The following story is a romantic tale about love between males. If that is offensive to you, or if it is not legal to read it where you live, then consider yourself warned!
All events, characters and places mentioned in this story are a product of the author's imagination, and the copyright belongs to the author.
A special thank you to Tim for editing and encouragement.
Any and all comments are welcome and all mail will be answered promptly.
sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com
Sam, chapter 2
(Told from Jay's viewpoint.)
My head was practically spinning as I watched Lee walk away down the block. Then when he turned around suddenly to see if I was watching and waved at me, my heart literally gave a lurch. It almost felt like it was turning a cartwheel inside of my ribcage. But no wonder, really, because that's exactly what I felt like doing right then and there on the walk in front of our house. I was feeling so happy I could hardly contain myself inside of my skin! I just wanted to jump up and down and shout out my happiness and declare to the whole world the love which at that moment was swelling to the bursting point within my breast. But in spite of my euphoric elation, grim, cold reality hastened to remind me that I had better get a lid clamped down quick on my innermost feelings and not let them show on the outside, not even to my family. Especially not to my family. I knew my dad well enough to understand that instinctively. And my poor mousy mom would never dare to oppose him--not for anything or anyone. Not even for me. I never doubted that she loved me and my little sister, but her slavish fear of my dad far exceeded her love for us, and always had. Probably always would. Poor Mom. And poor us, especially my sweet little sister Jenna. I had long since given up shedding tears over it for my own sake, but I did still weep for Jenna sometimes, when alone in my bed at night thinking about her repeated and generally futile efforts to gain some assurance of being loved and accepted by our unreasonable and overbearing dad and our dispirited and downtrodden mom.
I wanted to stand there on the step and watch Lee's retreating back until he turned the corner at the end of the block and disappeared from sight, but I didn't dare. If my dad was watching from the window he would surely demand to know who I was standing there "mooning over" and why. That's no doubt the exact phrase he would use. He was always so sarcastic. Everything he ever said to me was tinged with a nasty, acidic bite. For as long as I could remember, I had always felt he hated me. Maybe he didn't, really, back in the days when I was a baby and a toddler, back before I could remember. I don't know. But ever since he realized that I was destined to be a "runt", as he loved to call me, I knew he hated me. He never missed a chance to berate and belittle me and to let me know what a disappointment I was to him. What a failure. What a worthless runt. Totally unworthy to be his son and to bear the Evans name.
My dad was a big man. Huge, really. He was way over six feet tall and broad and beefy. He had been a football player in high school and a good one too, I suppose. That is, if being a remorseless, mean brute, totally devoid of fear and feeling for others makes one a good football player. His younger brother, my uncle Robert, told me once that he had been like a steamroller, flattening any opposing player who dared to get in his way. He had always been a bully in school, but his size and his football prowess made him the alpha male in the pack of jock wolves back then, and everyone catered to him. To tell you the truth, everyone had catered to him all his life. No one ever dared to stand up to him, and he had always gotten his own way, according to what Uncle Robert said. Getting his way had included getting the cutest little cheerleader too. He had claimed and marked her as his own property from the outset and no one ever dared contest it--least of all, she herself. He never was a scholar, but not because he was dumb. Oh no. He was smart enough. Clever and cunning, anyway. But he never applied himself to his lessons and his teachers always gave him barely passing grades, just enough to keep him in school and eligible for football, and no doubt out of a sense of self-preservation as well, to prevent him having to repeat a class so they would have to put up with him for another year. No sooner did he and his cheerleader girlfriend graduate from high school when they got married and Dad started working at the local power plant. Just short of ten months later I was born. And less than half a year after that, we moved for the first of many times, because Dad lost his job at the plant. Every time we moved it was the same story. He could never hold down a job for long because of insubordination to his bosses and inability to get along with his workmates. But it was never his fault, oh no, and woe betide the fool who dared to suggest that he might need to consider changing his own behavior.
I wasn't very old before it became evident that I had inherited my mother's short stature and her thin and more or less fragile body type, rather than my father's impressive height and brawn. I had also inherited my mother's pale complexion, her thin, mousy brown hair and her gray eyes. And to top it all, I had inherited her timid nature. My dad began very early to call me a sissy and to say cruel, belittling things to me, like: "How's my little girl today?" (when he was in a good mood) or, worse: "Get yer damned pansy ass off of that chair and bring me my paper, runt." (when he was feeling mean). I was never particularly interested in playing ball, or in sports in general, but I understood he would have thought it demeaning to even try to play catch, or anything else, with a "sissy like me", and I never expected it. For as long as I could remember, I just did my best to stay out of his way and to be as inconspicuous as possible in an effort to avoid his acid tongue. Fortunately, he was never physically violent. I don't remember ever being hit. But words can be wounding enough. I don't think he ever hit my mother either, but neither was she spared his verbal cruelty. Ironically, Jenna took more after Dad than Mom physically. She was tall for her age. Even though she was four years younger than me, she was already nearly as tall. And she had our dad's thick, wavy auburn hair and green eyes. Dad never belittled her like he did me and Mom. But neither did he show her love. I honestly don't think he knew how to love anyone. And besides, I'm quite sure he was mad at her simply for being a girl.
I've always wished my dad could be more like his brother. I don't know how two brothers in the same family could be so totally different from each other. Not surprisingly, really, Dad hates Robert too. He absolutely can't stand him and refuses to even speak to him on the rare occasions when they are together at family gatherings. But I love Robert. He is so cool. He's not married, even though he's almost thirty now. He's big and tall, though not as beefy as my dad. He's more slender, but has a really nice build. And he's so nice. He loves to joke and tease and he isn't ashamed to play with us kids, even those of us who aren't jocks like him. I got to know him really well two years ago when I spent two weeks during the summer with my grandma and grandpa Evans and he was there too, home from Los Angeles where he lives. He works as a trainer in a gym there. We became really good friends then, and I miss him so much. I wish he lived closer because I hardly ever see him, and my dad would never allow him to come and visit us here.
When I went into the house after waving goodbye to Lee, I wondered what kind of reception I would get. I had never been away at meal time before so I couldn't believe my absence wouldn't gain me an interrogation, or at the very least some snide remark from my dad. I hardly dared hope I could pass unnoticed up to my room where I would spend the rest of the evening doing homework in peace and quiet. Dad was sitting in his usual armchair in the living room reading the paper when I walked past. He lowered the paper an instant and glanced at me as I walked by him, but wonder of wonders, he said nothing and I continued on past the kitchen where Mom was finishing up the supper dishes. I said a hasty "Hi, Mom!" on my way by, and ran on up the stairs toward my room before she had time to answer. Jenna's room was right across the hall from mine and her door was open and she was there waiting for me.
"Mom said you were having pizza with a friend from school," she said, as soon as I appeared in her line of vision. It was worded like a statement but her inflection made it a question, and the expression on her face was also like a question mark.
"Yeah," I replied. "Lee. He's in my history class and we've been working on an assignment together."
"I saw him just now when you came home. He's cool."
"Mmm hmm." I mumbled. Jenna's room was on the front side of the house, and while she sat at her desk facing the window she could easily see the front walk, so she'd obviously been spying on us.
I could tell she wasn't really satisfied with my curt answers. She was curious and wanted to talk. Jenna and I were close. We found the connection with each other that we were lacking with our parents and we relied very heavily on each other to fill that void. We generally shared everything with each other. No secrets. But obviously, I wasn't overly anxious to tell her about the amazing things that had happened that day with Lee. Actually, I had never talked with her about Lee--about the crush I'd had on him since the first day of school, about watching him whenever I could and thinking and dreaming about him every waking minute and sometimes even at night in my sleep as well. That had seemed too private to share, even with dear, sweet Jenna. Besides, it made me too queer. I couldn't let anyone, not even Jenna, know that my heart beat for a boy rather than a girl. I knew my dad hated queers more than anyone. Oh, he hated sissies too, definitely. Many times when he was especially enraged with someone, some guy at work, for example, or even his boss, he would rant and rave, calling them "that damned sissy". Of course those guys weren't sissies any more than he was, but that was about the lowest name he could think to call them. I know he thought me a sissy, but he never went so far as to think of me as a queer. That would have been too humiliating for him to endure. That his only son was a sissy was bad enough, but for him to actually be a queer... Impossible! I had never really admitted to myself, even, that I was gay. I knew that I was head-over-heels in love with Lee, but I had some kind of a mental block that kept me from fully realizing my own gayness. Some day I would marry, of course I would. But that was in the dim, distant future. And Lee was here and now. The light of my life. My love. And my one and only secret from my sister Jenna.
I think Jenna had begun to suspect I was holding out on her, and she was a little miffed, a little hurt. She had been asking me a lot lately about girls. Didn't I have a girlfriend yet? What did I think of the girls at this new school? Which girls did I think were cute? And so on and so on. For awhile I had played along, telling her about one girl or another, but always insisting that none of them was my girlfriend. Well, she agreed that yes, I was almost too timid to actually have a girlfriend, but surely I must have special feelings for some girl at least. I wished she would just drop the subject, but she was nothing if not persistent. She had had dozens of boyfriends already, even though she was only in the sixth grade. But every week or two it was some different boy she liked. And she always told me about them in detail. She hid nothing from me and she expected an answering candidness from my side. But like I said, she was beginning to suspect I was keeping something back from her.
Jenna knew me very well and besides that, she was very perceptive. Call it a woman's natural intuition, perhaps, even at her young age. But I knew it was very hard to keep anything secret from her for long--especially when she made it her business to know everything. I had just had the most revolutionary experience of my young life that afternoon, of course, and the thing I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined possible had actually happened. My beloved Lee had made love to me, and not only that, he had said he loved me as well, and I believed him. Oh yes, I believed him! I just wanted to sing. My very soul was singing, and I wanted to sing out loud, I was so happy. I tried my best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary so Jenna wouldn't get suspicious and ask me too many questions, but I could see she was starting to look at me a bit strange and all at once she blurted out, "Alright, Jay. Tell me."
"Tell you what?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could manage.
"Tell me whatever it is you're not telling me."
"What makes you think I'm not telling you something?"
"Ja-a-a-a-ay," she said, in that tone of voice that meant "don't fool with me".
Well, I always did know when I was beat. And when it's a fight you deep down inside don't really want to win in the first place, you give in pretty easy. I was practically dying to share my joy with someone, and who better to share it with than my sweet sister Jenna who had always meant more to me than anyone else in the whole world? Except that now Lee was number one, and Jenna, though still unbeknownst to her, had been relegated to number two. But how would I tell her without revealing more about myself than I was prepared for her to know? More even than I was fully prepared to acknowledge to myself--that I was gay? Oh hell! Why did life have to be so complicated?
I flopped backwards onto Jenna's bed with a loud sigh and lay there with one arm thrown over my eyes.
"Jay..." she almost whispered.
After a minute I sat up and looked earnestly at her. "Jenna, promise me you won't tell a soul..."
"Yes...?" She knew some really serious revelation was forthcoming, then, and she looked at me with eyes as big as saucers.
"You promise?" I asked again.
"Of course I promise, Jay. Besides, who would I tell?"
That was a thought. Who indeed? I knew she wasn't any closer to either of our parents than I was, and I trusted her not to betray my secrets to anyone outside the family. We really did only have each other to confide in.
"Jen..." I began. And then I couldn't bring myself to say any more. I had to tell her. Hell, I wanted to tell her. But it was so hard to actually do it.
She had the sense to keep quiet for once and she just waited, staring at me, hardly breathing.
And finally I blurted it out, "Jen, I'm in love!"
"You're what?!" She couldn't believe me.
"Honest, Jen... It's so wonderful... I... I..." And I started to cry.
Dear Jenna then threw herself into my arms and hugged me tight and held me for a minute until I got a hold of myself again and wiped my sleeve across my face to stop my tears. And then slowly, haltingly at first, but with growing enthusiasm, I told her about Lee and about how I'd had a crush on him since the first day I saw him, watching him and wanting him from afar, and about how we had finally been thrown together by our joint history assignment and had really gotten to know each other and then... And then I almost started to tell her about the best part of all, about what had happened at his house that very afternoon... But I caught myself in time. That part just had to be kept secret, between me and Lee alone.
Jenna, of course, knew that there was more. But bless her heart, she was wise enough to not press me. I think she had been shocked enough for one sitting. She would have to take time to digest what I had already divulged. She just sat there looking at me, speechless, her mouth slightly open, her eyes huge. I searched her face, her eyes, for some reaction. I was so afraid I would find something ugly there. Disgust... Condemnation... Rejection... But no... Dear Jenna. I read only love in her big emerald eyes. Love, yes, but also a dawning understanding. It's like the pieces of the jigsaw were suddenly falling into place. She was finally beginning to see the picture and all the unspoken and half unconscious questions she had had about me were now being answered. And she just accepted this "new" brother of hers wholly, without reservation, without passing judgment. My love for her grew tenfold, no a hundredfold, in that moment. I was so blessed to have her, and then I burst into tears again and once again she held me tight while sobs shook my body, tears running down her cheeks as well.
"I... I... I... love you, Jen..." I sobbed.
"I love you too, Jay," she answered softly as she wiped the tears first from my cheeks and then from her own. "And I'm so happy for you. But we mustn't let Dad and Mom find out about Lee. They would never understand." A shudder ran through her as she thought about the horrible possibility that they would somehow get wind of it. So I knew I had a loyal ally. She would never betray me and I felt such a wonderful freedom at that moment, knowing that I could share my deepest secrets with my sister and they would be safe with her. Some things are just too big, too overwhelming, to keep locked up inside of oneself. They simply have to be shared with someone else. It's so true that a joy shared is doubled, and a sorrow shared is cut in half.
The rest of the evening passed, then, almost like a dream. I felt like I was floating on air and that if I were any happier I would surely die. And I could hardly wait for the next day to come so that I could see Lee again. But then, suddenly, I thought of Sam and was nervous about how she would fit into the picture, how she would react if she sensed I was somehow coming between her and Lee. They were always so inseparable. I know, Lee had assured me she would be fine with it, but I just couldn't see how she could be. So my euphoria was dampened more than a little bit by that new worry. I tossed and turned for the longest time in bed that night, vacillating between happiness and apprehension. But finally, sleep overtook me and then suddenly it was morning, the beginning of a new day. The first day of the rest of my life, like the cliche goes.