Phalen

This story contains portrayals of homosexual actions and lifestyles. There may be references to, or explicit descriptions of, sex between consenting adults.

If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or if reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal or religious beliefs, you must exit now without proceeding further.

If you are under 18 years of age, do not read this story.

This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental.

Roy roynm@mac.com

Chapter 6

I couldn't think. I couldn't concentrate in class. The solution to my design project was terrible, and even my classmates seemed not to know what to make of me. I was as reclusive as a student who has to go to classes could possibly be. My body was present in class but my mind was someplace else, worrying about how I could bring myself to talk to someone about my abuse.

Brad, noting my withdrawal, would often sit next to me, giving me his support by his presence. Often, he would ask if he could help in any way. I always shook my head and offered my thanks, attempting to smile. He knew the smile was superficial. I was trying to carry on as usual, without much luck. I was thankful for Brad's concern, and only wished there was something I could have suggested that would help. He could do nothing for me. Only I could begin my healing. I needed to find the courage to take the first step. As bad as it was, I had become accustomed to the bouts of depression, to the feelings of loneliness and of helplessness. I knew how I felt now. I was afraid that things might get worse if I released the ghosts.

At home I was moody, staying in my office as much as possible. Phalen knew what was causing my moodiness and didn't push me. He never mentioned my promise to speak with someone. The problem was, by not saying anything I felt that he was shouting for me to hurry up. He still showed me the same affection that he always had, but even his jokes and good humor weren't enough to banish my funk. I had to talk with someone, fast, but how --- and who?"

'Damn it,' I thought, kicking at a small stone as I crossed the street, trying to vent a little of my frustration. It didn't help that the weather was blistering hot. Heat waves shimmered in the air over the streets and sidewalks, creating imaginary pools which did nothing to cool the air. I was glad there wasn't a breeze. I always likened an Arizona summer-time breeze to standing in front of a body-length blow dryer. Today, the city seemed to be even more quiet than usual. Not even the birds were singing. As always when it was this hot, very few people were outside, preferring to stay inside until evening. The streets were almost empty. The sidewalks were abandoned, except for me. I was weighed down by the unremitting combination of the heat, my past, and the need to speak with someone.

I was getting worse and I knew it. It was becoming obvious to those around me that something was seriously wrong. I expected that Thian and Kerin thought Phalen and I were having some sort of trouble, but didn't know how to bring the subject up. Perhaps they had spoken with Phalen, I didn't know. I had even noticed Larry giving me a concerned look when he thought I wouldn't see. Phalen was right. Things couldn't go on like this.

I hadn't told anyone, but my daytime "nightmares" had become more frequent. Thankfully though, none had been as bad as the one witnessed by Brad. I knew that I was also having the dreams at night, and I suspected that Phalen had not revealed to me how serious those he witnessed had been. I remembered Phalen's telephone conversation that I had witnessed while I was floating on the pool. The brief pieces of conversation I had overheard told me that he had indeed seen at least one nightmare and had confided in someone, probably his father, what was happening. No wonder Larry was watching me.

I was also experiencing an increasing number of times when, for a few moments, I wasn't aware of where I was, or whom I was with. The laughter, something I had lived with since I was a child, was becoming louder, and someone touching me unexpectedly was becoming unbearable. I wanted to hide away in a dark room. I knew that wouldn't help, though. The laughter was everywhere. The feeling of hands holding me down wouldn't go away.

I didn't know why I had begun having the nightmares again. I hadn't experienced any since coming to the States to go to school. Perhaps they were caused by my desire to have a full sex life with Phalen, or by the pressure I felt to discuss my problems with someone and the overwhelming dread I experienced each time I contemplated that scenario. Whatever the reason, they were back and were getting worse daily. I was fast becoming an emotional cripple.

Larry drove past me, tooting his horn and waving as I approached the end of our block. I gave him a half-hearted wave, and continued walking slowly, in no hurry to get home, even though I felt like I was walking through a furnace. When I looked up, I saw that Larry was standing in his driveway next to his car, waiting for me. 'At least he's standing in the shade,' I thought, as I walked faster.

"Hey, Jeff," Larry said, smiling, as I approached. You look beat. Did you have a hard day at class, or has that son of mine been keeping you from getting enough sleep?" He winked at me when he mentioned Phalen keeping me up late.

"Hi, Larry," I said, joining him in the shade. It only made a few degrees difference, but anything helped. At times like this, I looked back on Finland's summers with longing. "Phalen's been great. He comes home and helps me make dinner, then with the clean up afterward. When things are clean to his satisfaction, he goes into his office and does his homework. We usually visit for a little while out on the patio before going to bed. Sounds pretty boring, doesn't it?"

"Knowing Phalen, it's anything but boring," he laughed, slapping me on the back, causing me to flinch at his touch. I stood for a moment with my head bowed, debating with myself about whether to talk to Larry. I had to do something to help stop the laughing in my head.

"Larry, if you don't have anything planned, would you come over for a little while? I need a distraction from school work."

"Sure, Jeff. I always enjoy our visits. When's Phalen expected home?"

"I never know for sure, probably in about an hour or so. I always get home first. I can usually get in a couple hours of studying before starting dinner. Well, now that you've heard how Phalen and I occupy ourselves, what have you been up to?" I asked, as we walked over to the house. "I haven't seen you all week. You have some big cases?"

"No, no cases, actually. I spend a great deal of time thinking about Helen, and how I would like things to play out. I can't believe she'll just fade away," Larry said, as he took a seat in the dining room. We are still married, after all. That can't last very long though, with things going the way they are. Since she's been gone, I'm becoming accustomed to a new way of living. I really don't think I could go back to the old way. I brought out a cold beer for Larry to drink. I was drinking my usual, cold water.

"One of the firm's partners and I had lunch yesterday. He knows what I've been going through with Helen, so he suggested I take a brief leave-of-absence so I could work through things. I jumped at the chance. I hadn't been able to concentrate on my cases anyhow. That's why I'm free in the middle of the day. I'm beginning to feel pressured to bring this thing between Helen and me to some sort of resolution.

"I even joined a gym!" he said, his mood brightening. "I'm not much of a weight lifter, but they've got other things that will be good for me, and it'll get me out of the house and give me an opportunity to meet other guys. I've always wanted to join a gym, but Helen complained that I already spent too much time away from home. I'm finding that I enjoy not having to justify everything I want to do. I'm like Phalen, I like to laugh." He looked down at his beer bottle, moving it in a little circle on the tabletop. "I can do that now," he said quietly, looking up at me, giving me a brief grin.

"You sound like you're glad to be alone, Larry, but at the same time there's a wistful look in your eyes. Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Yeah, a good time!" Larry laughed, eyes twinkling. "Seriously, Jeff, I don't know what I'm looking for. Maybe I'll know it if it steps on my foot. I can be pretty dense at times. How are things with you guys? Is Phalen feeling any better about his mother?"

"Yes, he's done a lot of soul searching lately. He told me that initially he wanted Helen to come back for him, but now he kind of hopes she stays away, for you. He wants her to stay away so you'll have a chance to be happy."

"Perceptive boy, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." We were both quiet for a few moments. I guess Larry was thinking about his wife. I was wondering how to begin.

"What's wrong, Jeff?" Larry said, breaking the silence, looking concerned. "There's more going on than being exhausted from school. You're tired, sure, but you're bothered by something bigger than exhaustion --- or the heat. Is everything okay with you guys?

"Phalen's not the only perceptive one in the family," I said, attempting to smile. "Things between Phalen and me are fine. I paused for a few moments, then swallowed and looked up at him. I need to talk about something else," I said, my voice shaking. "I'd like to take you up on an offer you made once, to listen to either Phalen or me if we needed to talk. I need to --- but I don't know how to begin." He gave me an encouraging look, but didn't say anything.

"Larry, I need to speak with you about something that's pretty awful. --- I know I'll cry, but I promised Phalen that I would speak with someone before talking to him. It's going to be tough for me to talk about, but would you mind listening? I sort of need a practice run, so maybe it won't be so difficult the next time." I was already choking up. It was difficult to breathe and I was trembling.

"Is it that serious, Jeff?" Larry asked, reaching across the table and placing his hands on top of mine to give me some support and to help me stop shaking. I flinched at his unexpected touch.

I barely nodded to his inquiry, trying to control my reaction to his hands on mine. They weren't really trying to hold me down --- were they? "Larry, I've held this in for over fifteen years. I don't even know how to begin," I said. Tears began to course down my cheeks. "Damn, I'm crying already. I wiped at my cheeks."

"Jeff, stop trying to postpone telling me whatever it is that's bothering you. Don't worry about the tears. Now, take a deep breath." He waited for a moment, while I took a halting breath. "---That's good. When you exhale, tell me what you need to say in one sentence. No explanations or anything, just straight out. Okay? Do you mind if I hold your hands?"

I shook my head, feeling like I was going to jump off a cliff. "Larry --- Larry I --- I can't do it. --- I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head, afraid to look at him. Larry grasped my hands, as I moved to stand up. I looked down at his hands covering mine, barely able to keep from reacting to him. He was holding me in place! I struggled to not yank my hands free. I knew Larry wasn't going to hurt me. He was offering comfort. I could barely control my breathing. I began to gasp. --- He was holding me down! Where could I run? I was alternately cold, then hot, trembling with pent up emotions.

"Yes you can, Jeff. You are going to tell me what's on your mind. You want to, or you wouldn't have started this conversation. I won't take no for an answer. --- So try to calm down and tell me what the problem is, in one sentence, just say it."

The tears were streaming down my cheeks. I took another ragged breath. "Larry --- I --- When I . . ." 'I had to tell him,' I thought. I would go crazy, if I didn't.

"Go on, Jeff. You're stronger than you know. You can do this. I'm not going to let anything happen to you?"

"You won't?" I whimpered, ceasing my attempt to find a means of escape. I was tired. 'This has to end,' I thought. 'I can't continue.'

Larry shook his head. "Jeff, you're safe. No one's going to hurt you," he said, softly.

"They did before," I said, one part of me wishing that I didn't sound so much like a child. "They said I'd been --- bad." I put my head down and began to sob. "That's --- that's what they always said. I --- I didn't think I was a bad boy. But --- but they said I was."

"Who said that, Jeff?" Larry asked, as he reached across to stroke my hair. "They said you'd been bad?"

I nodded and sniffed, no longer noticing the tears. "The teachers said it. I --- I didn't -- didn't want Mom and Dad to find out I was bad. I --- I was --- I was a good boy. I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't deserve to be punished. My brother was always in trouble. Mom told me one time that she would scream, if I got into as much trouble as Pat. They always said I was a good boy," I trailed off.

"I believe you Jeff. How old were you when your teachers said you'd been bad?"

"Ma olen kuusi. Kiltti --- kiltti, ala kerro aidilleni," I begged.

"You have to speak in English, Jeff. I'm sorry, but I can't understand what you're saying."

"But I don't speak English at school. Is it okay?"

"Today you can speak English, to me. Now tell me, how old you were, in English."

"I'm six. Please --- please don't tell my Mom. --- Okay?"

Larry continued to speak calmly, touching me, trying to calm me, whenever I gave him a chance. "I won't tell her, Jeff. What's happening to you? You say you're being punished for being bad?"

"I nodded, putting my hands over my face. "They make me take my clothes off," I sobbed, "and --- and they --- they do things to me. Everyday I'm punished, --- and they laugh at me when I cry. I hurt so bad," I moaned. --- "Can I go --- go home now, please? You won't tell on me, will you? I'll be good. I --- I promise.

"Se tekee niin pahasti kipeaa. Saanko menna --- menna kotiin nyt? Ethan sa anna minua ilmi? Ma --- ma lupaan olla kiltti."

"Speak English, Jeff."

"Please, no --- no --- no more. I hurt so bad. I won't do it again!" I shouted, trying to get away from Larry's grasp. He wouldn't let go!

The teachers held me down to keep me from running away. I wanted to run now, but they wouldn't let go of me. I had to get away! "Let go of me!" I yelled, as I struggled to free myself, knocking over my chair, overturning my glass of water. The glass slowly rolled to the table's edge and shattered as it hit the floor. I stood gasping for breath, looking for a way to escape.

"Jeff? --- Jeff, you're not six anymore. The men are gone!" Larry shouted.

"No they're not! They're always here!" I shouted back. "I can always hear them. They're here now, laughing at me," I yelled, trying to drown out the laughter, putting my hands over my ears, and shaking my head. "They're touching me, trying to hold me down! They're always trying to hold me down! They're always laughing! --- Anytime it's quiet I can hear them," I moaned. --- "I feel them touching me now. --- I hurt so bad. I hurt. --- Don't laugh at me, please. --- Can I go home, please? Please?" I sobbed, slowly dropping to my knees.

"Jeff, you're wrong. They're gone! No one is laughing at you, he said, attempting to speak in a soothing voice.

"Gone?" I murmured, crawling into another chair, bewildered. The men are gone? I could only hear them laughing in the distance. 'When would they come back?' I thought, wringing my hands. 'They always come back. They always do.'

"They can't hurt you any more, Jeff. They're gone. You're safe with Phalen and me. Neither of us will let anyone hurt you."

"Phalen? --- My dad doesn't know. I can't tell him. --- Phalen will protect me?" I whimpered.

"Yes he will, Jeff. He loves you very much. He won't let anyone hurt you. Neither will I. Do you believe me? It's important that you do. You're safe now. The bad people are gone --- forever. They'll never laugh at you again. Believe me."

"Larry? --- Why are you crying, Larry? There's no reason for you to cry," I said, as I reached over and touched the tears running down his cheek. "Are you crying because of me? I'm sorry. --- Mom will be mad. She doesn't know . . . "

"You've been a brave boy, Jeff. I'm glad you told me what your problem has been. Thank you for trusting me." Larry sniffed, rubbed his eyes, and stood up, walking around the table. He leaned over and put his arms around me. "You're safe now, Jeff. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, Phalen and you will help me. But --- I --- I can't stop --- crying. It's like I'm still six. --- I hurt so bad, Larry. I can't stop thinking about it. All my life, I've thought about it. And they laugh at me! Any time I'm quiet, I can hear them laugh at me. --- The men are gone?" I looked around the room to see if anyone was hiding. "I can't tell my parents. --- I cried myself to sleep every night, Larry. I think I've been crying ever since. --- Phalen won't mind me crying like this? Thank you for holding me. Dad never holds me. I'm afraid to let anyone get near me. Phalen is okay, though. He won't hurt me. --- Will he? You can hold me too. --- I don't want to keep crying. The teacher calls me a baby when I cry."

"Phalen won't mind, Jeff. He and I love you very much."

"You do? I've never --- never had anyone --- love me before," I said, beginning to hiccough. "I thought Kissa loved me, but she ran away. I talked to her every night, but she ran away. --- Mom told me she did. I didn't have anyone to talk to. --- Phalen loves me? --- Will he ever run away?"

"We both love you, Jeff. You've got to believe me. You are a good man. You've done nothing wrong. The men were bad, not you," Larry said, sniffing again, and tightening his hug. "Neither of us will leave you." He was leaning down so he could hug me. His face was next to mine. I could feel his breath against my ear, and one of his tears as it rolled down my neck. He hadn't shaved this morning. His cheek was rough. He smelled different than Phalen. --- Another of his tears ran down my neck.

"Thank --- thank you, Larry," I said, turning to him, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for listening to me. I'm sorry --- sorry I'm crying so much. I can't seem to stop. I thought Kissa would stay with me."

"Hello, guess who's home?" Phalen shouted as he came inside and saw Larry holding me while I sat at the table.

"Dad --- Jeff, what's happening? Why are you guys crying?"

As I saw Phalen, I began sobbing anew, covering my face. I felt like a small child who cries over a small injury, only when he sees his mother looking at him. Phalen rushed over and bent down, putting his arm around my shoulders. I could feel Larry let go of me and heard him tell Phalen to walk with him a moment.

Phalen seemed reluctant to release me. "Sure, Dad. Is Jeff okay?"

"He's made it over a big hurdle and he's making up for fifteen years of pain," Larry said, as they walked out of the house into the courtyard. "Let him know that you love him, Phalen. He needs to keep being told that, for a little while. That you love him, and that you won't let anything happen to him. Okay?"

"Sure, Dad. Will he be okay?"

"Yes, he started healing when he was finally able to speak with someone. We can help him out by listening and being there for him when he needs us. This will take a long time, Phalen. He's not going to get better over night. Now, go back in there, hold him and listen to him. He needs you to be nearby."

I heard Larry and Phalen's conversation, then Phalen's slow footsteps as he came back into the dining room. The front door closed as Larry left. Phalen stood next to me, not saying anything. I had stopped crying for the moment, but still had my face hidden, feeling miserable, embarrassed, because Phalen was seeing me like this.

"Jeff," Phalen said, barely above a whisper. "Jeff, is it okay if I touch you? I don't know what I should do. I want to hold you. Is it okay?"

I stood up and turned toward him, extending my arms, inviting him to hold me. I still couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

"Oh, Jeff, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it would hurt so much for you to talk," he said, holding me in his arms. "Dad said you're going to be okay."

"Oh, Phalen, I'm so miserable. I feel like I'm still a little boy. I don't want you to feel bad along with me. I don't know what to do to stop hurting."

"Jeff, on some level you've been miserable since I met you, and I bet for a long time before that. You're only going to make me feel bad if you keep things bottled up like you have been. By talking to Dad, you've taken the first step toward getting better. It's that first step that's such a bitch. C'mon, let's go lie down so I can hold you. It's better than standing up. If you want to talk, I'll listen. If you need more time, that's okay too." Phalen took my hand and led me to the bedroom. He slipped off his shoes and then climbed onto the bed, sitting with his legs crossed. "C'mon, Jeff, get up here so we can cuddle."

"Phalen, I'm sure I'll cry," I said. "I can't seem to stop."

"Good! You've kept things bottled up for too long. Jeff, you don't have to be embarrassed to cry in front of me. I live with you because I love you, and I want to help you in any way that I can. Like Dad said, you're safe now. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you, just as you would do for me. "C'mon, big man," Phalen said, as I lay down beside him. He put his arm around me and held me, slowly rubbing my back as I cried on his shoulder. I was crying for the little boy I once was, for the childhood I never had, for my missing cat --- all the things that I had kept bottled up since I was six.

We lay there for a long time without speaking. Phalen lay close to me and continued to rub my back, until I finally cried myself out. We both must have fallen asleep. I woke up as it was getting dark, desperately needing to pee. Phalen groaned as I tried to move.

"Are you okay?" he mumbled, still not awake.

"Gotta pee," I said, as I scrambled over him and into the bathroom. I finished, splashed some cold water onto my face, then went back into the bedroom. Phalen was sitting with his legs crossed in the center of the bed. He looked up as I came in.

"Better?"

"Better, and thank you --- for holding me." I sat down on the bed, facing him, and took his hands.

"Phalen, I'm going to tell you a story. Don't interrupt, okay?

"K"

I took a couple breaths to steady myself. "I knew a little boy once. He was the happiest guy I had ever known." I stopped a moment, in an attempt to prevent my emotions from overcoming me again. "He had nice parents, a brother, and a cat named Kissa. He and his cat were best friends. The cat liked to play in the snow, and the little boy was always afraid that he wouldn't be able to find Kissa when she went outside in the winter, because she was white.

"When the little boy was old enough, his mother took him to school. He had fun at school, because there were lots of other boys and girls to play with. He had always dreamed of going to school, and of all the fun he would have.

"But not everyone at the school was nice." I paused again, and looked down, not wanting to watch Phalen as I continued. He gave my hands a squeeze.

"I'm here Jeff. It's okay."

I nodded. "One day, the little boy's teacher made him stay after school, saying he had been bad. The little boy didn't think he had done anything wrong, but the teacher said he had, so it must have been true. --- He didn't want his mother and father to know he'd been bad. His brother was always bad, but he never was.

"When all the other children had left, another teacher came into the room, and they spanked the little boy. They --- they had him --- him take his clothes off, so they could spank him.

"Then --- then." Phalen, held my hands tighter. "The teachers did things to him that hurt. He cried, and they held him down and laughed. They told him that if he told anyone about what they had done, they would tell everyone what a bad boy he was. He didn't understand what they were doing to him, or why. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong.

"After they finished with him, he got dressed and walked home, trying not to cry. If his parents saw that he had been crying, they would wonder what was wrong --- and he couldn't tell them. --- When he got home, he told his parents that he didn't feel well, then went to bed and cried himself to sleep. He tried to think of ways to keep from having to go to school. He pretended that he was sick. He even tried to hurt himself, so he wouldn't have to go to school and see his teachers. But whenever he came back, they hurt him more than before.

"Each day, when he came home, he would sit alone in his room with Kissa on his lap, petting her, telling her how he felt and what was happening to him. She would listen to him, and the little boy knew that she would never hurt him. They were best friends.

"As time went on, the little boy became more afraid. He was afraid of what the teachers would tell his parents. He even stopped playing with Kissa, so ---so, she ran away, to find --- find another boy to play with. Then he was really alone. --- Even Kissa had hurt him."

I paused again. "The little boy was sad all the time. When the boy entered second grade, he was afraid his teachers would be just like the ones from the year before. They seemed to be nice though, and never did hurt him. They never laughed at him. He never let them touch him, though. The two teachers who had hurt him before were gone somewhere. The teachers were gone, but the memory of what they had done was still there.

"As the boy got older, he realized that he had been lied to. He realized that he had done nothing wrong. It was the teachers who were bad, not him. They had used his fear that his parents would be displeased as a means of controlling him. Even though the men were gone, he was still afraid that he would meet someone else who would hurt him. He thought that if he stayed away from everyone, he wouldn't be hurt again. He built imaginary walls around himself to keep other people out and to prevent him from harming someone else. Those walls isolated him, which is just what he wanted."

Phalen had loosened his grip on my hands and was now holding them loosely, rubbing a thumb over the back of each hand. He remained quiet, but when I stole a glance at him, his eyes were full of sympathy. --- I didn't want sympathy. I wanted him to understand what I had gone through, and why I was behaving as I had been.

"When the boy became a teenager and started thinking about sex, he became even more frightened. He realized that he was sexually attracted to other boys his own age. He thought that he had become just like the teachers who had hurt him! Those walls in his mind had prevented him from knowing any other boys like himself. He felt that he was completely alone. He worked hard in school. He exercised hard. He swam, anything to keep him from thinking about sex. He vowed that he would never hurt anyone, so he told himself that he would never get close enough to someone to hurt them and that he would never have sex, because he knew that sex was a way to hurt people.

"Phalen, those walls that the little boy built are still there. They've kept people out for fifteen years. They also kept him isolated. It was what he wanted. When he went away to school he met a nice boy that he had lots of fun with, but he doesn't know how to break down those walls. They've become a part of him. He doesn't want to do the things that hurt him when he was little. He doesn't want to hurt, and he doesn't want to hurt his friend. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to tell his friend what the problem is --- so he told him a fairy tale, and hoped his friend would understand how much he wants to do those things, but can't --- because he's afraid. --- The End." I finished the story, still holding Phalen's hands with my head bowed, not wanting to see his reaction.

"Jeff," Phalen said, softly, "that's not the end of the story." He reached up to touch my tear-streaked cheek, tilting my head up, so I could see him. "You didn't turn to the last page, big boy. --- It says that the little boy's friend wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him, and that all he wants is for the two of them to live happily ever after. That's the way fairy tales are supposed to end, and I know that this one will." Phalen's thumbs continued to rub the back of my hands as we sat in silence.

"It's okay?" I finally asked him.

"Of course, Jeff. I can't begin to imagine what you've gone through. You never told anyone?"

"No, not until I told your father. It was harder to tell the first time, and I wanted to be able to tell you without crying. I did pretty well. At first, I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want my parents to know that I had caused some sort of trouble. Later, I didn't know who to talk to, or even if it was necessary. I seemed to have everything under control. After all, I had built those walls. I didn't think I needed any help. I didn't know any other people like me. --- I didn't know anyone. I was really convinced that those guys had made me gay, and that being gay meant being mean and hurting other people. When I got older, I realized that I had to be wrong. But by then I was embarrassed by my fear of having sex, and by never having had sex.

"I've lived my whole life in fear, it seems. Those men are always with me, Phalen, looking over my shoulders, laughing at me. Whenever things are quiet, I can hear them. Sometimes I think I can even feel them touching me. I think the only reason I could have any kind of sex with you was because you had as little experience as I. You also weren't threatening to me. You were a little younger than me, you didn't pressure me to do things I was afraid to do --- and you laughed a lot. I couldn't imagine you being violent. Sometimes, when you touch me unexpectedly though, I have a tough time not flinching because when I feel the touch I know it's one of those teachers. I know that your touch is okay --- though when you mentioned that you could be a bad boy and might like to be spanked, I began to wonder," I said, attempting to grin.

"Oh geez, Jeff. I'm sorry. I should have realized that I was doing something . . . "

"I was teasing you, Phalen. Don't start trying to censor what you say to save my feelings, okay? Now that I've sort of 'come out,' I'll let you know if I can't handle something. Even if I don't tell you, now you know what my behavior means, so don't stop teasing me and laughing, okay? That's one of the things I love about you."

"Sure, Jeff. I'll try, but this is going to take some getting used to, for both of us, I think." Phalen and I sat cross-legged in the center of the bed, lost in thought. "Jeff, I love you so much," he finally said. "Thank you for trusting me with your story. C'mere, let me hold you." We lay back on the bed and cuddled, Phalen ran his fingers through my hair, or over my chest, as I told him about growing up in Finland. It was the first time that I had been able to talk to anyone about where I grew up, since coming to the States.

"Isn't there anything you miss about Finland? Anything that was good?" he asked, as he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Yes, the Northern Lights. They're called revontulet in Finnish. They're one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. It's funny, when I was younger I always thought they should be accompanied by music. One night I listened to Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony as I watched them. Phalen, I don't think I've ever been so moved. It was like I was watching my own private light show. I thought at the time that probably no one else in the world was seeing the Northern Lights with Beethoven accompaniment. I miss revontulet --- and on days with temperatures like we've been having, I miss the cooler temperatures."

"I thought Finland was a beautiful country."

"It is, very beautiful, and to be fair, I'm sure there are lots of things that I'd miss, if I thought about it. I grew up there. It's a part of me. It's like the sauna that we've never used. I'm Finnish. I had to have one, even though it would have been easier to step outside. The heat's the same." I grinned at him, as I ran my finger along the length of his nose. I'm much happier here though," I said, when he licked my finger tip as it brushed his lips. He smiled at me and winked as I moved my finger away from his lips.

We spoke of many things while Phalen either held me or slowly rubbed my chest. Eventually, we both must have drifted off to sleep.

I gradually became aware of my surroundings, and that it was morning. My eyes were crusty with dried tears. Phalen and I were still dressed, lying on top of the bedclothes. After talking late into the night, both of us had been totally spent. I was worn out from the outpouring of emotions, and Phalen from trying to console me. I was stiff, my head ached, and I needed to pee again in the worst way. I also decided that I was starving.

"Phalen," I said, trying to gently awaken him. When that didn't work, I moved his arm off of my chest, and limped to the bathroom. I hadn't moved in such a long time, my legs were slow to wake up. The returning circulation prevented me from moving as quickly as I would have wished, so I limped as I tried to hurry. I felt much better after relieving myself and washing my face. I knew that Phalen would be awake before long, so I hustled into the kitchen to begin some coffee. As the coffee maker spit and sputtered on its way to filling the pot, Phalen came in and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a brief nuzzle against the back of my neck.

"Better today, Jeff?" he asked, tightening his grasp.

I nodded. "Thank you, Phalen --- for being so understanding and everything. I doubt that I could have done what I did yesterday without your and Larry's help."

"It's still not over, Jeff," Phalen said, turning me around and tilting my head up so I wasn't staring at the floor. "You know that, don't you? You've taken the most difficult step. Now, the others will be easier --- for sure. You just have to remember one thing."

"What's that?"

"You're not alone. Dad's here to help you, and I'm more in love with you today than ever. I'm also proud of you. But mostly, I love you."

"Phalen, I was afraid that you couldn't handle all the stuff you learned about me last night."

"Listen to yourself, Jeff! You're acting like you were one of the bad guys. You didn't do anything wrong. You were the victim. There is nothing for you to apologize for. My love for you is unconditional. My feelings for you aren't going to change because you've been abused as a child. You still haven't begun to believe that I love you, have you? Do you think that you're not worthy of my love because of what you've been through, or is it because you think no one has ever loved you, so I can't?"

"I don't think anyone has ever loved me, Phalen. I have a difficult time believing it, when you tell me that you do. I don't have any frame of reference to go by. I think that I'm also afraid of becoming too attached to someone. I think that I've already done that, though," I said, grinning at him. In fact, I think I'm quite a bit more than attached, wouldn't you say?"

"You're damn right, and that's just the way I want it. We're very much alike, aren't we, big man?" Phalen said, pulling back from me so he could look into my eyes. He was quiet for a few moments, until I raised my eyebrows, asking if he had something more to say. "Damn, you've got beautiful eyes. I never realized how green they are."

"You were saying we're alike?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm afraid that I'm not loved, because Mom's having problems of her own and decided to leave, making me think she had abandoned me because I had done something wrong. You think you're not loved because you've been abused. We both have to remember that us being loved has nothing to do with those things. We are both good people. Nothing I do is going to change my mother, and nothing you do is going to change your past. We have to face that, and appreciate what we have today. We have each other. That's important. And we have my father.

"I also have to believe that your parents really do love you. If they knew what you've been through, they'd feel terrible and would try to help you in any way they could. You told me yourself how your father said he hoped you wouldn't shut him out. A man who doesn't love his son wouldn't say something like that, would he?"

"I don't know --- You're probably right. I can't deal with my parents right now, though."

"Fine, but don't begin thinking that no one loves you Jeff, because you'd be wrong. Maybe your parents never told you how much they care about you, but that doesn't mean they don't. Right now though, all I want is for you to actually start believing me when I tell you how much I care. I plan on hanging around for a real long time, and I wouldn't do that for someone that didn't mean the world to me. Dad thinks you're pretty special too. Jeff, he loves both of us. Did you realize that? I think he feels like he has a second son, whenever he's around you."

"But, Phalen, I don't know if I can ever have real sex with you."

"What! --- Jeff, what do you think we've been having, two or three times a day? It's certainly more than masturbation!"

"You know what I mean. Anal sex."

"Jeff, if that ever happens it will be nice, I'm sure. But if it never does, so what? In fact, if we couldn't have sex again, I wouldn't love you any less. I'd have to get my hand back into shape, but I would still feel the same about you."

"Listen to you. Have to get your hand back into shape."

"Well, it's true. My baseball coach has been complaining that I'm not gripping the bat as hard as I once did. That's because I'm not getting the practice with that hand, that I used to."

"You made that up," I laughed.

"Well, maybe, but you know what I mean. I'd also have to have some sort of pacifier made, so I'd have something to suck on, to keep a smile on my face. --- I know," he said, eyes beginning to sparkle. "It could be one that looked like your dick, only smaller. Think of it Jeff. I could be the first gay man on our block with a Jeff Layson penis-pacifier! Maybe I could apply for a penis-pacifier patent, you think? I could get rich! Every gay man would want one!" Phalen had let go of me and had begun pacing back and forth, waving his arms.

"I can hear it now. Nosey Mrs. Callahan across the street asks Dad, 'Larrrry, tell me,' she says in her frail voice. 'How did Phaaalen become a millllionaire over night?" she would ask, blinking up at him, from under the brim of her big straw hat, urging him to answer with a tap of her cane against his leg.

"'Well, Ethel,' Dad would say. 'It's like this. --- He struck it rich when he invented the penis-pacifier.' --- What's so funny?" Phalen asked me, standing still, and quirking his eyebrows at me. He was trying not to grin at his ludicrous plan to become wealthy. When I didn't answer, Phalen continued the story, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I can almost hear her gasp," Phalen giggled. "I bet she'd even drop her binoculars as she covers her mouth in shock! --- She carries those binoculars everywhere!"

"You're funny. That's one of the things I love about you, Phalen. You're crazy."

"And handsome, and witty, and look great in a jock," he said, turning around and wiggling his butt, looking back at me, from over his shoulder.

"Yes, and totally lacking in humility."

"What's that?" he laughed. "Seriously, Jeff, are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, Phalen, thanks to you and Larry. --- I don't think it's possible for me to recover from what happened to me, completely, but I now think I can learn to live with it, and we may be able to have a full sex life sometime. You'd be willing to help me out with that one, I'm sure."

"You bet, big man. I'm looking forward to it. If that's what you want, we'll work on it slowly. Maybe we could rent some dirty movies and play show and do."

I must have looked puzzled because he continued. "You know. The guys on the screen show us how it's done, and then we try. --- But that's in the future," he said quickly. "I bet we can come up with a bunch of ways to help desensitize you. It's probably like getting over a fear of snakes or something. First you look at pictures, then you talk about snakes. After doing that, you look at actual snakes, and wham," he said, clapping his hands together, "before you know it, you have 'em crawling all over you and want one for a pet! We're at the talking stage right now, huh? Once, you're over that, we can go on from there.

"Now, would you believe it, I haven't had any coffee this morning? And, I'm starved! We missed dinner and breakfast. I'm 'bout ready to stop talking, I'm so hungry," he said, raising his hand to his brow, and staggering around the kitchen, miming an imminent bout of dizziness.

"Is that what it takes, Phalen?"

"Better watch it, big boy, or I'll pinch your wanger," he said, grabbing for me as he staggered past. He giggled, as I scrambled, trying to keep out of his grasp.

~End - Chapter Six~

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment on this story. I love to hear from you, and appreciate your input and your constructive criticism.

If you would like for me to send you a pic of the guys that inspired the main characters in this story, email me.

There are a few words and phrases in Finnish that appear in 'Phalen'. Information that is transmitted in text format, such as this story, when it's uploaded to Nifty, cannot reproduce the punctuation used on a few letters of the Finnish alphabet. I have chosen to use the closest English equivalent. To any Finnish speakers, my apologies.

Translations:

Ei! Lopeta! (No! Stop!)

ala . . . ala (Don't . . . Don't)

revontulet (Northern Lights)

Ma olen kuusi. Kiltti --- kiltti, ala kerro aidilleni." ("I'm six. Please --- please don't tell my Mom. --- Okay)

"Se tekee niin pahasti kipeaa. Saanko menna --- menna kotiin nyt? Ethan sa anna minua ilmi? Ma --- ma lupaan olla kiltti." ("I hurt so bad. Can I go --- go home now please? You won't tell on me will you? I'll be good. I --- I promise.")

My thanks to Larry S. for his assistance with the Finnish language, with his help in proofreading, and for being a good friend. Thanks also to Evan Bradley for his continuing encouragement, and for helping me make 'Phalen' a better story.

A number of readers have written asking for the correct pronunciation of the character's names. They are:

Phalen (FAY-lin) Kerin (KEAR-in) Thian (THE as in Theater (THE-in)

Thanks for reading.

Roy roynm@mac.com