Singer Without a Song

By Chris James

Chapter Four

The baseball field around them was deserted. They had come here because Alan insisted the place had meaning, although he didn't tell John what that entailed. The field was behind an elementary school in the middle of a neighborhood not too far from Alan's house.

The evening was supposed to start off with pizza when Alan suggested he wasn't hungry and maybe they should just catch another flick, John reminded him that they needed to talk.

"I thought you wanted to tell me about something, but I'm up for anything you want," John said.

"Just wondering if you still wanted to hear my innermost secrets?" Alan said.

"It must be important or you wouldn't have offered," John said.

"You're right. Then let's go find someplace quiet," Alan said.

The whole ride over Alan steered with one hand and chewed on a fingernail. John had never seen him do that before. It spoke volumes about his nervousness and the feeling was contagious. What was he going to say? Was Alan worried about what he might think?

The place was dark except for a distant streetlight at the end of the parking lot. Alan pulled in beside several bright yellow school busses and turned off the engine. The dugouts and the playing field sat dimly in front of them through the chain link fence.

The moon was supposed to be full tonight but it wouldn't be up for several hours. The sky above was clear and full of stars. Alan seemed to be working up to something as he sat staring out through the windshield.

John leaned back against the passenger door and looked across at his friend. Alan's hands gripped the steering wheel but John could tell he was already entering into that trance like state he'd seen happen before.

Alan's voice, when he finally spoke, seemed to come from far away. His words were steady and free of emotion. John felt himself shudder, it all seemed so spooky. Maybe this was something he didn't really want to know. Alan was still pretty much an unknown quantity, what if it was something terrible? Would he get up and run away?

"David Baldridge was the tallest, meanest boy in the ninth grade at Eastern Junior High school," Alan began, and with those words the story John wasn't sure he wanted to hear unfolded.

* * *

The sound of David's steel shod boots on the hard linoleum floors would cause a panic in the hallway as kids scrambled to get out of his way. I figured either he was born an asshole or maybe his braces were too tight, cutting off the circulation to that little pea brain between his ears.

Whatever the reason, David really enjoyed doling out his own brand of poisonous cruelty on the smaller guys in the school. He was a freak of nature. A fifteen year old Frankenstein. He had long sideburns and a five o'clock shadow on his face that started at ten-thirty in the morning. David had hair on his body where I didn't think anything was supposed to grow. The other half of him was a major case of bad acne.

Even as the testosterone in my body started flowing at a constant drip, David's seemed to be at flood stage most of the time. I was successful at avoiding the guy my first year there but I couldn't go on doing it forever.

At six foot three, David was pretty intimidating so there weren't too many fights he didn't win and he sure loved to fight. I was just reaching five-ten and was pretty fit from several years on the swim team. But I was definitely no match for David. I never thought about fighting him, but it almost seemed inevitable.

What really made me vulnerable was all this long blonde hair. It had been growing since I started sixth grade and now it was a perfect handful for someone to latch onto in a fight. Ok, I was a little vain about it and hated having to wear a bathing cap when I swam. But these are the sixties, hair means you're cool and back then I wanted to be cool in the worst way.

It was just after fifth period on the last day of my first month in eighth grade, another mindless afternoon. I was dialing in the combination to my locker, twenty-three right, eleven left and fifteen right. Funny how I can still remember the combination like it was yesterday.

I had just lifted the latch on the locker and had opened the door maybe an inch or two when suddenly this large hand reached out and slammed it shut. I jumped back, damn near losing a finger in the process. That pissed me off since I had plans for each of those digits. Particularly the ones on my right hand who knew the most intimate of my secrets.

I looked up into this horrible grimace of pimples and tin. My first formal introduction to Dangerous Dave.

"Hey blondie, you're in my way," Dave said. His breath smelled like rotten eggs and I almost gagged.

Dave's two tag-along cronies laughed at me and every kid in the hall stopped to watch. I guess it was just my turn. Two other boys had been pushed around in the lunchroom that morning and another came out of the boy's bathroom soaking wet from a little head first swim in the nearest toilet.

Dave was on a roll that day but I wasn't about to knuckle under. He could hit me but somehow I would get my pound of flesh in the process. This was about my self respect which was pretty low at the time for a lot of reasons. So I thought what the hell, what did I have to lose?

"What the fuck do you want?" I screamed at him.

The crowd around us became still in anticipation of Dave's certain violence. I had thrown out my challenge. I had said the unthinkable to the most feared creature in school. Blood would be spilled and it would in all probability be mine.

"Huh?" Was all Dave said.

"What the fuck do you want?" I said. "Just leave me the fuck alone. This place sucks badly enough without you getting in my face." I was feeling this anger build up in me to the flash point. Oh, I'd been angry before but this was something new. I suddenly felt like Superman. Then the locker door swung open and I went off.

My fist swung at the door, slamming it with an energy I didn't know was in me. I willed it to be destroyed as if it were the cause of all my problems in life. And as if obeying that command, the locker door rebounded from my fist. It flew off the hinges, clattering to the floor and slid across the hallway before coming to rest against the far wall. It laid there, a dead body, with kids standing around staring down at the floor like they expected the homicide squad to arrive any second and paint a white outline around the carcass.

I felt a tingling in my hand but no pain. I was surprised at the energy that had made this all happen. I had only thought it should happen and it did. Then Dave started laughing, great gut busting peals of maniacal laughter and the kids around us started smiling.

"You're a fucking crazy man," Dave said with astonishment as he patted me on the back. It seemed to mean something to him and somehow we were all friends now. Dave shook my hand in front of the whole crowd and I was shocked. But I could tell from the look in his eyes that Dave respected me and that was quite a mind blower.

Oh, yeah. I pulled two weeks of detention for damaging school property and my Dad forked over about forty bucks to fix the door. But despite the minor punishment I had gained Dangerous Dave's respect, and for some reason that seemed important to me.

Kids stepped to the side when I walked down the hall, big respect gained at such a small price. But then I wondered when the other side of the coin would turn up.

The odd friendship gave me a glimpse of Dave's life on a daily basis. I quickly decided the role of school bully was a front. Dave felt insecure being trapped in a man's body and built like a beanstalk. His mind was certainly as immature as his actions towards the kids who made fun of him. I felt sorry for him and the empathy allowed me to accept the friendship even though I didn't always agree with the big guy.

So one afternoon Dave got into one of his usual after school temper tantrums, and that meant someone had to get hurt. Since I was there it meant I had to watch.

During this fight Dave ended up scraping the skin off his knuckles, probably a swing gone astray. But his blood somehow got on my favorite swim team jacket and when I complained about the stain Dave just smiled.

"Come on over to my house, we'll wash it," He suggested. It was my first invitation to enter the devil's lair, how could I resist? "Yeah, whatever it takes, my brother will know what to do," Dave said.

I had this image of another large hulk in the family Frankenstein, the big brother who knew just about everything. Maybe the guy would make Dave look like a dwarf, I had to see that.

So off we went on our bikes to the Baldridge castle. Dangerous Dave's bicycle was about three times too small for his body so when he stood up his crotch was about three feet above the ball buster bar down the center of the frame. He looked like a real clown on a toy cycle, arms and legs all stuck out at strange angles just so he could pedal. I thought it was really very funny, but wasn't crazy enough to tell Dave that.

I rolled into the driveway and skidded to a stop, it wasn't what I'd expected. The house had a neatly manicured lawn with a few lingering roses in well tended flowerbeds, this wasn't my image of Dave's house at all. Banging his way through the back door, Dave pointed at the washer.

"Drop your jacket there, I'll get Tommy," He growled and clomped off into the house.

I took off the jacket and examined the bloodstains, I really thought it was ruined and my Mom would be pissed. That's when a young boy walked quietly into the room.

* * *

John had listened patiently to Alan's discourse about junior high school. The imagery was funny and yet everything he said seemed to be pointing at something ahead. Now Alan's voice had softened when he mentioned the young boy. This was the turning point, John was sure. Alan's hands still gripped the steering wheel as he had throughout the story but his knuckles were quickly turning white. The words came as before but now John felt a growing sense of apprehension as Alan continued.

* * *

Tommy was about five foot four and maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. His body, clad in the T-shirt and shorts he was wearing looked lean, and yet somehow extremely muscular. He had the most beautiful, soft complexion and strong blue eyes. I figured he must be adopted since he couldn't belong to the same gene pool as Dave. If anything it was ironic, with his long silky blonde hair and those eyes, the boy could have been my brother.

"Don't rub it in," The boy said to me, taking the jacket from my hands, "It needs to soak before it's washed."

I watched as this child confidently filled the laundry tub halfway up with cool water and poured in some stuff from a green bottle. Tommy looked at the stain as he shoved the jacket into the liquid.

"It might come out," He said. "It would be a shame to have ruined such a beautiful jacket."

"How long will that take?" I stammered, still dumbfounded at the kid's looks.

"Can't you wait? Oh, sure you can. Dave is taking his afternoon dump," Tommy laughed. "Then he'll sit in there and jerk off while reading some girlie magazine. It's the same every day, like clockwork."

That was disgusting, and not something I really wanted to know. "Is he really your brother?" I asked.

"God works in mysterious ways, don't you think? We have different mothers."

"So you're his step-brother?" I asked.

"Well duh, what do you think? His mom died when he was born and Dad remarried. So you're Alan. Are you the crazy guy he talks about, what's so weird about you anyway?" Tommy asked.

He was looking me over and I started blushing. "I'm not weird, just frustrated," I replied.

"That's all right, I want to be a dancer and they all think that's weird. The ballet, it's all I think about. I take lessons," Tommy said. He closed his eyes and smiled, a deep look of contentment came over him. Such a flood of emotion flowed over me then that I almost fainted. All kinds of thoughts assaulted my senses at once. But the lasting impression I got from him was warm and sweet. That's when I knew Tommy was queer.

"Are you ok?" Tommy asked, "You look pale."

"I'm fine, I think.

"This is going to take some time, why don't we go listen to some music?" And then Tommy put his right hand on his hip and struck a pose. It was the most girlish little thing.

"I'm not really crazy, you know" I stammered, putting my hands on the boy's shoulders. "I just let people think that to keep them from finding out what I'm really thinking." With that I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Tommy stiffened but I watched his eyes for the truth of what he thought. "You...You're like me?"

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I asked.

"No, never," Tommy said.

He reached out a hand and brushed the hair back from my face, he was so beautiful and I told him so.

"You're beautiful too," He said, tears forming in his eyes. "I never met another boy who was so much like me," Tommy said.

Oh God, I was not imagining this. Tommy took my hand, leading me further into the house. We passed the bathroom where Dave was hard at hard at work.

"He'll be in there for at least an hour," Tommy whispered, "Nobody else is home."

The boy's tiny room looked like a little girl's paradise, stuffed animals were piled everywhere and above the bed was a huge poster of a ballet dancer in mid-leap. A half naked male dancer.

"That's Rudolf Hametovich Nureyev, he's the greatest ballet dancer of our time," Tommy said. "I want to be just like him."

"Damn. Look at the crotch on that guy," I said, and immediately felt like a fool.

"He's wearing a dance belt, silly, it protects the family jewels. But you're probably right, I'll bet he's hung too," Tommy said with a giggle.

Holy Cow, the boy was just so direct. Suddenly Tommy began to undress, pulling off his T-shirt and shorts, what was he doing? I watched him strip down and began to get worried. The kid could only be about twelve, was he even past puberty? Shit, this was Dangerous Dave's little brother. What was I doing here?

"I have ballet class tonight. Do you want to see me dance?" Tommy asked, pulling a pair of black tights from his dresser drawer.

"Uh, I'm not sure. Do they allow people to watch?"

"I meant right here. I'll dance for you."

With that Tommy turned his back modestly and slid off his underwear. I watched the boy reveal his bare backside as he began to pull on a dance belt. I know I was holding my breath and Tommy hopped in a circle while he pulled up the belt. I know he did it to give me a full view of his works. I wasn't disappointed, puberty had already blessed him.

The tights came next, clinging to his strong legs like a second skin. But Tommy's ballet slippers looked uncomfortable as he expertly laced the ribbons around his ankles and tied the bow. The final product convinced me that this kid was serious about his ability as a dancer.

Tommy plopped a record on the stereo and I heard the opening strains of Swan Lake. Not that I knew anything about that kind of music, that knowledge would come later when he began my education. I sat on his tiny bed and watched Tommy's young body stretching gracefully to warm up.

He posed, with chin up and neck arched while the look on his face changed and became intensely serious. I understood what he was doing. This was the moment of focus. How many times had I stood on the starting blocks focused intently down the length of a pool?

The flow of his arms and legs as they moved in time with the music was astonishing. Everything about this boy was astonishing. He was so very thin and yet every ounce of his being seemed so perfectly sculpted. I knew nothing about dance but knew my heart had been captivated by the dancer.

Tommy finally turned so gracefully and gave me a profile of his body and his hands slid down to the bulge contained in his tights.

"I just want you to know I'm not a child anymore," Tommy said confidently. "I've never had sex before. Well, except with myself as I'm sure all guys do. But you knew I was queer before you even told me about yourself, didn't you? How long have you known you were different?"

"It seems like I've known forever," I told him. "I've only had a few experiences myself but they each taught me something."

"There's so much I want to learn. Will you teach me?" Tommy asked.

"I don't know," I said, torn between what he wanted and my own desires. "You're Dave's brother and that's pretty scary." It was unnerving being here with this boy and Dave just down the hall, I wanted to run away.

"But even if you can't, you will come back and see me, won't you?" Tommy said.

"I don't want to leave now," I said, "Its just Dave..."

"You let me worry about him," Tommy said forcefully, "He does anything I tell him to."

It was just the way he said it that made me understand that Dave wasn't the real tough guy in the family. I was overwhelmed by the emotion I saw on Tommy's face. We stepped closer and embraced. I felt his slender body shudder. Was it because I was his first queer friend?

Tommy reached up and took my head in his hands, pulling my mouth down to his and he kissed me. The passion, the sheer delight of kissing this boy, this angelic creature, made me tremble. This was really happening.

"We'll find a quiet place, without my brother around," Tommy said.

"Where?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I'll figure it out." He replied. "Come and see me tomorrow, your jacket should be clean by then. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Count on it," I said.

Wheeling away on my bike I felt like I was floating. My whole life suddenly had meaning. I loved everything about him. I was in love for the very first time.

* * *

John sat in a trance, his back against the car door. His eyes never left Alan's face. The boy was positively glowing with emotion as he spoke. The revelation that Alan considered himself queer was shocking.

If anything it made John feel confident about his own feelings, something he now knew Alan already understood. Just how long Alan had known he was queer was simple to figure out. Like with Tommy, he had known from the moment their eyes first met.

It was obvious now that Alan was much more experienced in matters of the heart. John was just beginning to appreciate how Alan's mind gave him a keener insight to other people. The fact that he had been judged worthy to hear the facts of Alan's love affair with Tommy meant he was trusted. It gave him a warm feeling inside, maybe this was what love felt like?

Alan looked over at him sitting in the dark corner. The smile when it came told John that his thoughts had once again been intercepted and accepted for the truth. With a nod Alan released his grip on the steering wheel and flexed his stiff fingers. Strands of his long blonde hair fell across his face but Alan made no move to intercept them. With his face thus hidden behind a curtain he continued.

* * *

Tommy was in sixth grade at Pinewood Elementary, which was right down the street from Eastern. After last period the following day, I rode my bike down past the park and waited outside the entrance. I had a promise to keep. Tommy, who didn't seem at all surprised to see me there, came running towards me through the crowd of other kids. The gracefulness of his body, with all that blonde hair streaming out behind, made my heart skip a beat. He was wearing my jacket.

"I knew you'd be here," Tommy said.

"Where else would I be?" I couldn't wipe this silly grin off my face. Tommy had captivated me. I'd been smiling like this all day.

I had to rest my chin on Tommy's shoulder to see around all that billowing hair as I rode the boy home on my handlebars.

"Can we get together this weekend, maybe on Saturday?" I asked.

"Yeah, that would be great," Tommy replied. "I have an appointment with the allergist tomorrow after school, mom's gonna pick me up."

Tomorrow was Friday but then the following day they could spend time together.

"I'll come over and get you in the morning," I said. "My parents will be out of the house until afternoon."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Tommy laughed.

"I hope so. I want it to be perfect."

"Would you like your jacket back?" Tommy asked.

"No... I want you to have it."

Tommy's parents didn't come home until six and so they spent the rest of the afternoon talking and kissing as the boy began to assemble dinner for the family. Dave was hanging about up at the mall, probably because I had told him somebody had been bad mouthing him up there. Unfair I know, but then this was love.

Tommy really knew his way around the kitchen, something I was just beginning to understand as a useful skill. He washed a half dozen pieces of chicken to pop in the oven and described why he had taken cooking lessons.

Tommy's body had always been his worst enemy, something I would never have guessed. As a young child he had developed asthma and after months of testing the doctors discovered he was terribly allergic to so many things. There were mounds of stuff Tommy just couldn't eat, but with a smile he said that fortunately I wasn't on the list. Some foods made him sick and other things could even kill him. That was why he had learned to cook and begun the medical treatments which were building up his body for the ongoing fight.

I wanted to know how these things worked but when I expressed my growing concern Tommy gave me a quick hug and a gentle kiss.

"It's alright," Tommy said, "I'm glad you care. I wouldn't expect anything else from my boyfriend."

That having been said, Tommy went about his work, glancing occasionally at me as I sat there in a state of shock. Yes, Tommy had already committed himself to me.

I had puzzled over what to tell my parents about the new friendship with a sixth grader. To all my friends Tommy would be nothing, just a little kid. But he was already treated with respect since he was Dave's brother. We would have to be careful about what anyone saw us doing together, but when we spent time alone, well I had great hopes for those private times.

I needn't have worried. Tommy took care of my parents first thing on Saturday. For as long as I could remember we had kept an upright piano in the corner of the living room. My mother played occasionally but even though I once took lessons it usually sat idle.

To my great amusement and delight, Tommy made a beeline for the keyboard and lifted the cover from the keys. Playing a few chords to get a feel for the action, the boy launched into a flawless rendition of the Moonlight Sonata. I glanced over at my mother and saw a sweet smile on her face and a tear in her eye. Tommy had captivated her as well.

His charm and good manners had my parents won over in a second, and they never questioned our friendship. We sat listening to music on my stereo until my mom knocked on the door to say she was going shopping.

In any relationship there is a beginning and I can recall every nuance of those first hours alone with him. In surrendering his childhood to our lust, Tommy brought an end to my search for meaningful love. I won't describe the acts we performed except to say making love to Tommy was the fulfillment of my dreams and it took us both far beyond our wildest imaginings.

In the passing months, fall became winter and Christmas flew by. I presented him with a stone ring made of deep green jade which he wore on a chain around his neck. He gave me a gold ID bracelet with my name on the front and both our initials entwined in a heart on the inside. The gifts were simple, love was all we really wanted to share and that was available in great supply.

On visits to the mall, we would see high school boys walking with their girlfriends. Now I understood what they were feeling inside, love gave life a certain purpose. I could never show affection to Tommy as openly as some of those boys did but we found ways to express the need to touch, to hug and even to kiss in public.

For Valentine's Day, Tommy wrote my name across his chest with a marking pen. The silly boy, it took weeks to wear off and he had to put tape across it during his ballet lessons or it would show through his leotard. The craziness of my youth was gradually submerged. Just knowing that Tommy felt the same about our love gave me the greatest satisfaction I've ever known.

But as spring came and the trees burst into a rage of green their pollen was released. Tommy's allergies kept him home from school for days at a time. I would spend afternoons reading to the boy as he lay in a darkened room since even sunlight would cause a flare up in his sinuses. I understood his illness; my childhood had been no better.

But soon the pollen levels dropped and we could walk the streets at night again, especially after it rained. We spent the time looking at the stars and talking about our future life together.

Tommy was such an incurable romantic. Our favorite pastime became the hike down through the woods to the reservoir where we climbed up the rocks overlooking the stone dam. There amidst the thick bushes, under an arbor of tall trees we could mate. And sometimes it was like two wolves in heat. We would ravage each other, and I wore Tommy's scratches and bite marks with pride.

School ended for us both and now we could spend every waking moment of the summer with each other. Up in that hidden site above the dam, we built a shelter to weather the summer storms. Tommy's birthday was only a month away and in so many ways he was the perfect Leo. As we lay naked on the warm rocks, I could see that time had made changes in his body. The thinness was gone. He had become sleek and graceful as a cat.

In every way my folks were cooperative in furthering the relationship. My Mom thought Tommy was such a nice boy. He'd won her over by giving up a secret recipe for pasta sauce that had been in his family for generations. To seal the deal they had cooked it together and even my father seemed pleased.

To my surprise and delight my folks decided to go on a five-day cruise to the Bahamas. It meant they trusted me. I would have the house all to myself. When Tommy found out he promised to pack a bag and move in.

"Now don't you have more than one friend over at a time while we're gone," My father said, "I don't want to find a house full of broken furniture when I get back."

"You should invite that Tommy boy over," My mom suggested, "He's sweet."

"Sure, I'll invite Tommy."

The first night we moved all the breakables out of the living room, took off all our clothes and turned out the lights. Tommy hit me with a pillow and the battle was on. I let him win and as the loser I was tied up hand and foot until completely helpless. The little monster covered me with cherry syrup but then licked it off.

We had three magical days of bliss and then Tommy got the measles. I'd had them when I was eleven and recognized the symptoms immediately. It just happened. We woke up one morning and Tommy was covered in spots. I was crushed, the party was over.

Tommy called his Mom and she drove over to get him. I called our family doctor and took the bus down to the office where the guy said my chances of getting them again were slim to none. There were no symptoms as of yet so I went home to await my fate.

Tommy called that night, he had a high fever and itched like hell, but he laughed when I said it wasn't fair. He suggested I just missed our romantic games, well there was that too. The sound of laughter made us both feel better. I wanted to see him but the doctor had said no.

My parents returned from their trip the next day and for some reason Tommy didn't call that night. The following morning I felt uneasy. Something was definitely wrong, Tommy always called.

* * *

Alan gave a shudder and suddenly pushed the hair back from his face. His eyes looked up at the sky through the windshield. The stars were so bright and the moon was just beginning to make an appearance. John knew the story had reached a critical point and Alan was bracing himself for what was ahead.

* * *

My mom had just made lunch when the phone rang and she answered. I watched her face as she listened silently. And then I saw tears form in her eyes and begin to roll down her cheeks. She hung up the phone and sat heavily in the chair across from me.

"Oh, Alan... how can I tell you this? It's so horrible... your little friend Tommy... died at the hospital this morning. His mother said it was a reaction to the drugs he was given. I'm so sorry. I know you two were close... " And that's all I heard as my mind screamed in terror and I blacked out.

Through a swirling cloud of pain, I woke up on the kitchen floor with a wet towel across my forehead.

"Oh, Thank God," My mother said, "You passed out. Did you hit your head? Maybe I should take you to the hospital?"

"No, I'm fine. Please tell me it's all a cruel joke. Please say he didn't die," I moaned. Her tears said it all. I got up and ran.

I remember that it was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, mid-August, the fourteenth to be exact. Tommy died at seven minutes after nine that morning. My heart died at twelve-fifteen with a phone call.

Tommy would never get to be thirteen. He would never again get the chance to hear me say I loved him. My life was over.

I ran into the woods behind the house, tearing along the soggy trail my feet knew so well. The rain soaked my clothes but I felt nothing. The bite of the thorn bushes tearing at my shirt couldn't stop me. Down the trail I ran for what seemed like miles, sliding in the mud, following the path towards the dam.

I had to keep running. Stopping would only allow me time to think. My lungs were gasping for breath when all of a sudden the energy drained from my body and I slumped to the ground. Looking down on the pile of rocks where Tommy and I had loved one another, it was all too much. I closed my eyes and screamed. The sky opened up in response to my anguish, dropping torrents of water and obliterating all reality.

* * *

Alan looked over at him and John saw the tears streaming down his face. It was strange but he couldn't see very well either and realized he too was crying. Alan's pain had found its way into his heart. He wanted to take Alan's head in his hands and sooth the pain but it was too soon, Tommy still lived in there. Instead he placed his hand on the seat next to Alan's thigh and the gesture was accepted. Alan grasped that hand with fierce determination. The story needed an ending.

* * *

Somewhere in the midst of all those tears the thunder rolled and I felt Tommy's presence around me. The hair rose on the back of my neck, giving me such a chill that I just freaked out. Spinning around I felt my heart racing with fear but there was nothing, just the trees and rain.

"Tommy," I screamed, "Tommy?"

My voice broke and I suddenly felt an awful emptiness in my chest. The boy was truly gone.

I loved him. I really, really loved him. I screamed his name into the storm, but there was no reply. It made me think I could never love someone like that again.

And when I finally stopped crying it was to curse. God had done this to me; this was His fault after all. He had taken Tommy away. The priest at church would have said what we did was a mortal sin. Fuck him, fuck them all. No one could ever take Tommy's place and my mind told me I needed to go with him.

I lay in the rain all that afternoon and wished myself dead, hoping that somehow lightning would strike and I would be blasted from this world. Wherever Tommy had gone, I wanted to be with him. It was the only time I ever really wanted to kill myself.

I didn't come home until late that night, just about the point when my parents were going to report me missing. They got their son back but my spirit was broken. My body came home but I was not really there.

* * *

Here Alan paused, his breath ragged and John knew he was trying to push the final thoughts away. He squeezed Alan's hand, he wanted to know it all and somehow the ending was the hardest part to tell.

* * *

There were three weeks before school started up again. I had been on and off with the swim team ever since starting my relationship with Tommy. Now I threw myself into the water and pounded lap after lap like a crazy man. It helped to distract the body but my heart and mind was still full of unbelievable pain.

Rebelling against anything that made me feel good, I cut off all my hair. It was a real butcher job too, but necessary. Every time I looked in the mirror at myself with all that hair I saw the image of Tommy, the Tommy that would never grow up.

At Tommy's funeral, I saw Dave cry for the first time. He looked right at me with that big ugly face, the tears rolling down his cheeks. I really felt sorry for him and gave the boy a hug. We cried for Tommy together. Dave's loss was greater than mine but it would take me a while to understand that.

I visited the grave every day until school began. It was so hard to accept how inevitable death is when I was so full of life. Maybe Tommy always knew his body would betray him. The boy was always wise beyond his years.

At first I sat beside the mound and cried. Then slowly I began to understand that Tommy was beyond all this, that my tears were selfish. In the short time we had together, Tommy had shown me only the greatest love and understanding. How could I dishonor what we'd had by feeling sorry for myself? I would always know what love felt like because of him. I wanted to hold on to that love forever. The hardest thing to accept was that Tommy had stopped loving anything.

My life was full of his things. The books he had loaned me, the photos we had taken of ourselves down at the drugstore picture booth. Tommy was still here within the four walls of my bedroom. My shrine to eternal sadness.

I felt like these things were mocking me now but I couldn't give them up. The need to touch Tommy just once more was overwhelming. If only there had been a chance to say goodbye.

I know a little bit of me was buried with him. His mother told me he had the jade ring around his neck on a chain when he died and she refused to let the mortician remove it. My soul is in that ring. How fitting that Tommy's body will keep it now, and forever.

Three days after Labor Day I strode down the hallway past all the kids that had just arrived from Tommy's school. Turning a corner in the hallway, I came upon one of Dave's old cronies pushing a small boy up against the lockers. I lost it and I put the bastard in the hospital before I was done.

Because of that incident I boosted my reputation as a crazy man. But I wasn't Dave and never would be. Still, the new kids slid out of my way as I stomped down the hall in my boots. Their lives would be moving on, but I still wasn't sure where mine was going. I'm still looking.

* * *

There was silence in the car for several minutes. "So now you know," Alan said, his cheeks glistening with tears. "I've never told anyone the whole story before, I never felt the need. Thanks for listening."

John didn't hesitate. He reached out and pulled Alan towards him, hugging the boy to his chest. He wanted to comfort, to say that love was not gone forever. Tommy had only been the first. But he couldn't find his voice at that moment. His throat was choked with emotion as he squeezed Alan's limp body.

This was unlike anything John had ever felt before. Here in his arms was this beautiful boy who needed him. It scared him and yet it felt so right, so wonderful.

Alan snuggled against John's chest, accepting the hug for what it was, an attempt to heal. John's arms around him felt so good that he didn't want to move.

He had been carefully watching their relationship grow over the past several weeks. John's eyes had revealed a growing affection but there had also been hesitation. It was hard to read the boy. His Buddhist practice had built a wall that Alan couldn't always see through and that was intriguing.

He hadn't been sure how John would handle the story of his love for Tommy. Just revealing to anyone that he was gay was a milestone not to be taken lightly. John had projected only empathy when he described having sex with Tommy. Did that mean that John had been through his own experience? The wall was hard to penetrate. Only patience would give him what he wanted, but he knew that someday, John would finally tell him.