerable. He met with a guidance counsellor who spent the first hour going through his schedule and the school rules with him, giving him a short tour and a map so that he could find his way around. They walked to his first class, grade 12 English. The class was about to begin when they entered. Ken was introduced to the teacher who introduced him to the class and sent him to an empty seat near the back of the classroom. The subject was Earl Birney, a poet and novelist who grew up in British Columbia. Ken had not heard of him.

He needed to find his place. He was adrift in a little world of cliques and long established friendships. All his teachers were told in advance that he would be arriving and had his textbooks and course materials ready for him. Most of them were welcoming and did their best to help him feel at home and get started in their courses.

He came home at the end of the day. The house was a mess of unopened moving boxes in disarray. His mother was out at a job interview. His brother was home and feeling as lost as Ken. His dad wouldn't make it home until almost 9 that night.

Ken told himself, fine, this is what I have to deal with. I'll focus on one subject at a time and catch up with each class using the textbook, all the class materials from the term going back to September, my courses from Toronto and whatever help I can wrangle from each teacher. Some of the work is familiar, we covered it in Toronto. Some is not, I have to learn it. I'll work until midnight each night, sleep to 7 a.m., and go to school on schedule. I'll work at lunch. I'll go to the teachers after classes, at lunch, and at the end of the day. I have about two months until the second semester exams.

On the first weekend, he spent both days, dawn to dusk and into the night, reading, noting, summarizing, rereading. It was a stretched out, intensive catch-up session. In the course of it, he discovered that in some courses, including physics, chemistry and advanced math, he was ahead of the class. He already understood the basics of differential and integral calculus, partly just through interested self-study he'd done at home.

He wasn't perfect, but he was smart, with a good head for math and science especially. And he was ambitious. In his future he saw places to go, people to meet, things to learn, a world awaiting.

With discipline, some extra help, and a hell of a lot of work, he managed to cram everything they had done to date in that school year into the first three and a half weeks. He still had a few problems to deal with, but he felt caught up. It did help that he had covered some of the material in grade 11 or the first semester of grade 12 back in Toronto.

During the days, he introduced himself to certain students. He used his experience to judge who he might be able to trust and ally himself with. Who were the smart kids who took school seriously and might be generous with their time? Who put effort into their days and didn't appear arrogant or standoffish? He seemed to have a good head for judging people based on his past experience.

Three days after he started school, Ken was eating lunch in the school cafeteria. A girl in his class he had noticed a couple of times approached him and sat down.

"Hi, Ken. I'm Naomi. I noticed you looking at me earlier. Maybe you recognize me by now?"

"Oh, sure, hi Naomi. We have three classes together."

"So, there was something I wanted to ask you. Please don't be offended if I'm wrong. But I just had to ask. Are you by any chance Jewish?"

"Yeah, I am. Are you?"

"Oh, that's great. Yes. I mentioned to my parents last night that we had a new student from Toronto. I wasn't sure but I thought you might be Jewish. I'm just curious, why did you move here?"

"My dad has a new job here. He started back on December 1. The rest of us came during the holiday."

"I eat with the same group of kids every day, right over there. If you'd like to join us, we'd be happy to have you. There's no point you eating by yourself every day unless you want to."

"Oh, um, I really appreciate you asking. Yes, I'd love to give it a try. Just give me a minute, I'll bring my lunch right over."

"Okay."

She rejoined her friends, and Ken followed. "Guys, this is Ken, you said your last name is Dressen? His family just moved here from Toronto."

"Yeah, Ken Dressen."

They had questions for him, especially about Jewish life in Toronto. It turned out Vancouver had a pretty small Jewish community, about 7,000 people of whom about 2,000 were involved in local activities and events. After that, he ate lunch with the same group pretty well every day.

Early the following week they were talking about skiing at Whistler Mountain, a resort which had just opened for skiing a year earlier. Naomi asked Ken whether he'd ever skied.

"No, I never even thought about it before. Skiing always seemed like something only rich people do, like you see in the movies."

"It's not, I can guarantee you that. There's all kinds of cool kids involved in it. Some work at Whistler all year round, like, as waiters and stuff in the summer and ski instructors in the winter. Same in other places too. You do need some money to ski, though, it's not cheap, but not as expensive as you might think. Remember, it's something you pay for that goes a full day, you can ski from morning till night on the same lift ticket. You can get a beginner's package including a ski lesson, equipment rental and a lift ticket for the day for about $50. It's expensive, I know, but if you like it, you'll be hooked. It's my favourite winter sport."

"How much does it cost to buy the equipment?"

"I'd say around $150 for basic decent quality. You need to buy skis, bindings, boots and poles. You also need a winter coat, hat and gloves of course. Some people buy ski clothes, which are way less bulky and often warmer. A few even buy helmets. You can also rent equipment, you don't have to buy. It costs around $35 at Whistler to rent for the day."

"I guess I'll have to ask my parents."

"Is there much skiing in Ontario?"

"Actually, there is, in the winter you hear radio reports about ski conditions at different resorts in Ontario, but there's no way the mountains there are nearly what they are here. They're mostly just big hills there. One kid I knew at school skis at Blue Mountain in a town near Georgian Bay, which he says is the best ski resort in the province. I doubt it's anything like the Rockies, though."

"So, why don't you talk to your parents? We're going this weekend to Whistler. There are seven of us in two cars right now so you'd be number eight, we split the cost of gas. We went last winter when Whistler opened, and we were there a couple days during the Christmas break."

"Okay, look, I'll ask my parents about it. Thanks, I really appreciate you asking me."

"No problem."

February 12, 1967 - Dear Danny, I met a girl here, her name is Naomi, she's in my class. I think she's one of the smartest kids if not the smartest in grade 12 here. She and some other kids invited me to eat with them at lunch, so at least I'm not alone all day, I have someone to talk to. One possible problem is that I think Naomi really likes me, she's kind of flirtatious at times. I hope she figures out I'm not interested. I don't know how to let her down gently, she's really sweet and I don't want her feelings to be hurt. So I might have to talk to her privately.

She and one of her friends, a girl named Veronica who everyone calls Ronnie, helped me get caught up on all the work we hadn't covered in Toronto. So I'm doing okay school-wise although some things take getting used to.

A couple guys in my class have started talking to me as well. So they might turn out to be friends, I'll have to wait and see.

Some of the kids here seem to be snobs from families with too much money, there are some cliques in the school, but like I said, not everyone's like that. I guess it's not that much different from Toronto.

The days are getting a little longer here at least, and believe it or not the lawns stay green all winter, since temperatures are above freezing much of the time. Also, there are flowers coming out already, crocuses. But it still rains almost every day.

I've been going with Naomi and some of her friends up to Whistler Mountain. They've all been skiing since they were kids. I've taken lessons, so now I can ski, I learned how to parallel, I'm getting better and really liking it. My parents are happy to pay for it. I told Manny that once I learn, I'll see if I can get him involved too if he's interested.

I hope everything there is okay. Take care of yourself. Love you - Ken

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