CHRONICLES OF AN ACADEMIC PREDATOR
Published First at : http://groups.yahoo.com/group/arbourtales/
Before you read this story, there are a few things you should consider:
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It contains graphic descriptions of sex between men. In some cases, these depictions may get kinky, and include borderline S&M.
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It is set in the early 1960s, an era before the Civil Rights Act of 1964 when segregation and discrimination were the norm. African Americans were referred to as Negroes or Coloreds, although the "N" word was offensive then as it is now. I have retained the language of the era because it reminds me how far we have come on race relations.
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Be aware that the effects of inflation have been profound. A good rule of thumb is to consider that $1 in 1962 is probably similar to $10 in 2008. So just add a zero at the end of any number.
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Some authors are good enough to create a mood through their words. I need help, so I'll be posted recommended musical selections throughout the story.
CHAPTER 8
June 11, 1962
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MOqOxxqa2o "Soldier boy" by The Shirelles
On the road again. Someone should write a song about that. But this was a sad drive, and I fought back tears. Andre sat solemnly next to me as I drove my father's blue Cadillac along the familiar road to Columbus. My father insisted that we take the Cadillac, that way we wouldn't get any speeding tickets. Not that I was rushing.
Yesterday had been a whirlwind, with everyone doting all over Andre. My mother had thrown a big party last night and invited the entire family. We all tried to be festive, even though it was a going away party. My parents gave Andre a really expensive watch with all those dials and gadgets on them, which would presumably be useful in the army. Tonto gave him a leather pouch that was water-proof, and inside she put pens and writing paper.
I'd snuck into his room last night for one more last hurrah. He fucked me again, and it hurt just as much as the first time, but from an emotional standpoint it was satisfying beyond belief. I just enjoyed kissing him, feeling naked bodies in total contact.
I fought the demons that threatened to envelop me. We'd gotten to Columbus far faster than I had hoped, and here in front of me was the train station. Andre looked at me, his eyes moist too. "JP, I hate goodbyes. Do me a favor and just drop me off in front of the station." I nodded.
We pulled up to the station. This was it. The love of my life going away. I felt a tear slide down my cheek and cursed my lack of control. "Looks like the iceman is melting," joked Andre. Then he grabbed me in a big hug. I just held on to him, even after he tried to pull away. He whispered "I love you" in my ear, which just made the tears flow harder.
I pulled myself away and wiped my eyes. "Andre, promise me you'll write. A lot." He smiled at me. "Of course baby. And you have to write me too. Just be careful what you write, OK? I don't think the army would understand, uh, about us." That was certainly true, and it dawned on me that if he was outed it wouldn't just be a dishonorable discharge for him, he'd probably end up in Leavenworth. And with that he got up, grabbed his bag out of the trunk, and with a last smile and wave, he vanished into the station.
On the drive home I allowed my emotions free reign. "Bullshit! Unfair!" I screamed as I punched the soft empty seat next to me. It's not easy to find someone to love when you're queer. Or probably more to the point, to find someone to love you back. For two years I'd lived with the greatest guy in the world. For two years I'd pined away for him. And finally, in a fairy tale ending, he realizes that he loves me too. And we're supposed to live happily ever after. But no, the fucking army has to take him away. Feeling him wrapping his arms around me, the love and safety he projected to me, I'd trade all my trysts, all my flings, every one for that. This just proves there is no God, or if there is, he's a mean, sadistic bastard. I was like Sisyphus, destined to find love only to have it dashed from me as soon as I did.
Two miles outside of Claremont there's a really pretty park. I parked the Cadillac and went for a walk in the woods, wiping my eyes and getting a grip. OK, I told myself, you've had your emotional breakdown, now it's time to pull it together. Thirty minutes later I was able to enter Claremont as the same calm, unperturbed JP that everyone knew.
June 14, 1962
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZcY-MaA6xo "Uptown" by The Crystals
I stretched languorously, enjoying the laziness of sleeping in. I really had nothing urgent to do. The last few days had passed in a kind of numb fog. I kept up appearances, chatting with my parents in the evenings, seeing people in town that I hadn't talked to in years, that kind of shit. I spent most of my time doing physical things, which was unusual for me. I'm not a sporty kind of guy, and I don't exactly have muscle tone, but I enjoy riding. My mother got a new mare that seemed to like me. She's yellowish in color, so my mother named her Beurre. We'd bonded in that weird way that man and horse can as I guided her through the hills and trails around Claremont. She seemed to sense my deep inner sadness, and the fact that my ass still hurt from that last fuck, and didn't cause me any problems.
The other activity that I found refreshing was swimming. Well, not exactly swimming, but floating on an air mattress out in our pool. Then, when I got too hot, I would roll off and swim underwater, enjoying the silence and the feeling of water surrounding me. Last night I'd been particularly daring and I'd gone out skinny dipping after everyone else went to bed. The feel of the water moving around my balls, my ass, over my dick, was pretty erotic. Good thing it was dark.
I rolled out of bed and looked out my window, admiring the view for the umpteenth time. There was a new building going up downtown, one that would dominate the skyline. My father was building it, of course, and he planned to make that his corporate headquarters. It was supposed to be 15 stories tall, and was the talk of the town. Beyond downtown on the east side was the tall steeple of the Baptist Church, almost engulfed in smoke belching from the mill. This was my home, flaws and all.
I turned my eyes out to the lawn and the pool and saw Sammy staring up at me with a silly grin on his face. Damn he's growing into quite a handsome guy; guess helping his dad with the yard work was building those bulging muscles. That and football. He was waving but covering his mouth...he was laughing his ass off. About that time I had the sense to look down. There was my dick, morning hard-on and all, sticking out of my boxers. Embarrassed, I stuffed it back in my shorts and headed to the bathroom for my morning regimen. Terrific.
I put on some bermuda shorts and a comfortable shirt, slipped on my thongs, and combed my hair one more time. I was starting to get a tan, something I did really well. My skin got a nice golden brown which contrasted starkly against my thick blond hair. I strolled into the kitchen, determined to grab a bite to eat and then get the fuck out of there, when Vella called me. "JP, you got a phone call." I took the phone from her with a forced smile, hiding my bad mood, and carrying that fake cheerfulness through to the phone when I said "Hello".
"JP, it's Tonto. Listen, can you stop by this morning?" Not an unusual request.
"Sure, no problem. What's up?"
"I've got a surprise for you." I told her I'd be over soon and hung up. It wasn't like Tonto to be so mysterious.
As I walked out to the garage, Sam was standing there, still grinning. Asshole. "I got your car all cleaned up for you this morning JP", he said, and I saw the Pontiac gleaming in the driveway. This brought a genuine smile. My mood was starting to change.
"Thanks Sam, that was really nice of you." I eyed him up and down. He'd gotten tall, over 6 feet now. "You sure have gotten big".
He grinned at me and said "You're pretty big yourself" and started laughing, which made me blush a crimson red, which only made him laugh more. I couldn't help but laugh too, as I shook my head and walked to my car, thinking "Must escape. Must get out of here."
I drove down the hill to the monstrosity the Schluters called home. I found Tonto in the kitchen, as usual, drinking a cup of coffee, looking very contemplative.
"Hey Tonto," I chimed cheerfully.
"JP, thanks for stopping by. So when are you heading off to Chicago?" This can't be why she wanted me to stop by, but I could be calm and patient. No problem. It's my trademark.
"Well, I can't possibly leave before the 4th. I'll probably try to get in a brief visit before that if I can, or right after. I've got to get situated, find a place to live, stuff like that." The 4th of July celebration in Claremont was THE big event in town. Everyone was there, tons of food, fireworks, bands, the works.
"Billy won't be home for the 4th," she said glumly. "He said he had the best time with you in New York. That was so nice of you to go up there. You are such a good guy." I blushed and she gave me a hug.
"It's too bad he won't be here," I said sincerely. "It would have been great to see him." She nodded, and seemed a million miles away.
"Is that why you look so glum? Because Billy's missing the 4th?"
"No, we got some interesting news yesterday. I haven't even had a chance to tell your parents about it. That's why I asked you to come over." She paused, and I said nothing, waiting for her to spill the beans. "Seems that Steve had a girlfriend in France. Her name was Annette Bordet." She paused again. No wonder she was so glum. It must be horrible to lose your child in a war. She always got this look of pain when she remembered him. But I didn't see what it mattered that Steve had a girlfriend in France. Big deal. That was 17 years ago.
"Was?" I prompted.
"Yes, it seems she recently passed away. From what I gather, she was nothing more than a common whore, although perhaps I'm not being very charitable here." She looked down into her coffee, her eyes became distant and sad, the painful reopening of old wounds.
"Well, that's all very interesting, but what does it have to do with you?" I couldn't understand why this was an issue. So what if he had a girlfriend and she died?
"Her son arrived here yesterday from France. He brought letters with him from his mother, explaining that Steven was his father. His name is Stefan, presumably after his father. He's 16 years old and seems like a really sweet boy." At the mention of Stefan, her features softened. Holy Shit. Steve's kid suddenly dropped into Claremont after all these years. This ought to shake things up a bit and give people something to talk about. My suspicions began to emerge.
"You said his mom was a common whore. How do you know he's Steve's son?" I'm always the skeptic.
"Well, he had two letters with him. The first was a letter from Steve to his mother, acknowledging that the child she was carrying was his and promising to take them back to America after the war. The second was a letter from his mother to him, instructing him to take what little money she left him and travel to the US to find us."
She seemed convinced, but letters could be forged. The Schluters are a wealthy family; it would not be a stretch for someone to dream up a scheme to relieve them of some of their money. I explained my concerns to her and she just smiled. "Wait here," she said and strolled purposely from the room.
I got up to grab a cup of coffee. I heard her walking back into the room with someone following her. "Stefan," she said, "I'd like you to meet your cousin JP". From behind her emerged a young man, tall, with strawberry blond hair. The coffee cup fell from my hand and shattered on the tile floors. I was stunned. The boy looked exactly like his father. And Billy.
Tonto laughed. "Now you see why your arguments are so irrelevant?"
I laughed with her. "I see." Meanwhile, the young guy standing there was clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable. I chided myself for my bad manners. I walked over to him and held out my hand. He shook it cautiously.
"How long have you been in the US?" I asked him. He tried to respond, but was having trouble. I wondered if he had a learning disability or something. "My English not good," he stammered. Duh. Of course. The kid had been raised in France.
I repeated my question in French, and he looked at me with surprise, then his face lit up with pleasure. I figured, why not really blow his mind, and I gently hugged him while kissing him on each cheek in the French fashion.
"You speak French?" he asked. "Absolument," I said with a smile. He smiled back at me, a radiant and dazzling smile, one that some orthodontia and dental work would make perfect.
"That's the first time he's smiled since he got here," said Tonto. "I was going to take him up to meet your mother. I figured that he'd enjoy talking to someone he could understand. But then I thought of you, and you're closer to his age. I was hoping maybe you could spend some time with him, help him get acclimated to Claremont." She looked at me like this request was a huge burden.
"No problem Tonto. This is a great surprise." I turned to Stefan. "My mother is French. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to meet you." He seemed relieved that in this Midwestern backwater there were people who could speak his language.
I looked at my watch; it was already 11:45am. My parents had specifically requested that I meet them for lunch at noon. We were going to "the club", Claremont's Country Club, a golf course, pool, tennis courts, and stables carved into the side of the mountain not too far from our house. I had to run.
"I have to go," I said to Tonto. "I'm meeting my parents at the club for lunch."
"Ah yes, you don't want to miss that lunch." She said. That was strange. What did she know about this lunch? It must be a big deal. It made me nervous.
I explained my situation in French to Stefan. His face dropped considerably. Poor guy finally found someone he could talk to and then he gets blown off. My heart went out to him. "Look, after lunch I'll come back and pick you up. We can go out and explore your new home." His eyes lit up. I explained what I said to Tonto, and almost ran out the door.
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maRHBwtY1Qo "Wheels" by the String-a-Longs
My parents were both sitting at a table in the Club's restaurant, waiting for me to show up. I looked at my watch. 12:15. Shit. I wonder what this meeting was about. Hopefully not to chew me out for flashing my dick at the help. Like that would ever happen.
"JP, we've been waiting for you. Where have you been?" This was my father, with his type-A personality. Waiting for me must have taxed his patience to the extreme.
"Sorry Dad, I was over at the Schluter's meeting my new cousin." Their eyebrows went up, and they had questioning expressions on their face.
My mother thought she figured it out. "Oh, Janice is in town with the kids? I have to get over there to visit."
"Nope, not Janice." I was enjoying knowing something they didn't know, for a change.
My father was getting irritated, so I told them all about Stefan. My mother was thrilled, her maternal instincts fully aroused. I thought she was going to get up and leave right then to go over and see him, but there was obviously something on their minds.
"Well I guess that's a good reason to be late," my father said cheerfully. Then his mood changed, becoming much more somber. "Your mother and I wanted to talk to you about our house and what happens to it after we die". OK, I sure as hell wasn't expecting this. My parents never discussed their assets with me, and they didn't talk about their own mortality.
"Dad, I don't want to think about you dying. It's your stuff; you do what you want with it." I figured maybe I could dodge this conversation.
"Well, it's going to happen someday, and we've decided to leave the house to Jim. He's here in town, and he'll probably stay here. You're off on your own into the great wide world, and I can't see how having a house in Claremont is something you'd need." His tone was very matter of fact, so I just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He loved pregnant pauses. They'd given me so much already, if they wanted Jim to have the house, that was just fine. We'd never had that kind of jealous sibling rivalry thing. Jim and I had walked down different paths, and while we were close, we were too different to compete with each other.
"At the same time, we want to be fair to you, so we talked about this and we bought you a condominium in Chicago. Besides, that way we'll know you have a nice place to live." This was completely unexpected. I mean, buying me a car was one thing, but a house, condo, whatever? That was huge.
My mother chimed in. "I 'ope you don't mind that we bought it without consulting you first, but your father 'ad a friend who was building them so we were able to get a very nice unit." I missed the term "bought", past tense, in my father's statement, but that didn't really matter.
"That's way too generous! You have already done so much for me. You pay for everything, give me everything I want. I already owe you for that trip that Andre and I took to Paris, and for that plane ticket I bought my friend. This is too much," I suddenly felt guilty, like I was taking advantage of my parents.
"You owe us nothing," said my father firmly. "We're very proud of you. We've worked hard and been lucky, and what good is money and success if you can't share it with your family?" With that, my father handed me a brand new briefcase (also a present) with papers and floor plans for my new condo.
It was in a new high-rise building off Sheridan Road, not far from campus. I could walk there on a nice day if I was so inclined. Three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, on the 20th floor, with a balcony, a rooftop pool, and a parking garage. It's on a corner, so one side looks out over the Lake, while the other faces south towards the city. And brand new. Amazing.
I sat and read, and re-read, then re-read again all the info on the Condo. I was so excited. A place of my own. Not just a place, a veritable palace. I could have an office at home (finally a place for all my books) and a guest room. I was on cloud nine. I wanted to leave right now and go to Chicago to see it. I managed to stuff food in my mouth as I read and chatted with my parents. This was exciting!
My father finished his food and looked at his watch. He is so predictable. His designated time for family and lunch was over. Time to get back to work.
"Did you and mom drive up here together?" I asked my dad. He nodded as he pulled out his pocket calendar. "Then why don't you go ahead and take off, and I'll take Mom down to meet Stefan." He smiled at me, appreciating that I'd just made his day a little easier.
"If that is alright with you dear?" he asked my mother, treating her with respect like he always did.
"Of course," she said, and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Plus we can talk about decorating."
"Now that may just bankrupt me." I was about to protest when he held up his hand and just laughed. "Have fun you two." And then he was gone.
As we drove up to the Schluters home I could see Stefan looking out from one of the windows, from the room that once belonged to his father. My heart went out to him. What it must have been like, having your mother die, dealing with that grief, and then packing up and traveling to a foreign country where you didn't even speak the language. I can't even imagine how much fun immigration must have been. And on top of it, not knowing what kind of reception he'd get when he got here. It was entirely possible that he'd end up here and his grandparents would be dead, or completely reject him. And here he was, finally a safe haven, yet he could barely communicate with the very people he now had to live with. I wondered if I could have survived such a crucible.
We got out of the car and strolled into the kitchen. Tonto was there, going through some papers. It always amazed me that with all the rooms in the house, she liked to do her work and hang out in the kitchen. The asshole in me pondered that she wouldn't be so plump if she didn't park herself next to the food.
My mother greeted her warmly. They are good friends. My father told me that when my mother first moved here from France, Tonto took her under her wing and protected her from my grandmother, who was, to all accounts, a fearsome woman. They had just started to chat when Stefan walked in, and I watched my mother react almost like I did. She composed herself quickly and rushed towards him, kissing him on the cheeks and hugging him.
"Stefan, it is so good to meet you. What you must have been through! I'm so glad you are here in Claremont. With JP away at school I have no one to practice my French with." My mother projected warmth and it enveloped him.
"I have been trying to learn English, but it is not an easy language to understand, or speak. Words that are the same, or sound the same, and they mean entirely different things." Both my mother and I laughed at that, and I became conscious that Tonto was left out, staring at this exchange she didn't understand. I turned to chat with her while my mother talked to Stefan.
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3xa1R__l5M "Shout! Shout!" by Ernie Maresca
"So you knew what this lunch was all about?" I accused.
Tonto smiled. "Yes, your mother told me all about it a few days ago. I think it's just fantastic, and you deserve it. We're all so proud of you!" She gave me another hug.
"It looks spectacular. I can't wait to see it. I'm thinking about heading to Chicago to check it out." When I said this I sensed my mother tense up, her keen ability to listen to other conversations while conducting one of her own was amazing. "I figured maybe a quick trip, for just a couple of days, because you know I have to be here for the 4th."
She turned away from Stefan. "JP, you're only going to be here for a short time, so don't go for too long." I beamed back at her. She'd given her blessing. I was ready to go home and pack. Then I had an inspiration.
"Maybe I could take Stefan with me?" The mention of his name got Stefan's attention. "He could help me carry some stuff, and we could explore Chicago."
Tonto looked dubious. "He just got here yesterday. That seems awfully soon to whisk him away. The poor dear has been through so much." Stefan stared at us, oblivious to the conversation that so directly concerned him.
"What if I left on the 16th, and we only stayed in Chicago for three or four days? That way he'd have a few days to explore Claremont first, and he wouldn't be gone for too long." I was in problem-solving mode. "If it's OK with you, let's ask him if he wants to go. He might want to stay here." And cows could fly out of my butt.
"Of course, we're talking about him like he's five years old." She turned to Stefan, and then realized she couldn't ask him. I intervened.
"Stefan, I'm moving to Chicago this fall. My parents just got me this bitchin' condo, and I want to go check it out. So I was thinking that you and I could hang out for the next couple of days, and then, if you want to, you can go to Chicago with me for three or four days."
His eyes lit up. "Yes, that sounds fantastic. I definitely want to go. " Tonto could certainly understand "fantastique" in French.
"Well then," I said, turning to Tonto, "if you don't mind I'll take him off your hands for a few hours and drive him around town." Tonto didn't look entirely happy about losing her charge.
My mother intervened. "Why don't you and Barry come up for dinner tonight? Then Stefan can meet Jack, and then he can ride home with you." And that's how it was decided.
We drove up to the Heights to drop my mother off, the whole way the two of them were chatting. The Pontiac has birth control seats so he was leaning through the gap between them. He seemed so comfortable and animated. Hopefully he would retain those traits when he learned to speak English.