I has been years since we promised to write the epilogue to our adventures. However, recent events have rekindled our desire to tell our story to its end. We apologize for the delay and hope that you will enjoy this first installment. The "B" part will follow shortly. As always, you can email us at dimiandjoey@mail.com with your comments.
Now I Know I am Not Alone - Part 5A
"Gyres"
As I sat there playing my baglama after work Friday evening, I found myself suddenly remembering that Tuesday night long ago before our trip to the Futaleufu in Patagonia. As if I were still sitting on the couch in front of the TV screen, I could see Forrest Gump at that bus-stop bench, saying his now famous line: "Life is like a box of chocolates..." Shit! Was he right! So much has happened. It is hard to believe that four years have past -- some with incredible joy and others with grief that no one can imagine.
Dimi and I are no longer together. My life has changed dramatically; I married and in the process gained a ready-made family, two beautiful boys, age thirteen and eleven. My wife Anne was older that I by 11 years. I was delighted when she told me that she was pregnant with a third child -- mine; later I was even more delighted when the ultrasound revealed that the child was a boy. We agreed that his name would be Demetrius.
My thoughts and playing were interrupted by my eleven year old, Matt, saying, as he sat watching TV in his boxer shorts:
"Dad, when can we go see giagia? We promised her that we would visit before we leave for Greece next week. Besides, we have to get the keys."
I smiled. Neither Anne nor the boys were Greek, but they had picked up words and phrases quite easily. Matt was right, though. Of late, I have found myself putting things off, rationalizing that the drive from Venice to Tarpon Springs was too long after a day's work. Oh, I should mention that we are living in Costas' house; he and Aldo now live in Crete permanently and he "rents" us the house for a hundred dollars a month. My meeeting Anne, her pregnancy and our marriage torpedoed any hope I had of going to college full-time, but I have no regrets. My parents were disappointed after all the strings my father pulled for Dimi and me, but they accepted my choice. They were delighted to learn of the pregnancy and marriage. After all, that proved their son was not gay.
"OK, you win, Matt. I surrender! We'll all drive up there next Saturday." I said jokingly.
As with many children from a former marriage, the biological father has visitation rights with the children. But my boys were quite unhappy about seeing their biological father even though it was only every other weekend.
"Hey, are you guys all packed up? Your father will be picking you up for the weekend in about two hours and I don't want any crap about not being ready!" I added ever so quickly.
Their father is, simply put, an ass-hole. He got Anne pregnant at 16, but did not marry her until after their second son was born. Although I had tried to adopt both the boys, he refused to give his consent. His accountant used them as a partial tax deduction and he would never give up a way to cheat the government. Anne resents the arrangement but nothng can be done. They are never supervised when they are with him and are left to their own devices. He is an amateur musician and plays at various bars and leaves the boys alone in his trailer while he plays.
"Yeah, we're packed." Matt said sadly with his head lowered.
Shortly, a gold Cadillac pulled up on the driveway and the boys carried their backpacks reluctantly to their father's car. Normally, even though Anne and I were concerned about the boys when they were with their father, we would have been somewhat delighted about being alone. However, there could be no sex because she was pregnant. But we were content to lie in bed naked, my ear pressed against her swollen belly as I fondled her breasts. Occasionally, as I pressed my ear to her, I could hear that little heart beating within her and when I whispered "giasou Dimi," I could feel a strong kick from within as the baby's reply. With each kick, my eyes filled with tears, because I knew it was my little Dimi.
The weekend without the boys passed quickly as well as the week before our trip. We had so much to do and so little time to do it: everything had to be checked and double-checked. I was also delighted because Costas and Aldo would be meeting us at Athens International. I fancied that, like our trip to South America, Costas would meet us right at the plane. Saturday, the day before our departure, as I had promised, we set out to visit my family in Tarpon Springs.
I have learned from experience that having both my sons in close proximity in a confined van was not a good thing. They re-defined sibling rivalry, fighting about almost anything. They even fight when they are in the shower together.
"Matt, I want my CD player...now," whined Alan, as only a thirteen year old can whine
"No, you can't have it. I am listening to The Charlie Daniels Band!" Hissed Matt.
"But I want it now to..." snapped Alan.
"Both of you, shut up right now! That's enough. We are not even half way there and you guys are averaging a battle every few miles. Turn off the CD player and put it on the front seat. I don't want to hear one more word from either you!" I yelled above the road noise coming through the open window.
There was silence but it was a very angry silence. Alan saw Matt as the aggressor and now he was being punished for something that he felt was Matt's fault. Matt broke the silence shortly:
"Dad, you won't believe what Alan did last weekend in the camper...." He started in attempted retaliation.
"Matthew, don't tell such a lie. Shut up! Don't you dare...."
Since round two of bickering had started, I intervened immediately. "That's it; shut up, both of you, or I will turn this van around immediately." I screamed in anger as I turned around to glare at them and the van swerved sharply in its lane. However, something caught my attention. Alan had a scowl on his face, a look of anger and rage, almost threatening physical violence, and it was directed only toward his brother. He never called his brother Matthew except when he was very angry and deadly serious. Since thirteen year olds have gotten involved with drinking, drugs, and sex, I decided that I would question Matt further when I had the opportunity to speak to him alone.
As we pulled into my parents' driveway, the boys opened the sliding door of the van and bounded up to the front door, right into the loving arms of my parents. I had always been amazed at how quickly both the boys and my parents adopted each other as relatives. The boys knew that there would be souvlaki and all sorts of treats so their hugs were brief.
"Giasou Mama. Giasou papa," I whispered as I embraced them both.
Of course, the first thing that they noticed was Anne's absence. I explained that she was not feeling well and had decided to stay home. They were disappointed, but they understood. Both her well-being and that of our baby were of the most importance. After all, we were really wanted the baby to be born while we were in Greece, and with Costas' assistance had made all the arrangements. Nothing had been left to chance. As we sat in the living room, I realized that very little had changed in the house. They had had the white walls painted a very pale blue, but the furniture and carpets remained the same. I looked down at the floor, at the very place Dimi and I made love when my father caught us. As I stared at the floor, the voices faded to nothing. I was reliving that day that had altered our lives so completely...
"Hey, Joe! Where are you? Why are you so quiet? Would you like another glass of ouzo?" joked my mother.
After dinner, we sat, talked, and laughed. Papa gave me the keys and explained everything about the family's summerhouse in Vouliagmeni where we would be staying while in Greece. It's about an hour's drive from Athens, so we had both the city of cities and excusive Kavouri Beach within reach. My mind wandered as papa spoke. God, so many memories! That is only about twenty minutes from Glyfada where my old soccer team used to party naked with those prep school girls!
"Scata (shit), I whispered out loud. "I hope I don't run into any of them while I am there."
"Who?" asked Papa. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just remembering those snobs from the soccer team at the academy. I don't really want to see any of them ever again."
"Don't worry," he joked, "They will change their tune when they find out you are living on Posedonos Avenue."
We laughed about it. Even though Posedonos Avenue is like Beverly Hills, I still did not want to meet up with any of the kids who had made my life miserable for eight months. Soon the sun dropped low on the horizon and I decide that we had to leave to get home early. As we hugged each other goodbye and my parents wished us well, mama whispered as she hugged me: "Don't forget to visit Dimi while you are there."
"I won't," I replied, fighting back tears.
Despite all our planning, the morning of our departure was chaotic. Alan could not find the spare batteries for his CD player and Gameboy, and Matt frantically searched for his swim fins. After resolving these and other last minute problems, we loaded the van and were off both to our vacation in Greece and the eventual birth of our son, assuming of course that the doctors were right about the delivery date. Many of our friends thought we were crazy to go to Greece before Anne was to give birth. But it was what we wanted, what my family wanted; our doctors foresaw no problems and arranged for all our medical care in Greece. Our son, Dimi, would be born in the land of his ancestors.
The drive to Tampa was as all other drives with the boys: bickering, excitement, and giddiness. They still had trouble understanding the times involved in our trip. It would take between two and a half to three hours to get from Tampa to our connecting flight to Greece at JFK. From there it would take about ten hours on a non-stop flight to Athens International. They could not understand the concept of time zones and that we would arrive in Athens the next day at 10 AM. I knew that no matter what we said, they would not sleep on either of the flights and would be completely exhausted at the end of their first day in Athens. Anne seemed to block out all the noise and chatter coming from the boys as we drove I-75 to Tampa. The topics of conversation ranged wide: from diving in Aegean to the roller coasters at Busch Gardens. The boys had spent close to two years trying to get me on Mantou and other insane roller coasters in the park, but to no avail.
I had planned to arrive at Tampa International at least three hours before our flight; with all the new security in place to combat terrorism, I knew that it would be a major headache. Once we cleared all the checkpoints, we were allowed to go to the boarding area. As we sat there, I remembered the book and took it from my carry bag.
"Honey, " Anne observed, "do you think it is a good idea to leave that book here and walk away? After all, someone watching on a security monitor might see it and freak out."
"Yeah, that's a good idea...I better speak to the Delta representative at the desk just to be sure..."
I took the book to the counter, explained to the airline representative about leaving the book for someone else to read, and asked her what she thought. She told me that there was no problem as long as someone knew about it. As I turned and walked toward an empty seat, I opened the book and looked at the names inside the cover, then I took my pen and signed my name below Dimi's. Perhaps, I thought, the next reader will have better luck with it than we had and I placed in any empty seat.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," this is your captain. We are on final approach to Athens International Airport. The time is 10:15 AM and the temperature is 82 degrees. Remember to adjust your watches! On behalf of the crew of flight 412, I would like to thank you for choosing Olympic Airways. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing."
The ten-hour trans-Atlantic leg of our flight had gone by slowly. Fortunately, I slept a good part of the time. Anne catnapped because she wanted to get up from her seat frequently and walk about. The boys, of course, didn't sleep at all. This was their first airplane flight. They switched their seats constantly so each could look out the window, watched movies, snacked constantly, and played their Gameboys relentlessly. I knew that they would be exhausted and on reserve power before the end of their first day in Greece. I had done the same thing when my father sent me to Greece for school. Anne was very excited; she had never been outside the United States before, and she was nervous too because she only knew a few phrases in Greek; I assured her that in the metropolitan areas, everyone spoke English and that she had nothing to worry about. After clearing customs, we walked toward the exit. I scanned the crowd, looking for Costas and Aldo. There in a crowd of taxi and lim o drivers holding signs with the names of their passengers, I saw them. I roared with laughter and ran toward them. Both of them were carrying signs reading "Xenakis Family"! The three of us wrapped ourselves around each other in an embrace. I could feel the tears running down my face. Costas looked the same, but Aldo had grown up so much. He was a beautiful young man and amazingly spoke Greek like a native.
"Costas, Aldo... I would like to introduce you to my wife Anne, my son, Alan, and my son Matthew" I said proudly. "Of course, I cannot leave out my little Dimi," I said and beamed as I placed my hand on Anne's belly.
"Wow! That was the most powerful kick yet. There's another one! He must realize he is in his native land." Giggled Anne as moved forward to embrace Costas and Aldo. The boys were, of course, aloof, shuffling their feet and looking down but looking forward. They both were at an awkward age. But I knew that would pass quickly.
After the luggage was loaded, we stopped for some breakfast in the airport and then began the drive with Costas and Aldo to Vouliagmeni, about an hour south of Athens on the road to Sounion. All the while we laughed and joked about our adventures in Patagonia. The boys marveled at our stories, but, of course, we had to omit the details about our intimate moments. Anne knew the whole story of my youthful adventures, but the boys did not.
"What was that kid's name? Yeah...Juan, you know the kid assigned to Site 6. I remember one time when we came back from the river, stripped and stood there in the pouring rain and he just materialized out of nowhere umbrella in hand and asked if we wanted something to drink. That was so strange, anytime we wanted something, even thought about something, poof and he was there to wait on us... That was the adventure of a life-time."
As we drove, we talked about the rapids on the Futeleufu, the adventures we had, the beauty of the country, our kayak trip to Anclote key and the violent thunderstorms. All the good memories of those days came back. But inside I was sad; I also remembered the bad. The boys leaned forward from the back seat of the van, listening intently to the tales of our adventures. They almost could not believe that we had done these things when we were only three years older than they were. When we arrived at the house, Anne and the boys were overwhelmed with its beauty and size. But the beauty of the place soon faded and the lure of their beds won. They had not slept a wink and collapsed easily into a peaceful sleep of exhaustion. Anne tucked them in and then came into the living room.
"Honey, Dimi is really kicking up a storm. I know I'm not due for two weeks but I think he is in a rush to get out!"
I laughed but she looked at me as if she knew something that I did not. We spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool and chatting with Costas and Aldo. Neither of them missed Florida. Costas observed that he felt that the government was becoming too intrusive in the name of protecting everyone from terrorism and that they were spending everyone's inheritance and bankrupting the country for future generations. I had to agree; every day on the news, another dire prediction appeared in a newspaper or on TV. Sadam Hussein was gone but our presence in Iraq reminded me of what I had read about Viet Nam in school. Before we knew it, it was early evening. Dinner had been casual by the pool as we chatted. We let the boys sleep because we knew that they were exhausted.
"Honey," Anne said as she walked up to us from inside, "I think it is time. My water just broke!"
"Holy shit! Holy shit!" I screamed with fear and delight. "Costas, call the hospital. Call the doctors. Aldo, go wake the boys. We have to get to the hospital."
I could feel myself losing control as I jumped up to embrace Anne. After what seemed an eternity, we were all in the van, speeding toward Athens University Hospital. It was a comic scene right out of the movies. Costas was driving and Aldo was in the front seat. Anne and I were sitting the middle seat, and the boys were in the back. Aldo kept looking back at us. Every two seconds I asked if she was OK. Several times she growled at me to shut up. Her contractions had started! While both the boys were fully familiar with sex and how babies were made and had caught us making love more than once, this was a new, first-hand part of their education. They both leaned forward on the middle seat with worried looks, asking if mommy was OK. They had tears in their eyes as she moaned with each contraction.
Dimi arrived later that night at 11:32 PM. He weighed 7 pounds and was both an American and Greek citizen. I held him for the first time shortly thereafter. My first words to him were "giasou, Dimi" as I kissed him on the forehead and he, of course, cried for food. I called my parents from the hospital and all I could say was "he's here, he's here." They were delighted, but my mother said that it was fate that he waited until he was on Greek soil to be born. In traditional fashion all my mother wanted to know was if he had all his toes and fingers. "Yes mama, he is perfect" was all I could say. As mother and son slept peacefully, everyone cried and hugged each other, but they were tears of joy. We decided to go to a taverna to unwind and get something to eat and drink...actually we wanted to celebrate the continuation of the Xenakis line. As we sat, laughed, ate, and drank, I remembered the opening lines from one of Dimi's favorite poems called "Ecce Puer" (Behold the Boy) b y James Joyce and proposed it as a toast to my newborn son:
"Of the dark past a child is born
with love and grief my heart is torn
Calm in the cradle the living lies
May love and mercy unclose his eyes."
I can only hope that life offers only what is good to my little Dimi.
Anne's stay in the hospital was brief -- three days. During that time I had arranged for Dimi to be baptized at St. Denis' in Athens. Costas would be his godfather and my mother's sister, Melina, would be his godmother. After the baptism, everyone came back to our home to relax and celebrate. Anne was still tired and Dimi had a voracious appetite so she spent much of her time either breast-feeding him or singing him to sleep. It was pleasant to see that the boys were comfortable with her breast-feeding him. There was no reaction when she exposed her breast and allowed Dimi to feed. There was no secrecy here. Everything was out in the open. I was sure that our attitude about stuff like this would contribute to a healthy attitude on their part toward sexuality in all its aspects.
Later that day, we decided to go to our "private" beach. Aldo had promised to take Alan out on a wave-runner and Costas went along to watch over the two of them. Matt and I put up the umbrella and put down a blanket on the sand. I had brought a book to read and Matt had his brother's CD player. Matt seemed shocked when I stood up after a while and took off my shorts and reclined naked in the sun.
"Matt, this isn't Florida. You are in Europe. Bathing suits are optional here. Nudity is OK here." I joked.
I frankly was surprised that Matt reacted the way he did. While most boys at eleven are quite shy, Matt had no problem with sitting around in his boxers. He delighted in wearing his "Joe's" as he called them -- short for "Joe Boxers." He particularly enjoyed one yellow pair with eyes and a smiling face with a tongue sticking out of the mouth exactly where his penis would be. He would walk to and from the shower completely naked, never attempting to cover his privates as he walked past any of us, including Anne. On some occasions he would walk to the shower, sporting an erection, and never thinking twice about it. Lately, I have caught him on numerous occasions humping his bed. I know he was hard because on once occasion he rolled on his side and you could see his erect dick with his head swollen within his foreskin. Anne told me that he had been humping his bed since he was eight. That surprised me at the time but I rarely thought about it. While he was used to nudity at ho me, he was not used to it in public where others could see. After a little hesitation, he took off his shorts, threw them on the blanket and laid down on his stomach, facing the ever so blue ocean.
"Hey," I joked, "When you get back to school everyone will want to know how you got a complete body tan."
Several young girls walked naked along the water's edge and Matt followed them with his eyes like a gun site.
"Come on, let's go for a swim..." I said as I poked his side with my arm.
"Er, I can't get up just now..." He whispered.
"Hard-on, eh?" I laughed. "Don't worry. Everybody has them at first. The girls don't even notice them. Eventually, once you get used to seeing girls naked nothing will happen. I had a teacher who said that it's all in the mystery, not seeing what you want to see.."
Hesitatingly, Matt got to his feet, looking down at the snow-white sand. He was embarrassed. Surrounding his erection, I could see a few curls of pubic hair. Yes, he was entering puberty earlier than his brother had. Anne and I would have to have the detailed talk with him soon about sex but more importantly about sexual responsibility.
After our swim, we returned to the blanket. I remembered the episode in the van on our way to my parents' home. Since we were alone on the beach, I decided that this would be an ideal time to ask him about the comment that he had made.
"Matt, remember when we went to see giagia before we left for Greece. You started to tell me about something in the camper the weekend before when you were with your father. Wanna talk about it now?"
"No. I can't. You'll be REALLY mad if I tell you and then you will tell mom," he said hesitatingly as he traced designs in the sand.
"Matt, if something bad happened, I have to know about it; I promise I will not get mad and I will not tell mom. You know what a pinky swear is. Here's my pinky," I said calmly as I extended my pinky to him.
He locked his pinky with mine and then said in a very low hesitating voice:
"Alan sucked Eddie's thing when we were in the camper ..."
I was shocked. I asked him to repeat what he had said. Often he reverted to childish words when he was talking about private parts. I knew what he meant when he said "thing."
"Hold on," I said nervously. "First of all, you mean that Alan sucked on Eddie's pee-pee, his penis? Who is this guy Eddie and how did he get in the camper?"
"Yup," Matt nodded his head affirmatively. "Eddie is one of my friends that I invited along so I wouldn't be bored. While we were in the camper alone, Alan said `Let's have a naked party.' He and Eddie took off all their clothes and then Alan sucked his thing. Then Eddie sucked Alan, and then they humped each other."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Was Matt making this up to get his brother in trouble?" was my first thought. I knew that their sibling rivalry approached almost biblical proportions. If he were making it up, I suspected that the story would lack details, so I asked what he, meaning Matt, did while this was going on. He told me that he just sat in his boxers, watching TV.
"So, was Alan hard when he took off his clothes?" I asked and Matt replied that he was.
"Did Alan do anything else while he sucked on Eddie's thing?" I continued. Matt replied that he rubbed his thing up and down with his other hand.
"Did anything happen while he was rubbing?" Matt replied, "White stuff squirted out."
"Does Eddie have skin covering the head of his thing like you do?" Matt's reply was "No."
I was getting very nervous. There was no hesitation on Matt's part. The details appeared to be there. I continued my questioning.
"Now you said that Alan humped Eddie. Exactly what to you mean?
"Well," began Matt, speaking more calmly now, "he spread Eddie's legs and then put his thing in him and pushed it in and out like you hump a girl."
"Look," I interrupted, "you know the right words. You're a big boy. Call it a penis or a dick, but stop calling it a `thing.' This is serious!"
"OK" was Matt's only reply.
"Was Eddie laying on his stomach or on his back when Alan humped him?
"He was laying on his stomach," answered Matt matter of factly.
"Did Alan push his dick inside Eddie's ass" I asked, and Matt replied "Yup. He put a lot spit on Eddie's butt hole before he did it."
"Did Eddie say anything when Alan put it into him?" Matt replied, "He said it hurt a lot."
By now I was terrified. All the details were there and they were very accurate. Matt could not be making such a story up on the fly. He had to be describing something that he had seen with his own eyes. I resolved to continue my questions further just to make sure.
"Has Alan done this stuff with others?" Matt answered, "Yes, with lots of them. Some of his friends and a lot of my friends."
"Were they all boys?" Matt replied, "Yup."
"Has Alan ever done anything with you?"
Matt hesitated and then answered:
"Yup. He's been sucking my dick since I was eight years old and I have sucked his too. But I stopped sucking his this year when he squirted that white stuff in my mouth. It tasted all salty and disgusting. He used to hump me when I was younger but now I won't let him do it because his dick is so big. I know it would hurt a lot. All I do now is let him suck my dick when we are in the shower together or when we sleep together."
Matt's last answer removed any doubt I might have had. Things that Anne had told me suddenly made a great deal of sense. Alan slept with Matt a lot because he was "scared." Matt had started humping his bed when he was eight years old. That was when Alan started sucking on his dick. Matt obviously liked the feeling and discovered that he did not always need Alan to satisfy him. I resolved to ask one last question:
"Matt," I said very seriously, "What do you think of what Alan has done to you and other boys?"
"I think that it's very bad," answered Matt. "it's not right. You should only do that kind of stuff with a girl."
Matt's answer convinced me that he most probably was straight and that he was lured into this perhaps out of curiosity. Perhaps too, what Alan had done to him and continued to do to him accounted for the unbelievable sibling rivalry between them. I decided not to tell Anne about it and to ask Costas about how to proceed with this problem.
"Well, Matt, if you don't like what Alan is doing to you and you think that it is bad then you have to tell him that you don't want to do it any more. You have to understand that there are boys who like girls, boys who like boys and girls, girls who like boys and girls, girls who like girls, and boys who like boys. I think Alan falls into the last category, boys who like boys. I think you fall into the first category, boys who like girls." I said, intending to end the conversation because the wave riders were returning to the beach.
"Yup. I only like girls," was Matt's answer to my last statement.
"Then you have to stop letting your brother do these things to you." I said as Alan came screaming toward the blanket, elated from his wave riding.
When the whole group gathered at the blanket, I suggested that Aldo take Alan and Matt out for one last ride before we went back to the house for dinner. As they ran down the beach to the wave runners right past a few naked girls, I noticed that Matt was the only one who slowed down to enjoy the view.
"Costas," I began, "I just discovered that I have a problem with Alan." I began, telling him the details of the conversation that I had just had with Matt.
Costas thought for a few minutes and then said that I had to talk to Alan about it and that, if he did fall into the category boys who like boys, then it was imperative that he learn caution and the lessons that Dimi and I had learned the hard way. He also said that it would be best not to tell Anne about what I had learned right now.
We had decided not to begin exploring Athens for at least a week so all I had to do was wait for an opportunity to speak to Alan alone. I also decided that I would bring the topic up by letting him read the four parts of "Now I Know I Am Not Alone" that we published on Nifty.org. Hopefully he would react to the stories as positively as countless readers had in their mails to us. There happened to be plays being performed at the theatre at the base of the Acropolis and Costas and Aldo offered to take the boys to break the monotony of beach activities, but only Matt wanted to go. This provided the opportunity that I needed to speak with Alan. I told Anne only that I wanted to talk with Alan about some "manly" things because of the way he had been looking at the naked girls on the beach. She agreed, and I had the opportunity for my completely private talk with him.
"Hey, Alan, let's go into the library. I want to talk with you about some stuff." I said calmly, trying not to arouse any suspicions.
After I closed the door and started walking toward a chair, Alan blurted out, "I didn't do it." I was surprised; there was a denial before an accusation. I sat him down at the computer and went to nifty.org and brought up the stories. He did not know what was going on.
"Sit down and read these stories that Dimi and I wrote when we were younger. I think you might learn something from them."
He gave me that "dumb" look but he began to read and as he read I could see that he was being drawn into the stories. He read and read non-stop for an hour and a half, sometimes going back and re-reading parts.
"You know what I've done, don't you?" I nodded my head and he looked down at the floor in shame.
"Alan, you have to understand one thing. You are who you are and what you are. It is the hand life has dealt you. But you have to understand that with that hand comes obligations and precautions. Are you a boy who likes girls, a boy who likes boys or a boy who likes boys and girls?"
"Boys only" was Alan's reply as tears fell from his eyes and spattered on the tile floor.
I asked him if he was absolutely sure and he said that he was. I put my arms around him and pressed his head to my shoulders, kissed his head, and told him that he had a lot to learn and that I would try to protect him from all the mistakes that Dimi and I had made.
"Dad," Alan asked, "the stories end when your friend Dimi came to Greece to fly back with you to Florida. What happened after that? That was two years ago. I've met all your friends except Dimi"
"Those were the really dark times; times that I would prefer not to remember. Hell is a real place and we were both there. Maybe, I will tell you about them; but it's painful for me even to think about them let alone re-tell the story to someone else. That is why we never wrote the final chapter that we promised. You will meet Dimi before we leave Greece. I promised my mother we would go to see him. He is in Asprias with his mother's sister's family.
That night I tossed and turned but could not sleep so I went down to the media room, turned on the satellite news, and curled up in a corner of the couch. I dozed off and awoke to find Alan sitting on the couch with his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands. He wore only his boxers. I knew he was troubled now that his sexual orientation was in open for at least one person. I put out my arms to him and whispered, "Come here, babe!" In an instant he was next to me, molding his body to mine. He hugged he more tightly than he had ever hugged me before. He buried his face in my neck and I could feel his tears running down my shoulder. He lifted his head and kissed me on the lips. He then started to slide his hand up my leg under my boxers. I reached down and stopped him. I was not going to do what Costas had done years ago for Dimi.
"NO, Alan. That is not the answer. Let me tell you what happened after Dimi came to Greece."
************* to be continued **************************