Finding Tim

A Fourth Alternate Reality

by Charlie
With editorial assistance from Dix and John

Ends

The title of this episode should be Loose Ends. But when this story was started I got the great idea of giving every episode a one word title. It was a cute idea in the beginning, but it has caused problems in some of the episodes, with the title not being very meaningful. But now, regardless of the title, I will try to tie up a few loose ends.

In looking back over the story, one episode bothered me, well, at least one, number 71-Around, or, as it should've been titled if I hadn't been so enamored with one word titles, Around the World. On that trip Tim and I met some very interesting people, and in several cases we talked about seeing those people again at some future time. Yet, my readers have never heard from any of them again. You could legitimately ask if Tim or I had ever heard from John, our guide in Cairo, or Jin the Singaporean gymnast, or Lee and Ab the gay couple from San Francisco whom we met in Hawaii. We'd invited all of them to keep in touch and visit us in the United States, but I haven't followed up. Well, here goes.

We've been in touch with all of them at least once or twice. None ever rose to the level of joining the Gang, so they kind of dropped out of the story. But I'll finish the stories I started.

There isn't much to tell about Lee and Ab. Remember, this was before the days of email and very cheap long distance telephones. So keeping in touch meant writing letters and sending Christmas cards. We did for a while. Tim and I were never tempted to head for San Francisco and sample the sex scene out there with Lee and Ab, though we were invited to.

Lee and Ab did take a driving tour around the United States in the summer of 1976-at least to the best of my memory it was 1976. They came by Grand Forks at the end of the summer, as they were heading home. They were our guests for a night at our house. We all slept together in the big bed, enjoyed the shower, had a lovely breakfast, and then went out of each other's lives, except for a thank you note, a couple of exchanges of letters, Christmas cards for a few years, and then...nothing. It was a not unusual ending for a casual acquaintance that had little basis other than a random encounter on the beach. As I said to Tim, "You simply can't keep in touch with the hundreds of people that you meet as you go through life. In no way does that suggest that the people you lose track of are unimportant, they simply don't happen to play an important role in YOUR life."

John was a different story. We heard from him, as we expected, in the fall after we returned home. He'd guided us in Cairo, but had asked that our payment be held until he could provide an address in Beirut to send it to. We exchanged a couple of letters over the next year, but the money wasn't mentioned. In the fall of 1974 we got a letter from him, explaining that he was attending the American University of Beirut, and could sure use the money. He provided a student mail box at the university, to which we sent $300 right away (double what we'd indicated in Cairo, but we were delighted to help John in his studies).

Tim, John and I kept in touch through his four years of study at the American University of Beirut. We sent him the same $300 each semester, and each time received a very gracious thank you. We were never sure just how important our little $300 checks were, and John seemed able to continue at the university, so we knew he wasn't lacking in other sources of funds. We got a graduation announcement, with a note that John hoped to continue his studies in Canada in the fall. We heard nothing after that for several years. We had no idea where he was, and didn't have a good address at which to write to him.

One day in the early 1980s Tim's secretary told him that he had a long distance call from a "John from Cairo." Tim took the call immediately.

"John, how are you? I guess the question should be, where are you? We haven't heard from you in years."

"It's a long story. I'm calling from Newfoundland. I've been teaching in a little school here for two years now."

"Newfoundland. How did you get there?"

"It was all a package deal. I emigrated to Canada under a program that sent me to Memorial University of Newfoundland for two years to get a Teacher Training Certificate. My tuition was paid if I promised to work in rural Newfoundland schools for four years after I graduated."

"So where are you teaching?"

"In the little town of Hermitage, on a peninsula on the south coast of Newfoundland. The school is John Watkins Academy. Kindergarten through high school. We have about 25 high school students."

"That's quite a change from Cairo or Beirut."

"It's quite a change from St. John's, Newfoundland, too. But I'm having fun. I have two more years, but I may stay longer."

"John, you amaze me. But tell me, why are you calling? And why now, after we haven't heard from you for years?"

"No excuses on not keeping in touch. Life has been busy. I should've done better. You know, your checks were really important for me in Beirut. There were a couple of times when I wouldn't haven't had much to eat if your check hadn't come. But there's a reason that I'm calling now."

"What's that, John?"

"I have a student here, Stefan Garland. He's gay, and he's just been outed. This isn't a community in which to be gay and out. Very macho fishermen and workers in the fish processing plant. Stefan's family is supporting him, but they're at their wits end. He simply isn't safe at school. He's been badly beaten twice, and he refuses to go back, and his parents support him. The administration and teachers are pretty worthless. They're about equally divided into three camps: those who think he should've stayed in the closet, those that think he deserves what he gets, and supporters who are generally afraid to speak up. To be honest, I can't speak too loudly, but I've had some long conversations with Stefan and his family. We all agree we need to get him out of town, but this is a fishing family that has very few contacts outside of the very local area."

Tim interrupted, "And you thought of all the gay friends that you have in this world, and you thought of me, and also Charlie, I hope."

"Tim, I don't have a lot of gay friends. I've never really come out, though a few of my close friends in Beirut and St. John's knew. A couple were gay, but no romance ever ignited. As you can guess, here in Hermitage I stay in the closet. If I don't stay in Hermitage after my four year commitment, that'll be the reason."

"What grade is Stefan in, and how good a student is he?"

"He's in his third high school year; one to go. He's a good student here, but probably just above average at a good high school in St. John's."

"No problems other than the obvious one he's facing now?"

"No. A good kid. I teach him math and science. I like him. I didn't know he was gay until the shit hit the fan."

"Boy, John, your English idioms are good."

"I might've learned that from you and Charlie in Cairo."

"I don't think so. You were such a good guide, no shit ever hit the fan during our visit there. Back to Stefan. What do you know about the legal formalities involved for him to come to the United States? I'm unfamiliar with all that."

"He's native Canadian. I think he can just show up at the border and go in. But he can't work in the U.S. and his parents could supply only a very minimal amount of financial support."

"Money wouldn't be the problem. Look, John, your immediate problem is a scared and threatened kid who's afraid to leave his house. Making plans in that environment is going to be very difficult. Let's get him out of there. I don't know my Newfoundland geography. What's your nearest international airport, St. John's?"

"No, Gander. It's quite a bit closer."

"Where in the U.S. can you fly from Gander?"

"I would think Boston. Maybe a few other places. Probably New York."

"How about Washington?"

"I'll have to check. Why Washington?"

"We know people in Washington that could meet Stefan. I don't have good contacts for this kind of thing in either Boston or New York."

Well, both John and Tim checked and found that Gander was no longer a stopover for any transatlantic flights heading to the U.S. There was no direct scheduled service from Gander to the United States. From St. John's, there was direct service to Boston, but that was it. John and Tim conferred about an hour later. Stefan had never flown, had never been out of Newfoundland, and had only been to St. John's once in his life. Flying and changing planes by himself was simply not in the cards, even with the airlines treating him as an unaccompanied minor. They figured out two different possible plans. John could fly with Stefan from Gander to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then put him on a direct, but not nonstop flight to Washington. Or John could drive him to St. John's and put him on a plane to Boston. John figured the time involved, and discovered that the round trip flight to Halifax wouldn't take him much longer than a round trip drive to St. John's. They worked out the details, and it was all set that Stefan would fly from Halifax to Washington the next day, arriving in Washington about five in the evening. Tim immediately went to the airport and purchased the tickets for delivery to John and Stefan in Gander.

Then Tim got on the phone and tracked down Warren Cranston, Alice Longworth's old major domo. He told him about Stefan and asked if he could meet him at the airport, put him up for the night, and put him on a plane the next day for Minneapolis.

Good old Warren. "Listen, Tim, the kid'll need a break. Let him stay two nights with me. I'll show him around the big city of Washington, but give him time to rest as well. Then the next day I'll ship him out to Minneapolis."

"Great, Warren. I really appreciate it."

The Reasals, Mike's parents, met Stefan in Minneapolis, took him to lunch, and put him on a late afternoon plane to Grand Forks. There he was met by Tim and me, and we brought him back to Dakota House for dinner. We had thought about taking him to Jerry's, but decided that a home setting was what he needed. Dinner was in the den, not the massive dining room.

Stefan was almost in a state of shock: he'd traveled more in the last few days that in the whole rest of his life, but much more importantly he'd experienced incredible love and support from strangers, just after a whole lot of people that he'd considered his friends had abandoned him, or worse, attacked him. And now he found himself eating dinner with Tim and Charlie, a famous gay couple that he'd read about in sports magazines as he'd tried to come to terms with his homosexuality. Just the idea that he was now a guest in our home was beyond his wildest imagination. Yet, here he was, and I was talking to him about the next couple of days.

"Look, Stefan, you still have some bruises from incidents that I guess were at school. We want a doctor of look you over. We also want you to meet a few people here in Grand Forks that we think may be helpful to you as you sort out your life. But most of all, we want you to rest for a few days. We know, and you know, that you're going to have to make a lot of decisions about your future. You're in a foreign country, away from your parents for the first time, separated from your school and schoolmates-all that's tough. Figuring out where you go from here is going to be tough. We all know that. But for the next few days, don't think about it. Just put it in the category of things you'll deal with tomorrow. That isn't always the best way to deal with problems, but right now it's what you need to do. We'll bring you down earth to tackle the tough problems in a few days."

We got Jerry and Judy to be Stefan's guides for the next three days, warning them to take it slow and easy, giving Stefan a chance to relax and get used to very new and different surroundings. They visited Red River and Central High Schools, walked around the UND campus, drove along the Red River and visited East Grand Forks, Minnesota. When they crossed the bridge Stefan commented: "This has been quite a trip. It started by my flying to Halifax, Nova Scotia, the first Canadian province I've ever been to outside of Newfoundland and Labrador. Now I've been in five states and the District of Columbia."

"What five states?"

"Massachusetts (my plane stopped in Boston), Virginia (where the Washington Airport is), Minneapolis, North Dakota, and Minnesota."

Judy smiled and said, "I'm sorry, Stefan, but you only have four states. Minneapolis is the city, and it's in Minnesota-the state we just entered when we crossed the bridge."

"Oh, well. Only four. I've dreamed of visiting all of the Canadian provinces, now I can dream of visiting all of the American states. I have four out of fifty."

Jerry, who was driving, spoke up, "You know, we're in an area of pretty big states; it isn't easy to add states to your list from Grand Forks. The closest would be South Dakota, and I think that would be about 150 miles. Someday you'll make that trip."

Despite the fact that he couldn't add any more new states, Stefan was fascinated by everything he saw. Growing up in a small Newfoundland fishing village hadn't really prepared him for cities like Grand Forks, not to mention Washington and Minneapolis. However, he seemed to absorb the changes very well.

The fourth morning at breakfast Tim told him, "OK, Stefan, today's the day we need to start thinking about your future. We need to decide where you're going to live, where you're going to go to school, when and how you're going to see your parents next-just little minor things that're going to shape the rest of your life. Think you're ready to start thinking about things like that?"

"I don't have much choice, do I, Tim?" We'd gotten over the Mr. Charlie and Mr. Tim business on the first day, and Stefan was beginning to feel comfortable using the names Tim and Charlie.

I said, "No, Stefan, you don't. We could put if off a day or so, but you're going to have to face some major changes in your life fairly soon."

"OK, what choices do I have? I really don't know. If I go back to Hermitage, life is going to be miserable. I had no idea when I told my best friend in Hermitage that I was homosexual that he would tell anybody. I thought I could trust him. Gee, was I fooled."

"That's behind you, now. And it wasn't your fault. Boys ought to be able to trust their best friends. Yours betrayed your trust. But you can't go back. We have to go forward."

"But where?"

Tim said, "Let me ask you some questions. Tell me about your parents. I guess you get along pretty well with them. John tells us that they supported you through all of this."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that they approve of my being homosexual. They think that I made a mistake and that I can just change my mind and like girls again."

"Can you?"

"I don't think so. I've known I liked boys since I was pretty little."

"I don't think so either. Let's just assume that you have to live some place where being homosexual isn't going to get you beaten up. We can't promise you a place where everyone will approve, but we can find a place where you won't be attacked for being homosexual. And, let's start using the word gay; I like it better."

"So do I. But what makes you think you can find a safe place for me? How can you find any place for me? We just met; we're almost strangers."

"Stefan, you've met a lot of people in the last couple of days. Most of them are very close friends of ours. All of them are willing to help you find a place in the world where you'll be happy. Tell me more about how you get along with your parents."

"I love my mom and dad, but we aren't alike. Dad left school to start fishing when he was 14; he can barely read. Mom finished high school, but that didn't mean much back then. I really like school. I dream of going to university. My parents and I really aren't on the same wave length. It would've been a blow to them if I'd found a way to go off to St. John's for university in two years. And I don't know if I could've made that happen, because they wouldn't, and really couldn't, support my going to university."

Tim replied, "OK, that answers a lot of questions. First, we need to get you in a college preparatory high school program. Second, it doesn't appear that it's important that it be near Newfoundland and your parents. Seeing them once or twice a year is going to be OK. Am I right?"

"Yes, I think so."

"OK, let's face the big question. You're a Canadian. Do you want to live in Canada or the United States? Do you want to go to university in the United States or Canada? Right now, would you like to go to high school in the United States or Canada? All this assumes that it would be possible."

"That's a tough question. After the difficulties I just had in Newfoundland, why would I want to stay in Canada? But I know that could've happened in the United States as well. I guess that I would love to travel in the United States-I'd really like to visit all fifty states, but I think that I'd really like to continue to be a Canadian, going to school in Canada."

"I think we could make that happen, but not in Newfoundland-we have no contacts in Newfoundland. I'm pretty sure that your being gay wouldn't be a big problem in St. John's, but we have no contacts there. Would you like to live in Manitoba? That's straight north from here. We might be able to work something out there."

"I'd just assumed that I'd be living somewhere here in Grand Forks, or somewhere in the U.S. It never occurred to me that something could be worked out in Canada. I think I'd like that."

"Stefan, I can't make any promises right now. I'm just trying to sort out what you would like. It's going to take you a little while to get your mind around having choices; ever since you were outed you've felt like you had exactly zero decent choices. Yes, we can arrange for you to live to Grand Forks, go to high school here, and get into an American college-the University of North Dakota, where Tim is the President, if that's what you'd like. But we want you to know that that isn't your only choice."

"How can I possibly pay my way? My parents can't. I don't have any money. It wouldn't even be legal for me to work here, I don't think."

"Your teacher, John Pastos, couldn't pay for his college either, and people helped him. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Every young man and woman should have a chance at college. Mr. Pastos, Charlie, I, and many others are glad and willing to help you. You can pay us back by helping another young person when you're older and able to. Just as Mr. Pastos is paying back those that helped him, by helping you."

"I grew up in a world that was pretty much every man for himself. I'm not used to people like you. I can't believe how lucky I am. How lucky I am that Mr. Pastos knew you, and sent me to you. My God."

Tim turned to me, "What's Stefan going to do today? We have to be over at the university."

I said, "I think he should meet Sid. They have a lot in common. Stefan should hear Sid's story. I'll bet Sid and Cathy would be glad to entertain him today."

And, indeed, they were. Sid told Stefan his story of meeting Tim, Charlie, and the others as he sold newspapers on the Mall. His uprooting from the streets of Anacostia to a home in Grand Forks had been almost as great a shock as Stefan's move from Newfoundland. However, Sid had had his mother and family with him for the move. He admitted that he wasn't sure he could've done it on his own. But Stefan had to make the best of his situation, and Sid knew that he would-and told him so.

Tim picked up Stefan at Sid's house in time to take him to dinner. We took him to the Dakota Steak House-the best place in town to get good steaks. They thought it was the right setting for the news they had for Stefan.

Tim had been on the phone during the day, talking to Art Hanson. You remember Art and his partner, Bill? Art had been Harry Jensen's high school lover. But Harry married Lida, and Art found Bill, and they headed to Winnipeg. Tim and I visited them once in Winnipeg in 1974, about eight years before. Wouldn't they like a son for a couple of years? He told them Stefan's story, and explained that they needed a place for Stefan to live and go to school. If he could work part-time in the antique store that would be great. We'd provide any funding necessary to cover Art and Bill's costs.

Well, Art said he'd talk to Bill, and the two of them did talk it over at lunch. Bill had said, "You know, Art, most gay couples don't get to be parents, even for two years. Stefan sounds like he'd be a nice fellow to have in the house. It'd be fun to be his surrogate father."

Art called Tim back in the afternoon and invited him to bring Stefan up to Winnipeg as soon as possible. He could meet them, see the town, their home, and the local high school. Then he could decide if he thought he'd like to be a foster son in that environment. He warned Tim that he'd need a consent form from Stefan's parents to make it all happen. Tim told him that Stefan's parents were supportive and would provide the necessary permission. They'd need a lawyer in Winnipeg to work out the details and prepare the necessary papers. Then they'd send the papers to John in Newfoundland to have him explain them to Stefan's parents and get them signed.

The trip to Winnipeg was the next day. Stefan was so excited that he hardly slept that night. The three of us, Tim, Stefan and me, set off early the next morning (early for Tim and anybody with him was never later than 6:00 a.m., and that's when we left). We stopped in Drayton, Manitoba about 8:00 a.m. for breakfast. We found a decent looking café and had a hearty breakfast. I was fascinated by how much Stefan could eat, and Tim and I didn't try to keep up. By 9:30 we were at Art's door and being welcomed inside. Bill was at their antique store, and Stefan was told that they'd visit the store at noon, take Bill his lunch, and sit and eat with him.

The morning was spent at Art's apartment, with Art and Stefan getting to know each other. Art quickly brought up the subject of their being gay and Stefan's being gay. Art told him, "Bill and I are in the closet, and for at least a little while we think you should be, too."

Stefan replied, "After my experience in Hermitage, I may never come out of the closet again."

Art said, "Don't say that. Bill and I are ready to come out. We have to some of our close friends. In our case, I'm not really sure what coming out implies. We aren't going to put a sign on the door, or start telling our friends, 'You know, we're gay.' We already talk about being partners-business partners, so if I introduce Bill as, "My partner, Bill" it doesn't have to mean gay. But if we don't consciously hide it, it'll slowly become clear to people, and they'll talk to each other. But we've concluded that in this day and age we have nothing to fear. But, Stefan, you don't need to say anything, and people aren't going to ask."

I asked, "Do you have room here for Stefan?"

"We do, if we give up the pretense that Bill has a separate room. He never uses it. It'll become Stefan's."

Tim said, "We aren't going to make, or allow, Stefan to make up his mind under pressure. We'll look things over today, see a lawyer this evening-Charlie's already contacted one through his connections at the university-and go back to Grand Forks. We'll give Stefan all the time he needs to make up his mind."

The visit with the lawyer was fairly simple. As long as Stefan was Canadian, and was here with his parents' permission, there'd be no problem with him living with Art and Bill. He recommended that the permission be in the name of either Art or Bill, and not both. "There isn't any point in raising an issue that isn't relevant, but could get in the way of some self-righteous bureaucrat. Nobody need know, or care, who Art lives with, or what their relationship is. But why stick it in their face?"

It reminded us all of one of the facts of our lives-our relationships weren't recognized in the law. We knew that that'd had serious repercussions with some gay couples, and we could only hope that it would never happen to us. We hoped that maybe the law would change in Stefan's time.

We were done with the lawyer by eight, grabbed Cokes at Art and Bill's, and were headed back to Grand Forks by 8:30. I might note that Stefan had rarely gotten Cokes back in Newfoundland, but was learning quickly. It looked like he'd acquire our addiction before long. We were home before midnight and headed directly to bed.

The next morning Stefan greeted us at breakfast with an announcement. "I'd love to live with Art and Bill. I don't want to seem to be turning down everybody's generosity here, but I think I really would like to continue to be a Canadian." We assured Stefan that we certainly understood that, and were delighted that we'd been able to find a good arrangement for him as quickly as we did. That morning I drafted the necessary permission form for Stefan's parents, and emailed it to John, along with a long note explaining the plans for Stefan. He was to explain it all to Stefan's parents, get them to sign the permission, and FedEx it directly to Art. By dinner time I had a reply. Stefan's parents had been worried about what possible arrangements could be made for Stefan. They were also afraid that they were going to lose him to the Americans. When they heard that he'd be living in Canada they almost broke down they were so relieved. John noted that they were so grateful to everyone that had helped Stefan, but they didn't really know how to thank them. John had assured them that he'd convey their thanks to all concerned.

Now that we knew where Stefan would be living, it was time to buy him some clothes. He'd brought everything he owned with him, and it all fit into one little suitcase. We started at Fred's Sports, and I've never been so glad to be on Fred's pink list in my life. One doesn't usually think of a sporting goods store for clothing, but it is, in fact, their stock in trade. A much larger percentage of their gross is in jackets, shoes, and various sporting outfits than you would ever expect. Since wearing sports outfits to school was now very popular, it was very easy to get a big percentage of the clothes he'd need for school at Fred's. Add to that his winter outdoor gear, and a big chunk of his needs were covered at Fred's. The rest we got at the local men's clothing store that served the university crowd. Stefan was a rather grand looking young man as he greeted us for dinner.

That evening we had a big dinner, in our formal dining room, and invited as many of the people who had met Stefan since his arrival as would fit around our dining room table. It was a big, happy crowd, and it marked the end of what could've been a very difficult adventure, but one that had turned out wonderfully.

The next day I drove Stefan back to Winnipeg, with all of his belongings crammed into his suitcase and three boxes in the trunk. He couldn't believe it all. "There's more clothing here than my mother, father and I had all together back in Hermitage."

"You don't live in Hermitage anymore, Stefan. The big city of Winnipeg is going to be a big change. Take your dress cues from Art, Bill, and the other boys at school. You'll still be a Canadian, but you have to learn to be a Toby not a Newfie."

"A Toby?"

"A Manitoban."

For a while we got regular telephone calls from Art or Bill, telling us how Stefan was doing. School was a shock on two fronts. First, his Newfie accent was thought to be hilarious by his fellow students. Art and Bill had warned him, and had suggested that his best defense would be to laugh right along with them. As soon as he took offense, he'd have lost the battle. That approach had worked, and now his friends were trying to help him sound more like a Toby.

His other shock was in academics. He'd been near the top of his class in Hermitage; now he found he could barely keep up. Luckily, Art had been a good student and now became tutor and mentor. I think he'd put it to Stefan just about the way Tim'd put diving success to Billy. Stefan had been game, and they started a study regime that would've staggered most kids, and certainly most kids from Newfoundland. But Stefan had been determined to make the best of the opportunity that the world had provided to him. He worked like a dog, read voraciously, and kept a written journal which Art reviewed and corrected weekly. By God, by the end of the year he was near the top of his class. In his fourth (and last) year he took a back seat to no one. Miracle of miracles he was his class valedictorian. Those who heard his valedictory speech-and that included Tim and me-wouldn't have known he grew up in rural Newfoundland.

He wasn't as successful in romance. He'd decided that he'd stay in the closet, at least for a while. Art and Bill thought that was a good idea until he was comfortable at his new school. Then he could make a reasonable decision. They knew there was no chance of his outing in Hermitage following him to Winnipeg.

Art decided that he should tell Stefan the story of his high school romance with Bill, and to tell him about his relationship with Harry as well. (Episode 38). In particular, he told him about being discovered by Harry's father as they were naked in his living room. He wanted to assure Stefan that he could expect from Bill and Art the same love and acceptance that Harry received from his father. Bill and Art also told Stefan the story of their rejection by their parents, and the fact that they'd never returned to Grand Forks since they left for Winnipeg. They told Stefan, "You're lucky; your parents are loving and supportive. They deserve love and support back. They may be uncomfortable with a gay son, but they passed the love test. Love them for it. And keep in touch with them."

The summer after Stefan got to Winnipeg Tim and I (using Fred's Gang support money, which he insisted was for exactly that sort of thing) gave Stefan a trip back to Newfoundland. He had to change planes in Toronto and then again in Halifax, as he flew to Gander. By now he was a confident young man, and had no trouble making the trip on his own. John had bundled his parents into his station wagon and driven them up to Gander to meet Stefan. It was a grand reunion.

As they drove back to Hermitage, Stefan's father told him, "Stefan, your mother and I've spent a lot of time talking to Mr. Pastos since you left. I think we understand a lot more about your being gay than we did last winter. We want you to know this. We love you, and we love you as you are. Now, you're coming back to Hermitage, and you're going to be here about a week. We don't want you to come slinking back and hiding. Stand up, be a man, and greet your old friends. If they can't deal with it, that's their problem, not yours. Nobody's going to hurt you."

In fact, he was well received by his friends at Hermitage and John Watkins Academy. That he now lived in Winnipeg, and was a success at a big high school in Winnipeg was of much more interest to them than the fact that he was gay, which was never mentioned. The week went by quickly, and Stefan had to get back to Winnipeg. Summer was the busy season in Art and Bill's antique store, and he'd be their summer clerk; in previous summers they'd hired a young man or woman from the University of Manitoba, but this year a high school student would get the job!

That summer Stefan finally got up his nerve to talk about sex with one of his friends from school. Luckily he sensed that the boy had no sympathy for gay sex before Stefan exposed himself and he quickly changed the subject. A second try in the fall got him nowhere-but the boy was sufficiently kind that he never said anything to anyone else. With two misses out of two, Stefan gave up trying and decided that he'd stay in the closet until university. Luckily, he had Art and Bill to talk to, so his frustrations didn't have to be kept inside. He realized that that was a lot more than a lot of gay kids had. He just wished he knew who the gay kids were at his school. Clearly they were no more out than he was.

He talked with Bill and Art about where to go to university. He came down to Grand Forks to visit UND and talk to Tim and me about the possibility of going there, or elsewhere in the U.S. And he talked by telephone to John back in Hermitage. With the grades he had, he was going to be able to go just about anywhere he wanted, and if he stayed in Canada, grant funds would be available. We assured him that money for his education in the U.S. would likewise be no problem.

He settled on Canada, and narrowed it down to three: Memorial in St. John's, Newfoundland; the University of Toronto; and the University of Manitoba. He liked the idea of going back to Newfoundland, and John had assured him that the Memorial University was a very fine school. However, he realized that the Newfoundland of St. John's was as different from Hermitage as St. John's was from Winnipeg. He wouldn't be returning "home." And "home", i.e. Hermitage, was a long car trip from St. John's. He could get from Winnipeg to Gander to Hermitage almost as easily as he could drive from St. John's to Hermitage, which meant going through Gander.

The University of Toronto was one of the finest universities in Canada, or the world for that matter. It was also in a huge big city, that was more than as much bigger than Winnipeg than Winnipeg was bigger than Hermitage. He wasn't sure that he was ready for that transition. And he knew that everyone he knew in Canada was located in either Winnipeg or Hermitage. Going to school in Toronto was a little scarier than he wanted to tackle. Both Bill and Art, who were graduates of the University of Winnipeg, encouraged him to go to UM (the University of Manitoba), if he was going to stay in Winnipeg. It was the more prestigious of the two institutions, and with his academic success in high school they believed that that was where he should go. And he did.

Romantically, things changed, but they didn't really improve. At UM there was a fairly active gay consciousness/gay pride group. It was in the mid-eighties on the Canadian prairie: gay consciousness was a better description than gay pride. The little group avoided being "in your face," but they were able to maintain an active presence, through which Stefan and others were able to safely find other gay individuals. And Stefan did. It was a totally new experience for him, and he moved very slowly. But he did date several other young men, all about his age and year in school. But they were all more experienced than he was, and they were into anal sex, generally as tops. At first, Stefan was delighted to actually have some homosexual experiences, but he gradually realized that these relationships weren't loving, and they were based on the wishes of his partners without much consideration of his wishes.

Luckily for Stefan, Bill and Art were a great resource for him. He could talk to them openly, and they were able to give him pretty good advice. Art told him, "Stefan, there's a lot more to a gay relationship than just sex, and there's a lot more to gay sex than fucking, and there's a lot more to fucking than just being a bottom. You're being abused, and you need to step back and think about these relationships."

"Where, and when, am I going to find better?"

"Look, Stefan. A lot of straight freshmen aren't jumping into bed with the first boy or girl they date. The rules shouldn't be different for you. If all your date wants is sex, then you probably don't want that date."

"I guess you're right. I need to slow down."

"Yes, I think you do. You also need to think a little about what you do when you do have sex. I'll admit that a lot of gay men only think in terms of fucking. That's true of many straight men as well. But, both gay and straight, they're missing a lot. Hands, mouths, fingers, toes, a lot of parts of your body can, and should, be involved in sex. Bill and I fuck less than half the time we have sex. What we really like is 69, and we do it sideways, with him on top, with me on top, and screwed around in various ways."

"Wow."

Bill said, "We'd love to take you to bed and give you some lessons, but it would be totally inappropriate. We've been surrogate fathers to you, and letting that lead to a sexual relationship would be irresponsible."

Art said, "I have an idea. Christmas is coming, and I don't think that you have any plans to go back to Newfoundland for the holidays-you visited again last summer."

"You're right, I don't."

"Why don't you visit Tim and Charlie over Christmas."

"Uh, two questions, Art. First, how does this flow out of our conversation about my sexual frustrations? Second, just how to I go about inviting myself to be Tim and Charlie's guests at Christmas?"

"It's a long story, and I only know small parts of it. But Bill and I got to know Tim and Charlie when they visited us a while ago here in Winnipeg. We had a mutual friend, Harry Jensen, who'd been a diver with Tim at the University of North Dakota. He and I had been lovers in high school, but I hadn't seen him since. Tim and Charlie were driving through Canada and more or less just dropped in. They're an incredible pair. Bill and I were in the closet, but they knew all about us through Harry. Turns out that they'd been involved sexually with Harry, as they supported him in his diving."

"This is getting complicated. And a little off the wall."

"Tim and Charlie are completely off the wall. They think of sex as a reasonable part of most close human relationships. More importantly, they're part of, I guess you'd say the leaders of, a large group of very loving and like-minded people. You met some of them when you went to Grand Forks from Hermitage. But at that point you weren't ready for sexual invitations, and you didn't get any-though they certainly knew you were gay. I think you'd find things are very different now."

"You're telling me that I would likely be involved with some of these guys sexually."

Bill said, "Smart kid. We didn't have to draw you a picture."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"In that group, I think I can guarantee you that you won't be pushed further than you want to go."

"And you can arrange this with Tim?"

"Tim didn't hesitate to call me up on the phone and ask if I wanted a foster son. I won't hesitate to call him up and ask him to be kind to that son for the holidays. Shall I call him?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't think I have anything to lose."

"And you have a lot to gain."

There's bus service between Winnipeg and Grand Forks-a stop on the run to Fargo. Stefan boarded the bus at 6:30 on the morning of December 23, and arrived in Grand Forks right on time at 11:45. Stops and the delay of getting a bus across the border turn a three hour car trip into a more than five hour bus trip, but Stefan arrived none the worse for wear. Tim and I met him at the bus station

We told Stefan that we wanted to introduce him to a group that called themselves the Circle. We explained that it was a group of nine, and we described the relationships between the nine of them. I'm not really sure that, at that point, Stefan actually believed all that he was hearing. That kind of group living arrangement was beyond his experience, as were the sexual relationships involved. But he was eager to meet the group, which we told him were the members of the Gang that were closest to Stefan in age, being just a few years older than he. That night we were going to entertain all of the Circle, as well as Fred and Marty, at Dakota House for dinner.

I explained who Fred and Marty were, and I further explained that the money that had paid for Stefan's travel to Grand Forks almost two years before, as well as his clothes and other goodies, as well as his bus ticket here from Winnipeg, all came from Fred and Fred's Sports.

"Fred is the Fred of Fred's Sports? I remember the store here where I got a lot of my school clothes. There's one in Winnipeg too. I've bought some sports equipment there from time to time. It's a big company."

"Yes, and Fred's the most down to earth guy you'll ever meet. But it'll be perfectly OK for you to thank him for the support he's provided."

Dinner was a casual affair, despite being catered by the University Food Service and served in our huge dining room-we'd told everybody not to dress up. Stefan seemed to enjoy the Circle, and they invited him to join them the next day, Christmas Eve. That had been scripted in advance between Tim and me and the Circle, with the understanding that they'd only extend the invitation if they liked Stefan and were comfortable inviting him.

Well, everybody loved Stefan. He was affable, intelligent, and his accent which combined his Newfie past with his Toby present was both unique and charming. He was forthright about his sexuality, for the first time in his life, I think, in that large a group. The Circle was equally forthright, and several of them told of experiences in high school that weren't as bad as Stefan's, but that they didn't want to repeat.

The next morning, about 10:00 a.m. following a lovely breakfast, Tim drove Stefan over to our old house, still occupied by the Circle while they worked on their new home, The Roundhouse, in the old mansion next door. He took his suitcase with him, having been invited to spend that night, and as many nights as he liked till he had to go back to Winnipeg. When he arrived, his suitcase was whisked away upstairs and nothing was said about where he'd be sleeping. He was smart enough not to ask and just go with the flow. Tim and I had other obligations for Christmas Eve and for most of Christmas Day, and the Circle was glad to provide a home for Stefan. As he would soon see, and I expect all ready suspected, he was going to get the kind of experience that Art and Bill had predicted. Tim and I accepted their invitation to come for a late supper on Christmas Day, and we left with Stefan comfortable among friends.

Our Christmas Eve was to be old home week. The eight original Gang were getting together, along with their spouses. The whole affair had been arranged by their parents who were babysitting the grandchildren so that we could all spend Christmas Eve together. So the 15 of us-Hal and Sue; Tom and Nancy; Jim, Andy, Amy and Kara; Franklin and Phil; Ronnie, Kyle and Sharon; Tim and me-were going to spend the night together. We didn't know it, but the spouses had been in on the planning, and when it was time to go to bed the eight original campers were all put together in the den-where they'd put two queen mattresses together on the floor. We were required to strip before we were allowed in the room, and we were told to be ready for a very early breakfast-because everybody had to get home for Christmas presents under the tree with their kids.

Ronnie, who was usually our philospher, looked at the group of us and said, "You know, it was inevitable that the Gang would expand. It couldn't remain just the eight of us. But I miss that summer. I miss going to bed with just the eight of us in the room like we did for those two weeks-even though there was no sex back them. I know we can't go back, and I really wouldn't want to. But we had something special that summer, and nothing that's happened since can replace it. I love you all, and this in going to be a wonderful night.

It was, and we even got a little sleep!

We had Christmas dinner with Norman and Betsy, along with Carl, Carol, Nelson and Bert. We were Uncle Charlie and Uncle Tim to all of the COGs, but with these two we really were their Uncles. It was something special. And they were special kids. It was a great day, and it ended with supper with the Circle in our old house. At that supper we heard the story of the evening before when the Circle had entertained Stefan for dinner-his first night with them. Margie had sat next to Stefan and-within hearing of everybody and accompanied with loud laughter-described the sexual prowess and physical attributes of each of the Circle. I don't think she tried very hard to be accurate, but she was terribly funny. By about the third description Stefan began to get into the spirit of the evening and laughed along with the rest of them. When she finished, she turned to Stefan and said, "OK, Stefan, now tell us about yourself."

It took him a while to realize that he really was expected to talk about himself, and then it took him even longer to get the first word out. But they all waited patiently, and he eventually realized that thet were going to wait him out, so he'd better start. "I'd like to be able to say that I was really good in bed, but I haven't had enough experience to be able to claim that." He paused, and realized that at this point in her descriptions Margie had given a very explicit description of each boys genitalia. He went on. "OK, I'll admit it; I've measured my twanger. It's about three inches soft and 6 and three-quarters inches hard. And it gets very hard. And it's very hard now."

Margie reached over, felt his crotch, and said, "It sure is. Ooh, that could be painful. Let it out." With that she unzipped his fly, reached in through the fly of his boxers, and pulled it out. It was long and very hard. And Stefan was the most embarrassed college freshman that you can imagine.

He told me later, "I realized that this was both a test and an invitation. They'd all opened themselves up to me-I knew they were gay; I knew about their three-way; I knew they were sexually active throughout the whole Circle-now I could reciprocate or not. It was up to me. Hell, Charlie, that was what I'd come to Grand Forks for. It had arrived sooner, and with more gusto, than I'd expected, but here it was. I sure as Hell wasn't going to say, "No," but saying, "Yes," even indirectly, was tough."

When he had actually said was, "You know I'm gay. I don't mind your hand there, Margie, but I'd rather have a male hand."

Toppy was there immediately. Margie said, "OK, Stefan. It's time for bed. We don't have a guest room in this house, so you're going to have to sleep with one of our pairs. We decided that we'd let you start with Nate and Pat who are the youngest people here, and they're closest to you in age. They make an interesting pair: Nate's probably the gayest boy here; Pat's the straightest; and the two of them are the most in love with each other.

Nate and Pat took Stefan up to the master bedroom and suggested that they start with a shower! Stefan took one look at the shower and said, "That's a bigger shower than you find in the boys dorms at the university."

"I'm sure you exaggerate, but it is a wonderful shower. You can thank Tim and Charlie for it-they had it put into the house. Now get your clothes off and enjoy it. One got in front of him and the other behind him, and they washed, massaged, rinsed, massaged, washed again, massaged, rinsed again, and finally massaged Stefan for about half an hour. They got him out, dried him, and led him to the bed. It was cool enough that they needed a sheet and blanket, even all cuddled together. They hugged, kissed, massaged, fondled, tickled, and eventually masturbated Stefan so gently and lovingly that his ejaculation surprised him.

When he'd recovered, Stefan said, "I've never been touched, or loved, like that before in my life. How can I thank you?"

"Oh, man," said Nate, "we haven't had that much fun in years. We aren't going to want to share you with the rest of the Circle for the rest of your stay here, but I guess we're going to have to."

Stefan said, "I hate to ask this, but I'm going to. I've never had anyone's cock in my mouth. It's an experience I'd like to have. Can I suck one of you?"

Pat said, "Suck away, kid. We both love it. We can't get enough of it. Just a word of warning to the tyro: neither Nate nor I are in the habit of warning when we're going to shoot-so you're going to get a mouthful. Can you handle that?"

"It just goes with the territory, doesn't it?"

"It sure does."

"Then I'll have to handle it. May I assume that spitting it out is considered gauche?"

"Not in these parts. We want people to be comfortable with whatever they do."

"I'm here for experience. I know you guys were told that by Tim. I'll be ready for what comes."

He cuddled up to Nate, kissed him, and slowly worked down to his dick. He didn't rush, but he didn't hesitate either. And he didn't quit until he had a full mouthful down his throat. He repeated the performance for Pat, and then the three of them slept. The next morning Stefan thanked them profusely for the first really positive homosexual experience of his life. He concluded, "I couldn't have done it with two nicer guys. Thank you, thank you."

You don't really need the details of the rest of the vacation, do you? I didn't think so. Stefan got a real education in a very short period of time. He learned about kindness, gentleness, and putting a partner's needs ahead of your own. He also had some real lessons in the physiology of gay sex-and thanks to Margie, a little about straight sex as well. In Stefan's mind the important lesson was that gays could have wonderful sexual experiences without fucking. He hadn't been ready to fuck or be fucked with the Circle, and they never pushed or urged him. He vowed that that would be a litmus test for partners or lovers in the future. If they insisted on pushing him over that threshold, he wasn't interested in them-hinting, suggesting, inviting was fine, but if they didn't respect his initial demur, then they weren't right for him. After his time with the Circle, he knew that gay men were capable of that much respect of each other, and he was determined to find one.

Back home he put that determination into practice. He learned very quickly that it was going to limit him, and that he'd get a reputation as a prude (or some other pejorative noun), but he didn't mind. Perhaps because of that reputation, he eventually found three students at the university that he was comfortable with. The four of them sort of became a foursome, doing things together, and ultimately sharing an apartment. Gradually the four became two pairs-moving just the opposite of the Gang's foursome. By the time of graduation, Stefan and his lover, Lars, were determined that they were going to be life partners.

Lars was from Halifax, Nova Scotia, and had attended the University of Manitoba simply to experience a different part of Canada. Lars had come out to his family in high school and discovered that his parents were completely supportive. As a family, which included a straight older brother, Gunnar, they'd decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for Lars to come out at school. But Gunnar told Lars of an experience he'd had earlier that year (his fourth year and Lars' second). A third year student named Norman had evidently had a crush on Gunnar and had come out to him, hoping that Gunnar was gay. Gunnar had told him that he wasn't gay, but that he hoped they could be friends, and that his secret was completely safe. The boy'd been quite relieved, because he'd come out to Gunnar with great trepidation. They'd remained friends and Gunnar had put Norman and Lars in touch with each other. That had led to a high school friendship that was quite physical but never particularly romantic. Norman had gone to Dalhousie University in Halifax, so their friendship continued during Lars fourth year. Lars did confide in Stefan that one of the reasons he'd left Halifax for Manitoba was his belief that both he and Norman needed to get on with their lives and not continue a physical relationship that wasn't going to go beyond that.

The more Stefan had gotten to know Lars the more he was convinced that he'd found the "right one," and Lars seemed to feel the same way. With both sets of parents open to the relationship (Stefan's more reluctantly, Lars enthusiastically) Stefan and Lars decided that they should make their future in the Maritimes. So after graduation, which Tim, I, Fred, Marty and the Circle attended, along with John Pastos (on Fred's invitation-wrong word, Fred's insistence), Stefan and Lars paid a visit to Grand Forks to thank all of the Gang for their support when it had been so important. They headed to Halifax, and eventually ended up in Fredericton, New Brunswick. As smart as ever, Stefan enrolled in the University of New Brunswick School of Law, while Lars got a job in the business office of a local hospital. Later Stefan as an attorney supported Lars as he got a graduate degree in teaching. They're now living in Charlotte, Prince Edward Island, and happy as pigs in shit. Fishing has ended as a livelihood in Hermitage, and Stefan and Lars have helped Stefan's parents resettle in Charlotte. And, yes, John Pastos is living there, too, with his partner, another John, whom they've renamed Johnny to avoid confusion. Tim and I visited them in Charlotte for a weekend, and we were happy to report that they're all "living happily ever after." A fate well deserved by all of them.

And the third person that we met on our world tour that we thought we might see again in the U.S.? That would be Jin the Singaporean gymnast. He and Tim did write for a while, and Jin did visit the United States, but it was on a gymnastics tour that precluded his visiting us in Michigan. The closest they came was Ohio State in Columbus. We went down to see the two gymnastics teams compete in what was more of an exhibition than a competition. Jin, Tim, and I had a nice dinner at a Columbus restaurant, but that was it. The next day the Singaporeans were off to Duke University and Tim and I headed back to Michigan. We never saw Jin again, though we do write now and then. Both Jin and Tim have a standing invitation to the other to visit if they're ever in the neighborhood, but their neighborhoods are a long way apart and their paths haven't crossed again.