"Hi Ariana."
"Aaron! Why are you calling?"
"Dad told me you and Warren and the kids are going to move out west?"
"That's right we are. Are you pleased now? What's it to you?"
"Uh, well... I just wanted to call to say thanks to you and Warren for the extra money for school. I really appreciate it Ariana."
"What the hell are you talking about? Warren and I paid you what he owed you from the store. He didn't have much choice in the matter. I suppose this is sarcasm and gloating now because you're getting all that money from Mom and Dad for Algonquin and Warren and I are having to move because the store is going under."
"What are you talking about Ariana?" I say in total surprise.
"Oh don't give me that innocent, little baby brother crap Aaron! I don't need any spoiled brat shit from you. Thanks to you, Dad won't help us to get out from under what Warren owes his creditors. And it's all your fault! It's always about you isn't it Aaron? And now you have the nerve to call me. I know damned well you're going to waste every damned cent of that money they're handing over to you and will probably bitch all it away the first semester. You're not going to make it Aaron! You hear me? You're going to fail! I give you three months in that Program and you'll wind up dropping out. You and your damned homosexual friends are going to party with Mom and Dad's money and you'll probably wind up getting hepatitis or syphilis from screwing all your pick-ups. Thank God Warren and I are getting our kids away from you. Warren says they don't need to be exposed to a sick, potential child molester like you!"
My mouth is agape and the tears start to well up in my eyes and I say, "Ariana! Why would you say something like that? I thought you'd be happy for me that I am going back to school! Why are you being this way?"
"Look Aaron, I don't have time to deal with you and your creepy lifestyle and your stupid, gay ideas about becoming a famous decorator. I don't want to hear anything out of your dirty mouth. You should know by the way, I told Mom just what Warren and I thought about you and your choice to be a homosexual. Warren told me he wants nothing to do with you! I'm sorry you're my brother Aaron. Now, don't you call here again!"
She slams down the phone on her end. And I'm left standing, holding the receiver in complete shock and listening to the dial tone. I'm shaking and just can't hold back the tears. Mom is in the kitchen and as I rush past her to head up the back stairs she stops and looks at me and says, "What's wrong? What's happened Aaron?"
"Mom, I can't talk right now. I just need to go to my room and be alone."
"Was that you on the phone just now? Who was that you were talking to on the phone Aaron?"
"Ariana Mom. Please! I just need to be alone right now," I say, as tears start to roll down my face.
"Richard! I think you need to leave the office and come home right away. Aaron called Ariana and he's up in his room now crying. Please Richard, come home now!"
"Damn! I told him not to call her! I'll be there as soon as I can get away here."
"May I come in Aaron?" Richard says, as he slowly opens my bedroom door and looks over at me lying face-down on my bed. He comes over, sits on the corner of my bed and hands me a handkerchief.
Funny the things I always think of when it comes to my Dad. He never goes anywhere without a clean, white handkerchief in his pocket. "What are you doing home from work?" I ask him.
"Your Mom called me and told me you called your sister, son."
"I just wanted to say thank you to her for the money she and Warren gave me and ask her why they decided to move, and then maybe wish her good luck and tell her I'll miss her since I won't be here when they leave to go out west."
"What did she say to you Aaron?"
"Dad! She said to me she didn't want her kids around me, because I was a probably a child molester and sick and that I'm going to fail in school and probably get venereal disease. She said I was sick and perverted and Warren and she didn't want anything to do with me, because I chose to be the way I am!"
Just then Mom steps into the room and moves over to stand at the foot of my bed right behind where Dad is sitting. "Richard, we should have talked to him. He shouldn't have had to hear this from Ariana."
"Not now Viv. You go downstairs and get out that bottle of champagne we were going to open the night before Aaron was to take the bus up to Ottawa for school. I want to have a quiet talk with my son here. It's time honey. We'll be down when I'm done here."
"Sit up Aaron. There are a few things I want to say to you." My Dad says in a gentle voice.
"First off, you know that your Mom and I love you very much. You do know that, don't you son? That word is not an easy word for me to say."
"Yes, I know Dad."
"I know I've never been very good with you talking about sex and intimate, personal feelings in the past Aaron. I remember the time I tried to sit down with you when you were thirteen to give you the talk about the birds and the bees and you just looked at me and said, `Sure, what do you want to know Dad? What can I explain to you about it?' Well son, I just never knew how to talk to you or what else I could do after that except to give you that little pamphlet and tell you to keep yourself zipped up and not to let it out until you fell in love and got married. I was hoping your gym teacher Mr. Logrammer in high school would give you all the information you would need to know about sex in the boy's grade ten Health class. That was, until I found out he was having sex himself with his assistant male coach on the football team."
"Aaron, you know that we come from a long line of staunch Roman Catholics who grew up in Victorian England and who never spoke openly or freely about such things. When my parents died in England after World War One and my two older sisters and I were sent off to Canada from Liverpool to go work on farms and in kitchens for sponsoring Catholic families... well son, those times were very different from today. You need to understand that I come from that era. And it is still hard for me to express my feelings and talk about those things I now realize I should have said to both you and Ariana when you two were growing up."
"First off, I do love you son. Very much. Never forget that Aaron. That is a word that doesn't get spoken often in British households. But I want you to know that I always have and I always will."
"When you made the choice to stop attending Church with me at the age of sixteen, I prayed for you at that time and I still do to this day. My faith is everything to me Aaron and keeps me going son. I believe in God and I hope that you still do as well. This isn't easy for me to talk to you this way."
"I know Dad."
"You know the Church teachings and what the Bible says about Sodom and Gomorrah. Monsignor O'Neill from St. Francis has certainly had more than enough to say about that every damned Sunday from the pulpit in his sermons. You know the Ten Commandments and served as an Altar Boy for him for four years when you were in grade school. And you no doubt heard all kinds of talk and personal opinions and judgements about right and wrong from the Notre Dame Nuns and Catholic lay teachers at Saint Francis Xavier back then as well."
"Well Aaron, here is what I think is right. First off, and I've never said much about this to anyone else before, your Mother included. But for you now, I will. You remember the story I told you about how I worked for the first sixteen years of my life after coming to Canada at the farm for the Jordan family in Carleton Place. As an orphaned young boy, I saw all kinds of private and secret things that went on there. It didn't really make much difference to me though. And in hindsight, it wasn't any of my business as long as no one was being abused or hurt by what was happening. Live and let live Aaron."
"It took years, but eventually I was able to save up enough money and gain enough freedom and independence to move to Brockville on my own for the first time in my life to start training and working as an Orderly at the Psychiatric Hospital. I've seen a lot of good and bad in my life son. The Hospital and the patients and staff there have shown me a lot too. What I've come to learn over the years is that most of the good comes from kindness and wanting to help others' in this life. And most of the bad comes from unhappiness and wanting to judge or hurt others'. Don't hate you sister right now Aaron. She is having a hard time and is unhappy and needs to do whatever she must now to help herself and her children. Deep down, she still loves you son. Envy and greed are sins Aaron. Being who you are is not."
"Last time I read the Ten Commandments, I don't remember God saying to Moses, `Make an eleventh commandment forbidding any kind of love or physical intimacy outside of marriage, or with anyone other than a man and a woman.' I bet you are shocked by what I am saying to you here."
"You know Aaron, outside of the Ten Commandments, most of what is in the Bible in both the Old and New Testaments was written by the Apostles or by holy men, interpreting what they thought God was intending for his flock. And what in the world twelve long-haired, middle-aged, unmarried men were doing following Jesus around all the time... well... that's one Apostle for Jesus for each month of the calendar year! I could make a funny and blasphemous joke about that. But I don't think you're in much of a mood to appreciate the humor so we'll just leave it alone. Do you understand what I am trying to say to you son?"
"But Dad! What she said to me. It hurt so bad! I'd never hurt her kids!"
"I know that Aaron. Come here son." My Dad moves over closer and puts his arm around me and tries to comfort me, continuing to talk quietly and says, "Aaron, your Mom and I know that you didn't choose to be who you are. We do make choices in life, of course. But each of one of us is born into this world with a conscience and a soul. This to me, makes us all the same. It is God who determines and chooses what makes us all different and special. And I don't believe for one single second he would intentionally choose to make anyone less of a human being or less special or worthy of love than anyone else. It falls to us to take what he has given each of us... those traits and qualities that make us unique and special and make the most of them, without hurting either ourselves or others by doing so."
"Son, you are going to find in your life that there will be many, many people who think they are God and who will judge you. You need to be true to yourself and take whatever special gifts He has given you to make your life and the lives of those you touch the best that you can... the way you know He would want you to."
"Thanks Dad. I really do love you and Mom."
"We know that son. You prove that every day to us just by being who you are. Now, I want you to take the gifts and talents that God gave you and move ahead now with your life and make us both proud of you Aaron. We have faith in you and believe in you and know you are going to do great things when you start school and when you eventually graduate and go out into the world. And by the way, the world out there is a much bigger and more fascinating place than small-town Brockville, Ontario."
He just sits beside me for a couple of minutes more with his arm around my shoulder and then quietly adds, "And Aaron, I want you to know, the same holds true for Adam as well."
"You really like him, don't you Dad?"
"I do son. But, I think he needs a little push right now to get him back on the road I see in front of him. You be sure and tell him he is welcome in our house here any time. Now, let's go downstairs and check to make sure your Mom hasn't drunk all that champagne from the bottle I told her to open up. And from what Adam told me about you and your tolerance level for liquor, I'll keep an eye on your consumption at the same time."
"And Aaron, the talk we just had son. Well, it stays as just a father and son talk between the two of us for now, OK?"
"Yes Dad."
"Are things better now Richard?" Vivienne asks, as Dad and I come down the back stairs into the kitchen.
"They will be Viv."
"You know that we love you very much Aaron. You do know that, don't you? We'll always be here for you sweetie."
"Yes Mom. I do."
"Please try to forgive Ariana for whatever she said to you in anger on the phone Aaron. It may take a long time for healing and forgiveness. But brothers and sisters in the end are always there for each other when it comes down to what is important in life. I truly believe that and I hope that you will as well."
Two glasses of champagne, coupled with copious tears from Mom and emotional gush about how she is going to miss me so much when I'm gone and eventually I finally turn to Dad and say, "Is it OK if I go over to see Adam Dad?"
"Aaron, I've already told you that you don't need my permission to go see or spend time with him. If you need to go see him to talk, then you go on ahead and do that."
"His car really broke down badly again on him when he took me up to Brown's Bay for Labor Day. And he was so upset about it. I haven't really talked to him that much since his Mom had to come to get us and drive us both back to Brockville. Except for when he came up to Ottawa to help you and me with moving my stuff and all. And we really didn't talk much to each other then. He hasn't called me either. I just want to make sure he's OK and ask him if he'll maybe take the bus up with me to Ottawa to finish with my unpacking and stay overnight with me before the Tuesday when I start classes. I'm just going to go and walk over to his place and see if he's OK."
Its three blocks north up Bethune Street from our house and then a twenty minute walk down Pearl Street heading west until I get to Adam's place. I'm still thinking about everything my Dad said to me and with each passing block, feel a little better about everything he said. And I'm really glad he included Adam in what he was trying to tell me. I'll tell Adam what Dad said about coming over to the house on his own when I move up to Ottawa. I think he'd really appreciate that.
Crossing Perth Street and coming close to Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson's house on Pearl Street West, I can see the back of Adam's old, dead, rusting-out, silver grey SST. It's sticking its prominent rear end out onto the sidewalk and overtaking the driveway. Well, at least he was able to get it towed back and parked OK. I'll surprise him and just go up and knock on the door.
I head up the exterior stairs on the side of Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson's garage and knock on Adam's front door. The place is in total darkness inside and after several minutes it's obvious he's not there.
I just don't want to go back home right now. I don't want to be alone by myself in my room. I'm tired and I want Adam to talk to right now. The only thing I can think of to do is climb into his car and wait for him to come back from wherever he is. He won't mind if I curl up in his front seat and just wait for him. Good. He's left his jacket in his car. I can use it for a pillow like he's told me he's had to do sometimes and smell him and feel warm and safe and pretend he's tight beside me. A half hour later and I am fast asleep in his car with his jacket over me as a blanket and all I can smell is his comforting man scent.
It's 12:30am in the morning, and I wake up to hear the two long, loud horn blasts from the VIA Rail overnight sleeper car passenger train starting to head out of Brockville station and head on to Toronto from Montreal. It's passing the Perth Street railway crossing on its way west.
I wake up holding a tear-dampened sleeve of Adam's jacket up to my face with my thumb and forefinger slowly rubbing the rough texture of the fabric. Then I slowly start to figure out where I am and what led to me being there.
As I start to come to a state of full waking consciousness, I realize Adam is quietly sitting beside me in his driver's seat with his right arm stretched out along the back of it, stroking my hair with his left hand and gazing down at me. How he managed to lift me up and slide in beside me without waking me up is a total mystery.
"Aaron, I came home after midnight and looked in my car before heading up to my place and found ya' asleep in it. Babe what's wrong? You have an argument with your Mom and Dad or somethin'? Or didya' just miss smelling and feelin' up my sweaty old suit jacket sleeve there?"
"Oh Adam! I missed you. Something really, really bad happened with my sister Ariana and me today. And then my Dad and Mom talked to me. I just needed to see you and you weren't home. And I... well, I just needed to see and talk and be with you! And you weren't here."
"Well honey, I was over with my Mom earlier. I've been watchin' ya' cry in your sleep and mumble stuff down there for the past half hour. C 'mere baby. Sit up and shift over closer to me. How's about I get ya' upstairs, and then you can tell me all about it?"
"I'm too tired to talk now. Can I please, please just come up and stay the night with you and we'll talk tomorrow in the morning?"
"Do your Mom and Dad know where ya' are right now baby?"
"Yes. I told them I was coming over here to see you."
"OK babe. Let's get ya' upstairs then." Once inside the door, I reach to hug him as tightly as I can and then say, "Will you just hold onto me in bed tonight, please Adam?"
"Sure thing cookie. C'mon, let's climb into my warm bed. You'll feel better next to me and after a good night's sleep under the covers."
Delphine Blanchard is one strikingly beautiful woman. It's obvious who Adam got his looks from when you meet his Mother. I sort of remember that actress Ava Gardner' from a couple of movies. One was called Night of The Iguana' with Richard Burton'. And then there was that Bluebird' movie l saw her in last year along with Elizabeth Taylor' and Jane Fonda'. Picture her in those and you'll have the image of one sultry, sensuous, voluptuous and earthy woman. Those words serve to capture Delphine perfectly.
"Mom, thanks again for coming to get Aaron and me from Brown's Bay last Saturday," says Adam to his Mom. "It cost me another seventy-five goddamn bucks to have Gerry tow my car back to Prentice ESSO and then back to my place. He checked it all over. It needs a brand new electric fuel pump, starter, ignition solenoid and carburetor adjustment. And he said there's a slow leak in the gas tank and the tires are practically bald in the back. It's gonna' cost me more than eight hundred and fifty bucks to fix it! I guess I'm gonna' hafta' get rid of it Mom. I just can't afford to keep pumping money into that old piece a' crap car. I don't know what I'm gonna' do now though. Gerry told me there was some guy in Merrickville who was looking for a parts car to fix up his old Ambassador to restore it and take it to car shows. He said he'd give the guy a call to see if he'd come and take it away and maybe give me a few bucks to take it off my hands. Gerry said he'd even tow the car away for free, just to help me out. I think that's what I'm gonna' hafta' do Mom. But after that, I'll just hafta' walk, I guess."
"Adam, do you remember when you and I sat around this table and had hot chocolate together when you were young and we'd talk?" says Delphine.
"Uhm, yeah... I do Mom."
"You haven't come to really sit down and talk with me in a long time. It's good to know you feel you can still come and talk to me even though you're a grown man now."
"Adam, how do you feel about your friend Aaron leaving Brockville and going back to school in Ottawa?"
"Uhm Mom, well... I'm really gonna' miss the kid. I know he's a lot younger than me. But I got to know him pretty well in a really short time. And I just feel so bad now about losing both my car and him at the same time. My car always reminded me of Dad. And not having it now is like havin' to go through him leavin' us all over again. And now having Aaron leaving this coming week and heading off to school... well, I just feel really sad and alone right now. It's like everyone and everything is movin' forward, and I'm stuck here in Brock Vegas and not goin' anywhere."
"Adam, I had lunch a while back with Aaron's Mother."
"I didn't know that Mom. You didn't tell me about any lunch with her."
"Well Adam, Vivienne called and suggested we get together to talk a bit about our boys. You know she's depressed right now because she's afraid to let him go. I remember feeling the exact same way with you when you moved away and started pharmacy assistant training in Kingston. It's hard to let go."
"What else did she have to say?"
"Just that she and Mr. Christie were so glad you and Aaron were friends and that she felt Brockville was not the place for either of you to be stuck in for the rest of your lives. And I happen to agree with her too. She knows that with Aaron. But all the same, it's still hard for her to let go. Adam, I want you to bring Aaron over here so I can get to really meet him before he leaves for school. I know I've been busy with my life and work these past few months. And you may likely already suspect this, but I've been seeing Sebastien Forestier from the Hospital over the past few months. He works there as an Orderly. I've wanted to keep that quiet and discreet though, because we both work at the Hospital and people in this town gossip and seem to know everyone else's business. `Bast' is usually over here when you come to the house now so it's time you knew what's what. And Adam, it's just so good to have someone in my life again after so many years of being alone. That's what I want for you too Adam."
"Thanks Mom. I sorta' already kinda' knew about you and Mr. Forestier."
After a long pause, Adam hesitates and then says quietly, "Uh, Mom, you know I'm gay, don't you?"
Delphine pauses and gives Adam a long, reflective look and eventually says, "Adam, I've known that since you were eleven. I know we've never sat down and talked about it. And you've never come to me and said anything until now. I want you to be happy darling. I don't understand why you are the way you are. But it isn't for me to judge or tell you who to be or how to live your life. Acceptance is different from understanding. I love you Adam. And I'll always be here for you to talk to and support you, in whatever you do and in whatever way you must to live your life. I want you to know that."
"I love Aaron Mom."
"He's very young Adam. What is he? Nineteen? Twenty? He has his whole life ahead of him and is barely an adult. I don't want you to get hurt darling. With him moving up to Ottawa, things are going to change drastically in his life. That being said though, his Mother and I want you both to continue to see each other. Vivienne said to me she's happy Aaron has someone like you to be a mentor to him and hopefully watch over him when he's in school. It's not going to be easy for either one of you. Distance and time can change people. And yes Adam... Viv knows about you and Aaron too."
"What did she tell you?"
"Not much. We didn't have to say all that much to each other. Mothers know their sons and she has the same fears and concerns for him as I have for you. She likes you though Adam, very much. And she's hoping you'll keep Aaron motivated and focused on his schoolwork and be there for him to keep him out of trouble."
"Not sure how I'm gonna' be able to do that, now that I don't have my wheels anymore and he's gonna' be so far away."
"You'll have weekends when Aaron will either come home or isn't busy with his schoolwork. It's not going to be easy. But if you really care about him, then you'll just have to be patient and hope that things will all work out. And Adam, I'll lend you the car here when I'm not using it to go up and see him whenever you need to. I can't do much more than that except to tell you again that I love you and that you are both welcome here any time. And again, I want you to bring him over soon to meet me and Bast.
"Thanks. Mom. I love you too. I feel a lot better now talking to you."
"Well Adam, you know you can always come and talk to me. I hope you realize that now darling."
Later that night Delphine and Sebastien are in bed together when she turns to him and says, "Well Bast, Adam finally told me he is gay. Bast, he doesn't know about... well you know, about when Tom disappeared and all the talk at the hospital about why. All I could think of to say to him was to go and look for the same happiness I've been able to find with you over these past months."
"That's good Del. I know you love him. And that's all he ever needs to know. You know Del, I'll never understand what makes us fall in love with the people we do. All I know is that love can come at unexpected times with the people we least expect, and in surprising ways to us all."
Adam shows up at the bus station with a huge backpack filled with some tools, a rolled-up sleeping bag and a change of clothes to hop the bus with me up to Ottawa. He's wearing tight jeans, a royal blue tee-shirt with a Superman logo on the front of it and a pair of bright red running shoes. "Did ya' pick up the tickets for us yet Aaron?"
"Yeah, I did Adam. I'm glad you were able to get the time off to come up with me before I have to start school on Monday."
"I'll fix somethin' up for us to eat in that postage stamp kitchen of yours when we finish with setting up your armoire and after you buy a mattress and drafting board from Wallack's. It's gonna' be fun goin' with you to Colonial Furniture to test out mattresses together!"
"Uhm, by testing, I hope you mean just lying down on them to gauge their softness or firmness and nothing else."
"Well, maybe a little bit of bouncing up and down to make sure the one you pick is gonna' be strong enough to handle the action and abuse I plan to give it with you and me baby. But, so as I don't embarrass ya' in front of the sales clerk, I'll keep my clothes on when I do. OK cookie boy?"
Oh God!
"Jeez' Aaron! I had no idea a drafting board and supplies were gonna' cost ya' that much," says Adam, as he checks the price tickets on the ones I`ve been comparing. "And that drafting thing... what did ya" call it again, a Paradraft or a Mayline? Jeezus fuck! That thing alone is three hundred bucks!"
"The tuition is cheap compared with what the cost of materials and supplies are going to be. I knew that coming into the Program. At least the drafting board and Paradraft and a stool and most of the other stuff I'm going to need are going to be one-time purchases. And since I was able to qualify for a Student Grant from the Ontario Government, most of that money will offset some of the more expensive items I'm going to have to get to do some of my assignments from home and not have to live in the classroom 24/7 the way some of the other students will have to."
"If you say so babe. Now let's head on over to Colonial Furniture and check out those mattresses!"
Colonial Furniture is on Bank Street and down about two blocks from Wallack's Art and Drafting Supplies and Equipment. "May I help you gentlemen?" says the female clerk as we walk into the store. Adam takes over completely from me and says, "Yeah, well maybe. I'm looking for a good, strong, durable mattress and box spring set that's gonna' get subjected to a lot of heavy-duty, big-time action. Something on the extra firm, hard side and not so expensive and rinky-dink that I'm gonna' be afraid to really use and abuse it and wear it out, if you catch my meaning."
The clerk colours up a bit and tells Adam that the mattresses are up on the second floor. "If you need any help at from me all, my name is Pauline. I'll be more than happy to help you," as she stares down at Adam's prominent bulge with no doubt, wild sexual images and fantasies running through her feverish little head.
"`Rinky-dink' Adam?" I say to him with a questioning look, as we walk away.
"Figured it'd make her look at my big, hairy crotch there baby and get her all juicy. Works every time cookie!" he says to me and laughs, as we head up the stairs and stare across a football-field size room filled with mattresses and cheap laminate and wood veneer bedroom furniture suites.
"Once you pick what we're gonna' sleep together on, I'll give her one of my flashy smiles and a look and I'll betcha' we'll wind up getting a discount from her and maybe even free delivery later on today so we won't hafta' sleep on the floor tonite!" Four hundred dollars later and a promise from star-struck Pauline that yes, the mattress will `of course' be on a Colonial Furniture truck out for delivery later that afternoon and Adam and I head back to my apartment on Argyle.
The armoire goes back together fairly quickly, thanks to the tools Adam thought to bring up with him. And finally, a curtain rod gets securely screwed into the top of the frame around the window. The mattress arrives just after 4:00pm and we have drapes on the window and almost everything put away by dinnertime.
Watching Adam standing on top of the steam-heat radiator in front of the window, with his long legs spread, a power drill in his hand and his hard, sexy man ass facing me while he installs the curtain rod is like XXX-rated pornography!
"I'm just gonna' head out over to Boushey's Food Market around the corner on Elgin to see what I can scare up for us to eat. It won't be fancy since you don't have much of a kitchen or stuff to work with. But I promise I'll make somethin' that won't give us food poisoning. OK babe?"
"OK Adam. I've just got a few more things to unpack out of these last boxes and I'll help you when you get back."
"When the fuck did ya' ever get a chance to take a picture of me Aaron?" says Adam, as he stares at the small framed photo of him in his brown suit I've placed on the mantel of the fireplace. "Uhm, well, Adam... I snuck my camera into the store one day a few months ago before I actually met you and took it when your head was turned and were busy with a customer. I know that sounds creepy. And I have to admit, I felt like some kind of pervert stalker just after I took it. But I just really wanted to have your picture to look at when I was alone in my room and needed something showing you to jerk off to."
"Jeezus cookie! You always manage to surprise and shock me baby. Do ya' want me to autograph that one babe? Hmm, actually Aaron... I'll getcha' a much better one than that the next time I come up, OK? Do ya' want a life-size, full length nude shot or will just a close up of my `King Kong' dong be good enough for ya'?"
Then he drags me over to the new, as yet unmade bed, grabs me by the shoulders, slowly and purposefully lowers me gently down onto my new mattress with him climbing on top of me, and says very seriously, "Uhm, I think dinner's gonna' hafta' wait for a bit `cause I have other plans for you and me at the moment."
Three hours later, and Adam and I sit naked, cross-legged and facing each other on the rug in front of the fireplace, while dining on the chicken breasts and pre-cooked `cuppa' noodles' he was able to mix in with them and prepare on my tiny old stove... with candles casting a soft glow all around us in the room. I can't think of a more romantic way to have dinner.
After cleaning up and washing the dishes in the old, white porcelain sink and putting them away on the open shelves above, Adam undresses slowly in front of me, heads over to the bed, pulls the freshly-made covers back and climbs in. He pats the spot beside him and motions for me to join him.
"These red satin sheets are really kinda' slithery and cold-feeling Aaron. Gonna' hafta' get you some new ones babe. And, uh, remember... I'll need to be at the bus station for 7:30am in the morning to catch the bus back to Brockville. And you'll be needing to get yourself all pretty and cleaned up, ready and dressed for your first class for 8:30am. I'll have some instant coffee ready for you when I wake ya' up. You're gonna' be just fine on your own tomorrow babe. I wantcha' to give me a call when Bell comes to install your phone later this week. I'm gonna' hafta' work this coming weekend. But we can talk on the phone and you can tell me all about your first week. And I'll be able to come up the following weekend to spend it all with you, OK Aaron?"
"Mmm... thanks for everything Adam," I whisper to him, as I pull the covers up and eventually find a comfortable spot with my face nestled into his armpit, my arm across his chest, my leg bent at the knee and rubbing against his warm, hairy man basket in our brand new bed.
Sleep comes slowly though as I have so many thoughts running through my brain about my pending first day back in school at Algonquin.
8:17am in the morning and here I am, walking into the school, my first day at Algonquin.
I discover to my dismay that the cafeteria on the Campus is comprised of seven rusted-out vending machines, along with chipped, plastic laminate, mismatched tables and orange and yellow `sixties plastic chairs in varying states of disrepair. There are cracked plastic ashtrays, overflowing with stale-smelling cigarette butts on most of the tables. And judging from the look of the plastic, shrink-wrapped sandwiches in the vending machines, I'm guessing that even the rats and mice would turn their noses up at them. I mean really... whoever imagined that a ham sandwich could have grey meat? Fifty cents for a paper cup of coffee that looks and tastes like coloured water, and then I head off to the First Year classroom in the south part of the Main Building to meet my fellow classmates and sign attendance for orientation.
"Good morning. `Hmm... izzzn't it'?"
"For those of you who haven't met me yet, my name is Camilla... Camilla Mezaros. Most of you von't need to remember it though, because you von't be here at the end of this semester."
Camilla spends the next ten minutes repeating her diatribe about the high attrition rate and how many drop-outs she expects by the end of November. Everyone seems to be trying to surreptitiously check everyone else out in the room to make their own judgements about who is going to survive and who will likely drop-out of the Program. Not exactly a great way to start the first day, I think to myself as I scan the room and do a quick count of just how many other students are in the room with me.
I count twenty-one other students, in ages from nineteen to forty-five or so... two other guys and the rest are all women.
"I vant you all to tell us your name and why you vant to be an Interior Designer, `hmm... izzzn't it'." Camilla finally says, after completely depressing every single person in the room.
Out of everyone, there are only five other students who even remotely look to me that they know what they've gotten themselves into and who've piqued my curiosity. The two guys of course, since we three are clearly the visible minority males in the class and then three women, all in their early to mid-twenties. As each one of them says their name and gives a brief overview of why they decided to enroll in the Program, I scribble each name down so I`ll be able to remember them. Aleyn Kinzinger, Colin Erikschöenn, Lynne Bergeron, Lorita Weissman and Melora Payne.
Aleyn Kinzinger is the first of the five to have a chance to speak.
He's the son of a retired Canadian Ambassador who served out his last posting in some Soviet Block region I can barely pronounce, let alone spell. Aleyn still works as a window display and merchandising assistant for the Hudson's Bay Company. He's decided to take a six month unpaid leave of absence from The Bay to decide if he wants to pursue a more challenging career in some form of creative design. I have to admit, he's sexy and sophisticated. Long, curling almost black hair with a Tom Sellick' moustache and an oh, isn't it all just so incredibly boring' way of speaking that would either intrigue or repel anyone who heard him. Somehow I get the distinct impression he wouldn't give a damn one way or the other whether they did or not. He's wearing a pure white silk shirt, unbuttoned half-way down to his navel and has a well-tended forest of dark, not too thick chest hair clearly visible and just waiting for someone to run their fingers through it. His shoulders look like they could support a steel girder. His pants look like they are molded onto his thighs and I don't dare look down at his basket, although I have to admit the thought is certainly running through my mind.
OK Aaron, get your thoughts off his moustache and chest hair and just pay attention to what he's saying. And then I look at his eyes which are just as dark as mine, almost black in fact and suddenly realize he's making eye contact more with me than anyone else in the classroom. I'm sure I'm blushing. So I look down and just try to listen and focus on what he's telling Camilla and the class about himself. My ears really perk up though when he casually mentions that his parents live just east of Maitland on an old stone estate I remember well and now go right past on the bus up to Ottawa on its route from Brockville. His parent's stone house with the curved stone stairs leading up to the front door and the adjacent carriage house is only about ten miles or so east of my parent's house in Brockville. And the other interesting bits of information I remember are that he only lives about three blocks away from me on Elgin Street in a pre-war, heritage-designated, three-story, walk up building with leaded, diamond-pane glass windows and that he has an Afghan Hound named `Dietrich'.
The next one to speak is Lorita Weissman.
I will admit my opportunities to get to know or even meet anyone Jewish in small-town English Catholic and Protestant Brockville were few and far between. I'm guessing that both Aleyn and Lorita are Jewish. And when Lorita starts to talk about herself and why she enrolled in the Program, every dumb stereotype assumption I was ever told by every stupid person who never, ever really actually knew anyone Jewish back in Brockville come back to haunt me as she speaks. Lorita talks with fast, nervous insecurity and pauses after every sentence to, I'm guessing seek approval or positive reaction and affirmation before she continues on with her rambling story of how her mother wanted her to do something creative and make her proud, because she could have been a famous Designer herself if she'd had the chance. I could see Camilla's eyes start to roll and glaze over after three minutes of this and then she cut Lorita short and said to her, "If I'd vanted to hear vhat your Mother had to say, I vould have enrolled her in the Program! You're done now hmm... izzzn't it'!" An audible gasp from Lorita, and then she appears to visibly shrink into a pile of big, fuzzy black hair, turquoise mohair and tight, white bejewelled jeans on her drafting stool.
Melora Payne is next.
Melora was studying Political Science at Ottawa University and planning for a career in the Federal Government ranks of senior civil servants. But she always had an interest in Interior Design and decided to take a break to pursue design. As she speaks, Camilla is quiet and paying respectful attention to what Melora is saying. I get the distinct impression that Melora wouldn't take any crap from Camilla. It was at this moment I decided I liked Melora very much. If she'd had a `wire' Camilla wouldn't be pointing at it and telling her she was meek I kept thinking to myself, as Melora continues on with her confident and polished self-introduction.
Then Lynne Bergeron starts to talk about herself.
Lynne's father is an interior decorating consultant in Ottawa and has a showroom and store in the east end of the city on Cyrville Road that sells high-end upholstered furniture and offers custom furniture reupholstery services. Lynne's history is a bit similar to mine in that she worked for her Dad in his store and from that experience, decided she wanted to investigate the Interior Design Program at Algonquin with the objective of becoming a bonafide professional Interior Designer to help her Dad expand his clientele base and business. Lynne is focused and I can tell just by listening to her she has discipline and clear expectations and goals from what she wants to achieve in the Program. On top of this, Lynne is absolutely beautiful with intense blue eyes and from her clothes, makeup and general demeanor, looks like she shops in all the most exclusive and expensive fashion boutiques in Montreal.
Colin Erikschöenn is the last to speak in the class.
Colin chose a seat as far back as he could in the classroom and sat far back on his drafting stool with his legs spread as far open as he possibly could, while pretending he didn't notice that Camilla kept staring back at his prominent crotch bulge every three minutes. Needless to say, Colin was gorgeous. Tall, with dirty blond hair and obviously straight, I'm sure that Colin's looks have made up for any intellectual or creative shortcomings in his life up to now. I keep thinking about those people who seem to be able to cruise through life without ever actually having to work at anything to achieve success. Even though Camilla might have moist panties looking at him right now, I just wonder how he's going to make it through this Program if he thinks he can flirt his way through every assignment. Then I have a bitchy, jealous thought and say to myself, I just bet Camilla never pointed to his' cock and told him he needed to get his' wire up... even though she probably would want him to in another place and time.
Once all the introductions are done and we've been handed out a barely legible photocopy map of the Campus and assigned lockers and fixed drafting board and seat spots in the First Year English student classroom, Camilla finally begins to run out of steam and tells us to turn our stools in the other direction. The folding wall between the two classrooms opens up. And we are now facing Elizabeth Mountebank who is about to start with our first class in Design Basics and Colour Theory.
Usually, these classes I eventually came to understand, consisted of anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half of lecture and practical instruction with the rest of the three to four hours devoted to individual critique sessions between the Professor and the student on whatever the assignment was for that week. Students always fought each other to get the best crit' times and if you were forced to wait until the end of a class you usually got stuck with a brain-dead Instructor who tended to regurgitate unoriginal and humdrum design concepts and recommendations that would likely wind up getting you a D' or worse, an F' when it came time to hand in the finished work. I could see that this was going to be a brutal and competitive environment. My wire was starting to pay attention.
I was to discover later, the fabled life story of Elizabeth Mountebank. Her chief claim to fame was that of being a nubile, young, Carnaby Street girl in a micro mini-skirt and white go-go boots, dancing her way through London in the early and mid-sixties to Herman's Hermits' and The Rolling Stones'. She had a clipped, posh British accent and apparently, some kind of obscure Fine Arts education that helped her land this teaching gig for her in the Design Program. I'm sure that in her mind she is still as skinny as Twiggy and just as fashionable, wearing her op-art jewelry and traffic-stopping, bold graphic-pattern inspired clothes. To me she just looked like some forty-something year old, tired-looking `Diana Rigg' clone in complete and total denial.
By the end of the first day, I had two assignments dumped on me with the clear instruction from both Camilla and Elizabeth to use their name when buying materials from Wallack's Art and Drafting Supplies' No doubt they each either got a kick-back from Wallack's for what they were able to sell us or the Interior Design Program was benefitting financially somehow.
Narcissistic Lesson One in Interior Design: Always look for a discount, never give anything away for free and always look for acknowledgement whenever giving a recommendation. I was certainly beginning to learn.
My trip to Wallacks to pick up what I needed for Camilla's and Elizabeth's assignments was first and foremost on the agenda. One hundred and forty dollars later and then I head back to my apartment to start to get to work.
Camilla's assignment dealt with abstract two-dimensional planes. No... not the ones that fly. But rather, what she had told us in class about points, lines, planes and volumes which are the primary elements of design. I had an idea about circles increasing and decreasing in size, made from what Camilla told us, had to be thick white Bainbridge board. The idea was to use the two-dimensional planes to create a three-dimensional sculpture that could be viewed from all sides and that flowed smoothly from each viewing angle.
Cutting thick, white Bainbridge board with a geometric compass and an X-Acto knife blade became an exercise in masochism after the twentieth circle. For every perfectly cut circle, four wound up being either ruined or dirty and had to be thrown out. Camilla's last comment to us when we left the class was that craftsmanship and perfection were as important as the concept we were trying to convey. I worked throughout the evening and until 4:00am in the morning just to get the circles all cut into different sizes and ready to take in to have a crit' later on that week with her.
Elizabeth's first assignment was to have us all go out to different paint stores to pick up paint chip colour samples. We were to look for harmonious colours and then do up twelve 1/2" x 4" bands on a piece of Bainbridge board, using no less than three colours per strip. The final effect was to look like semaphore signals, or flags, or military medal ribbons. The idea was to achieve pleasing colour combinations, using both similar and contrasting colours in varying degrees of size and width within the bands. And once again, craftsmanship and perfection were important for the final submission.
I visited six different paint shops to get whatever paint chip samples I could lay my hands on. This took almost as long as doing the actual assignment! It wasn't until much, much later that I clued into what some of the other students had done... namely spending money to buy what was called an Architect's Colour Fan Paint Deck which showed perfectly gradated colours and virtually all the colours I would need in order to complete this assignment. I really wish I had scammed a couple of those paint decks from my brother-in-law's store back in Brockville when I'd had the opportunity.
In the end I simply ran out of time to complete Elizabeth's assignment and wound up using fluorescent colours and some really intense, bright ones like safety orange, and chromium yellow' that really did not work well together at all. As a result I received an F' for my very first assignment with her and an official note on College letterhead informing me that, as men were more likely to be colour-blind' than women and in view of the assignment I had just handed in, I was to go to the College Medical Clinic as soon as possible to be tested for colour-blindness!
As an aside, I was later told that Elizabeth was a very bitter and unhappy woman, because her long-time boyfriend and partner had left her for a young gay man several years before.
Camilla's crit' sessions with me went somewhat better. We played around with the circles in class together and I explained to her what my thinking was. She was reasonably pleasant and receptive to what I was trying to do. Her one comment was to remember that whatever I did, time and effort were always important factors.
"You may have the best idea in the world. But if it takes more time to achieve than vhat your client is villing to pay for, then you must edit and not do something for nothing, `hmm... izzzn't it'." This was her parting morsel of wisdom to me before all the student's models were to be completed and presented in class the next week.
There were other memorable moments I took away from the rest of my classes that first week.
Gordon Goodrich... a stiff, pompous and somewhat overbearing, proper British gentleman wearing ill-fitting grey flannel pants and looking as starched and stiff as his Oxford cloth dress shirt, took great delight in telling everyone that no one who was left-handed like me would ever receive a grade higher that a `C" in his class as they could not draw without smearing their work when working from left to right. Then he handed out an assignment for architectural lettering on a huge sheet of white velum that I just knew would take hours and hours to complete.
Lynda Naagy-Birdsong upon first impression, seemed to me to be as flighty as her name. Again, we got the life story of everything we never needed to know about her. Blonde, carefully coiffed and on the far side of forty, Lynda was yet another one with some kind of undefined Fine Arts training and background. She took great pains to explain to us that yes, while married to some high-level Federal Government Deputy Minister and not needing to really work, she was merely teaching as a time-filler and hobby, because she felt that her talent just simply could not go to waste and as such felt compelled to share it with us, her students.
The only one out of all the Professors and Instructors who seemed to be whatever passed for normal in this Program was Alan Closer. He was in his mid-forties, had a full Ernest Hemmingway beard, a deep baritone voice and a patient, engaging manner. Out of all the first week classes and assignments handed out, I felt that his was the most valuable as he in fact, actually did have an Architectural and Design background and education and had worked for a major Toronto real estate developer doing hotel planning before he joined the Faculty in the Design Program.
God! What the hell have I got myself into with these people?! I wish I had my phone installed now, because I really need to talk to Adam and Mom and Dad.
"Thanks for the easy-to-remember phone number. My older sister can only remember simple numbers, so I think that 233-0330 with only three numbers for her to remember will work out just fine. And yes, if the installer can come later in the week to hook up my red Contempra wall phone that would be perfect. Thursday afternoon would be great. Thanks!"
As I leave the Bell Telephone service kiosk in the Billing's Bridge Mall I think to myself, thank God Adam gave me that spiel about having a mentally-challenged family member to score a good phone number. God, I wish he was here with me right now.
"Heya' cookie boy! You got your phone installed, I'm guessin'?"
"Hi Adam, uhm, yes. I did this afternoon and my number here is the same area code as you with the numbers 233-0330. Thanks for the advice about getting an easy-to-remember phone number. It worked out perfectly."
"Told ya' baby. I'm not just a pretty face, ya' know."
"Well actually you are, but I prefer your big cock and your sexy man butt and I wish they were up here right now with me. I miss you!"
"Aww, cookie boy! I miss you too... big time."
Twenty minutes of conversation starts to wind up with Adam telling me he's jerking himself off on the other end of the phone line toward the end. And then I say goodbye with a promise to meet him the following weekend at the Catherine Street bus stop when the bus from Brockville pulls in, right after 9:00pm.
A new week and more assignments, and Camilla's class starts first thing on Monday morning. I walk into the class, only to find that Aleyn Kinzinger is now occupying the drafting stool right beside me, having bribed Natalie Portlander to exchange places with him.
"Hi Aaron! Figured we guys should stick together in this class. Hope you don't mind me sitting beside you?"
"Uhm, no... I guess that's OK."
"You and I live close to each other. And I know where your house is in Brockville. It's a quaint little place your parents have there. Uh, maybe we could go to the Coral Reef Club or to Sac's in Hull... or the Lord Elgin sometime. That is, when we don't have any assignments to do."
"I promised my boyfriend Adam I'd let him take me to those places," I respond.
"Well maybe some time when he isn't around then," says Aleyn.
"Shhh, Aleyn. We'd better pay attention. Camilla is coming in right now."
"Vel, good morning class, hmm... izzzn't it'. Let's see `vhat you've all been able to do for your first abstract planes assignment... "
Camilla has a long, wooden rod in her hand and is wearing that ridiculous red velvet bow tie. Aleyn leans over and whispers in my ear, "Well at least she has her lips on straight today."
As Camilla walks up and down the long tables where each student has placed their Bainbridge board assignments, she takes her rod and starts to smash some of them and knock them off the table as she proceeds to the front of the classroom.
"Carap, gaaarrrbage, sheeeet! If I'd vanted something that looks like it vas copied out of the Elements of Design' textbook, I vould' have said that! No! Carap! You've missed the point! `Vhat the hell is that supposed to be?"
One by one, projects that would have taken at least ten hours for each student to complete land on the floor and break apart. She gets to Lorita Weissman's project and stops for a moment. "Nope! Vhat is it? Gaaarrrbage!" It lands on the floor and falls apart into small pieces. "It actually looks better that vay. `Hmm... izzzn't it'." she exclaims as Lorita gets up and rushes out of the room in tears.
"Let's see if ve can pick up the pieces and make something good out of this piece of carap."
Fifteen minutes later and Camilla has managed to take Lorita's project and manipulate the pieces to create a beautiful work that flows from all angles and appears to meet all of the prerequisites of what the assignment was supposed to represent in the first place.
"Now, when Miss Weissman gets off the telephone crying to her Mama, vil someone tell her to glue these pieces back together exactly the way I've arranged them and I vil give her a D' for the assignment? Hmm... yes... izzzn't it'."
When Camilla got to my model she did exactly the same with the notable exception of knocking it off the table with her wooden rod. Twenty-five minutes later, after she had performed a total autopsy on my model and left it in pieces, she said to me, "Now Aaron, put it back together again exactly the way I have left it and I vil give you a D' just like Lorita Weissman."
I just looked at her at that point and I don't know where I found the balls to blurt it out. But, I said to her, "In your first class, didn't you tell us `not' to do something for nothing?"
Camilla stared at me for a couple of long, uncomfortable moments and then said, "Vel, vhat do you `vant?"
I replied, "A grade `B'."
I got both a `B' and respect from her from that moment on.
`Vel... izzzn't that just great'.
There is something very seedy and dirty about the Ottawa Voyageur Colonial bus station in Ottawa after 9:00pm in the evening. The fluorescent lights give everyone a grey skin pallor. The smell of diesel fumes is nauseating and the shrill, rasping loudspeaker announcing arrivals and departures was grating.
Finally, the bus from Brockville carrying Adam arrives, and not a moment too soon for me as I am not comfortable with the old men cruising me and the endless stream of disenfranchised people coming and going.
"Heya' Aaron!" he says, as he spots me in the waiting area and heads over to give me a big hug. "I missed ya' baby. I wanted to give you a chance to get yourself all settled in classes so I didn't call ya'. But now this weekend is just you and me. I missed ya' so much."
I didn't go to the grocery store yet Adam. I'm sorry, but there isn't anything in the fridge and I haven't had any time to get a bottle of wine or anything. I'm really sorry."
"Awww babe, don't give it a second thought. You and I can head over to the IGA on Isabella tomorrow and I'll get ya' all set up for food for the next couple of weeks and we can have a nice romantic dinner, just the two of us. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like I want you up here all the time Adam. God I missed you too, so much."
He laughs and gives me one of his dazzling smiles. And suddenly, all of the challenges and disappointments and hard work over the past week at school seem to fade into a foggy, dim haze.
He's wearing a well-worn black leather bomber jacket and those same pair of man ass-accentuating dark jeans I remember him wearing when he came over to first meet my Mom and Dad. A black turtleneck sweater and his trademark red running shoes complete the look. That familiar scent of `Eau Sauvage' mingling with his own unique man scent envelope me as he hugs me one more time before we leave the bus station to walk the four blocks over to Argyle.
Just outside the front entrance of the bus stop there is a dark alcove. Adam suddenly drags me into it and drops his knapsack and pulls me into him for a passionate, deep, demanding kiss. At the same time he is grinding his half-hard Chewbacca light sabre into me and whispering, "Fuck baby, just hadta' do that `cause I don't think I coulda' walked all the way to your place with the big boner I got when I first saw ya' waitin' for me when I hopped off the bus! Hell, I missed you baby!"
"I missed you too."
"By the way Aaron, I bought ya' some new sheets for that nice new bed of yours. No more slithering around like horny snakes on those red satin things you've got. The only snake in your bed is gonna' be the big one between my legs tonite cookie boy! And we're gonna' be nice and warm and toasty this evening with what I got ya'. Consider them a housewarming gift there baby."
"As long as there is some red in them, I'll like them."
"You'll be seeing lotsa' red and all the colours of the rainbow when I'm done with ya' in bed later. Now let's hike it over to your place now."
The minute we get in the door to my place I say, "Adam? Tonite, maybe could we try chapter eleven?"
"Whadya' mean Aaron? Ya' wanna' go bankrupt baby?" he replies, and then starts to laugh.
"No, Adam! I want to have you lying down on the bed on your back so I'll able to straddle you. I read that if I do that, it'll be easier for you to rub against my prostate gland. The only time I jerked off this past week and a half was when I called you to give you my phone number. I need to have you inside me tonite. Squeeze your cookie hard enough tonite and his Oreo cream-filled centre will spill out all over you."
"Sounds messy and juicy to me there babe. But before we get too distracted, your Mom sent me up with a care package of her homemade peanut butter cookies, and I'm thinkin' I wanna' chew on one of those before I take a bite outta' you. Besides, I have a plan for this evening. So patience little one and we'll get around to taking care of your tight, little butt later on."
I also want to rim you tonite too Adam. You've never let me do that to you. And all I've been able to think about the past couple of days is your hot, sexy ass. I really want to make you feel as good as you did to me when we went to the Lyn Pit. Can I do that please? Can I? Can I please?"
"We'll take a long, hot bubble bath together in that big tub of yours before we hit the sack later on. And after that you can stick that tongue of yours wherever the fuck you want... on me, in me... whatever, wherever babe."
"Now, for some serious business before ya' manage to totally distract me the way you usually manage to do. I promised ya' I'd take you to the Lord Elgin and the Coral Reef Club. Wouldya' like to dance this evening and maybe have a beer before we rip each other's clothes off and have hot and sweaty sex for the next six hours or so?"
"Funny you should mention that Adam. One of the guys in my class, Aleyn Kinzinger mentioned that he and I should go to the Lord Elgin sometime after class one day. He goes there practically every night and said I should go with him sometime. I told him though that I'd only go with you and that I promised you I wouldn't go unless you were with me."
"Good Aaron. I just wanna' make sure you don't get yourself into any trouble in these places. You're very young and they have a nickname for guys your age. You're a twink' babe. Not a Twinkie, as in my special little cookie... but a twink. Lotsa' guys go for young guys your age. And yes, I'm bein' overprotective and probably jealous and possessive here. But I just don't wantcha' getting yourself into any situations where you're gonna' get taken advantage of by someone who is just interested in you cause you're young and innocent and all."
"Well Adam, I promised I'd let you take me. So whenever you want to, then that's OK with me."
"OK babe. Maybe we'll just go to the `Oral Grief' Club tonite and dance for a while. You don't need to be stared at by all the old guys in the Lord Elgin."
"And Aaron... the mens' washroom there, just so you know... well there's no fuckin' way I'm letting you go in there without a safety net around ya'. Anytime you go to the Lord Elgin from now on, you go into the stalls and steer clear of the urinals. There are lotsa' perverted, horny creeps in there who'd love to get a peek at your little buddy down there. And that particular pleasure is reserved just for me. Besides, there's security guys who check that washroom out every half hour and call the Police to come and hassle the guys who spend too much time in there. You need to know these things Aaron. Can't have my little twink gettin' himself into any trouble `cause he doesn't have a clue about these things. Do ya' understand honey?"
"Yes Adam. And I don't want anyone looking at my cock either. No worries there. Once with my Dad when we went to Kingston a long time ago he took me to the mens' washroom at Lake Ontario Park, because I had to go like, really badly. There was a hole someone had made in the partition between the stalls and my Dad told me to put my jacket right over the hole when I went to pee. I think I must have been around seven or eight back then. Dad then stood right outside the stall while I pee'd and kept talking to me until I came out. I remember that still to this day. There was someone else in the stall right beside me. And I'm pretty sure they were trying to look at me. Dad could see their shoes. I still get bashful now, so I'm extra careful when have to go Adam. Otherwise I just can't. About the only time I'm not shy is when I'm with you."
"Hmm, good to know baby. Good to know."
The Coral Reef Club, aka, the Oral Grief' Club is down in a basement beneath a multi-level parking lot, close to the old historic Court House and the Department of National Defense on Nicholas Street. You'd never find the place unless you knew precisely where it was. The door down to the club looks just like an exit door beside the pay ticket meter and barrier toll gate to drive into the parking lot. The only clue that there was anything down there was a small window in the door and a tiny hand-stencilled sign just inside that reads, The Coral Reef' in pink and turquoise lettering. The minute Adam opens the door and starts to head down the stairs, all I can hear is KC and The Sunshine Band' blaring out Get Down Tonight.' There is a wicket with a window and a pass-through at the bottom of the stairs where some old guy with a porn-stache and looking extremely bored is sitting.
"Coat check and entry fee. Ya' got some ID there, I hope?" he asks me.
I pull out my wallet and show him my brand-new driver's licence that Adam was fortunately able to help me get just in time before his old car completely conked out on him. The guy then takes the dollar cover charge and my jacket and hands me a round plastic token with a number on it to claim my jacket when I leave.
"Baby, baby let's get together Honey, honey me and you And do the things, oh, do the things That we like to do
Oh, do a little dance, make a little love, Get down tonight, get down tonight Do a little dance, make a little love Get down tonight, get down tonight..."
"OK Aaron. Now I wantcha' to stick close by me til we figure out how crowded this place is. Ya' got that babe? Here, grab onto my hand cause I'm not lettin' you loose on your own `til we get ourselves a drink and find a place to sit down. OK baby?"
"Uhm, yes Adam. I'm kind of nervous anyway so I'm going to stick close to you. Besides, from what I can see so far this place is kind of creepy. The music is good. But the rest sort of looks like the cafeteria at the College with all those long tables arranged in rows, and those plastic chairs.
"What'll ya' have to drink Aaron? I'll go to the bar while you sit here."
The place is packed with people. Mostly thin and good-looking men in their twenties and thirties, just like Adam. I don't think I've ever seen so many bell-bottom jeans and platform shoes in one place before. And it seems like every guy has a David Cassidy' shag hair cut too. Polyester double-knit shirts, suede-fringed vests and leather beaded chokers or neckerchief' scarves seem to be the standard gay uniform for a lot of the guys dancing on the tiny little dance floor that looks like a scaled-down version of the one that John Travolta' danced on in Saturday Night Fever'."
There are at least twenty guys standing at the bar with their stuffed, bulging baskets thrust out, trying not to check each other out. Every so often, someone would lean over to someone else and ask for a light for a cigarette. Usually, five minutes later, they'd pair up and head onto the dance floor and start to move and shake their booties to whatever disco music the DJ was spinning from his sound booth above the dance floor. To the right of the sound booth and the dance floor was a little stage. I was to discover later that there were weekly drag queen performances by the local drag queens there every Wednesday night. Also, that Thursday nights were `women only' when all the lesbians got together and drank, smoked, danced and probably talked about their motorcycles, pottery kilns and where the cheapest place in town was to get a Mullet haircut and rent a U-Haul trailer.
The bar has pink flamingos painted on the wall behind where the glass shelves held all the bottles of liquor. Pink flamingos were the main theme inside the place. They seemed to be popping out all over... the plastic garden variety ones that people put in their yards. I even see a few pink feather boas drooping down from the columns in the room. Instead of doors into the mens' and ladies' restrooms, there are long, thick strands of metallic silver tinsel.
The mirrored disco ball above the dance floor is the biggest one I've ever seen.
"Here ya' go baby. Cheers! So, whadya' think of the place?"
"It's kind of tacky actually. But the music and sound system is pretty good. I can feel all the older guys in here staring at me though. I'm really glad I'm with you right now."
"You'd be shocked if you knew who many of them were Aaron. You've got married men and teachers and politicians, and even priests and ministers who come in here to try to pick someone up for sex. You're right. It is all kinda' tacky and sleazy."
Just then I happen to look over beside the bar, only to find my high school teacher Mr. Logrammer wearing a green leisure suit, unzipped half-way down to his naval, exposing all of his chest hair and gold chains. He's chatting up some skinny, blonde guy with acne and a weak chin that I think I recognise from the College.
"Oh God! There is my gym teacher Mr. Logrammer from Brockville over there! He's married and has five children. What the hell is he doing in a place like this?"
"I've seen him in here before Aaron. And I've known about him for a long time. Wouldya' like me to call him over to say hi?"
"Hell no! He was just awful to me in sex education class in grade ten. He kept saying that homosexuality was unnatural and that guys who had sex with other guys usually wound up getting hepatitis and venereal disease. And now just look at him! Posing there with a big erection poking at the other guy in his lumpy polyester pants and with that look on his face! He looks just like a `horny Jolly Green Giant'!"
Adam is speechless for a moment and then starts to laugh and says, "You just kill me baby. But dontcha' be goin' and judging other people though. If he's not trying to pick you up, then I've got no problem with him bein' here and neither should you. Now let's dance `cause I like this song, and it's a slow one."
Stevie Wonder' sings And I'll be Lovin' You Always' from the big speakers at the back of the dance floor. Adam grabs me and pulls me into him and starts to move in gentle rhythm with the music.
"You're a really good dancer Adam."
"As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May Just as hate knows love's the cure You can rest your mind assure That I'll be loving you always..."
"It all comes down to who you've got in your arms when ya' dance Aaron." He whispers into my ear and then gives me a little kiss as we move together and forget about everyone else in the place.
Next song is How Deep is Your Love' by the Bee Gees.' And then Donna Summer' with I Feel Love' gets cranked up to maximum volume by the DJ. The dance floor begins to overflow with haughty guys muscling each other out of the way to gain a square inch of space to strut their stuff.
"Ooh, I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love..."
"C'mon cookie, let's sit this one out. Too many fuckin' attitude queens on the floor now. Like, fuck this shit."
"Adam, I'm kind of hungry. There's an Italian Restaurant on Rideau Street just across from the Hudson's Bay Company Department Store. It's just around the corner and on the way back home to my place. We could split a pizza and maybe have a beer or something. I'm paying too, since I asked you. It'll be kind of like my little' date inside of your big' date. And, I'm not trying to be sexy or suggestive when I say that. Of course that is, unless you want me to be... and that would be OK with me too! Would you like to do that?"
A stunned look of surprise from Adam and a dirty laugh and he says, "Baby. I've had enough of this phoney tinsel palace for one fuckin' night and can't think of a nicer thing to do with you than sharin' something to eat. C'mon... let's go."
"Oh! Look at the front windows in The Bay'. They're setting them up for Thanksgiving and Halloween. Did I tell you that my classmate Aleyn Kinzinger used to do up the window and store displays for The Bay? I think he still goes in part-time to help out too. He works with someone named Mother' who weighs three hundred pounds and walks around with an ebony cane and fans himself while all of his assistants do the work, according to Aleyn. And oh yeah, he told me that his parents live in that old stone house just east of Maitland
. You know the one. It has a carriage house and stone pillars at the front. And there's a curved staircase up to the front door with a wrought iron railing. He lives just around the corner from me too on Elgin Street. I think he said it was 400 Elgin Street, just down from the Museum of Nature."
"Hmm, yeah... those store windows are pretty cool. Those mannequins with the pumpkin heads are pretty freaky. That reminds me baby. Mom wants you to come over to have Thanksgiving dinner with her and Bast and me when you come down to Brock Vegas that weekend. I think she's gonna' surprise me with a cake from Tait's Bakery for my birthday."
"That would be great. And you'll come over to Mom and Dad's for dinner that weekend too, I hope?"
"Sure thing baby. Your Mom's already invited me."
We finally make it back to my place, and Adam opens his knapsack and pulls out a bag and tosses it to me. Here ya' go babe, just like I promised... a little housewarming present for ya'.
Inside the bag is a set of gorgeous Egyptian cotton sheets and matching pillow cases. They're primarily red, but also have thin orange and blue diagonal stripes on them. I know they're very unique and expensive. It must have taken him quite a while to find them in those colours... especially the red and orange together like that.
"Figured I'd getcha' somethin' that has both our favorite colours in them. Do ya' like them?"
"I love them Adam! And... and I love you too."
"Awww, right back atcha' Aaron."
"Just let me change the bed and put them on it to see how good they look. "
"You do that babe, and I'll go brush my teeth and wash and clean myself up a bit. Then we can test them out, break them in, wrinkle them up... whatever ya' have in mind for me once we turn out the lights, OK?"
"I'll be quick Adam."
He walks over to where my books are stashed beside the fireplace, pulls out the newly published 1977 first edition of The Joy of Gay Sex' by Edmund White' I bought from Copland's Book Store when I was still living back in Brockville, and opens it up to a random page.
It says right here on page 231 of chapter twelve that you should never be too quick when it comes to sharing your bed with your partner."
"I'll remember that when you're naked in it with me Adam."
Once in bed together, I turn to Adam and say, "I've been staring at your sexy man butt all night long Adam. Can I rim you? I really want to take my tongue and lick you down there to see if I can make you squirm the way you do with me? Then I want to suck your big, hairy cock until you're just about to cum. And then you can fuck me and fill me up so I'll be walking around tomorrow with you deep up inside me."
An animal grunt and a Wookiee-worthy growl and Adam grabs me, thrusting his tongue far down my throat.
"Fuck Aaron! Do whatever the fuck ya' want to me babe. My body is yours tonite." he groans, as his hands seek out and grope every inch of my body.
Two hours later, with the sheets half on and half off the bed and we finally fall asleep, tightly wrapped around each other in a fragrant, pheromone-infused heady cloud of contented bliss.