Kenny 12: Senior Year Plus One

"You were totally awesome tonight, Charlie!" Kenny said as we drove home.
"It wasn't me," I replied honestly. "Those kids really work hard, and they're a good bunch of singers."
"I didn't mean the musical," he corrected, "although that was pretty good too. I meant with Conrad."
"You were listening?"
"Not exactly. I came in to find out where you'd gone and heard you two talking. I didn't want to embarrass him so I didn't let him know I was there. But don't you think it's a little risky telling him about us? What about the church? The choir?"
"Too bad," I said more defiantly than I felt. "I wasn't gonna lie to him, and he needed to know he wasn't alone. He needed to know that being gay doesn't mean you're worthless."

"But what about his crush on you?"
"I don't know, Kenny. I tried to explain how it is, that I don't consider myself any more available than if you were a girl, and hopefully he'll get the message and try to get over it."

"You think he'll come back to the choir in the fall?"
"No idea. I hope so. I think it'd be kinda neat having someone else our own age around who's gay. You know he's the first I've met that I'm sure about. I think we could all benefit from just having someone to talk to."
"You could get into a lot of trouble too," Kenny pointed out.
"I don't know how. It's not like we were going to take a romp in the hay."
"They could blame you for making him that way and you know it!"
"I don't care, Kenny! But I just couldn't let Connie go on thinking he was the only freak in the universe. Don't you remember how..."
"Yeah, I remember only too well. I still feel that way sometimes. You took a bit of a chance, but I'm proud of you for it."
"Does that mean I get some tonight?" I said with a grin.
"You randy queer!" Kenny chuckled. "Don't you ever think of anything else?"
"Nope. Not when you're around."

We were in bed by 11, and had absolutely nothing to do all the next week! So it was after 3:00 before we slept. We planned to just sleep in Monday morning, then get up and do some things for Mom around the house. It was a luxury we hadn't had together for a long time. Of course we had a really great "romp in the hay," but then it was time for our favorite pastime again: lying and running our hands over each other's body, scraping our fingernails gently, softly, over each other’s skin.

"You know what I'd like to do?" I said suddenly.
"Mmmm?" Kenny moaned, almost asleep.
"I'd like to go visit Uncle Brad for a few days. Suppose Mom would mind? I'd really like to see him, and you've never met him."
"I think she'll be glad to get rid of us for a few days," Kenny laughed, "so she can get some rest. There's never any rest as long as we're around."

We spent Monday as planned, doing up a few chores around the house, and then we were up early Tuesday morning, on the bike, headed for the farm. The ride was uneventful, if a little thrilling. Kenny hadn't driven my bike very much and wanted to drive, and Kenny liked speed! That part of the Trans-Canada Highway had just recently been finished, so we had brand new pavement most of the way and he took full advantage of the smooth surface. We drove the 120 miles in record time, the intoxicating sensation of speed and wind lifting us both to a higher level of consciousness.

"Aren't you even a little nervous about meeting Unc?" I yelled in Kenny's ear.
"No," he yelled over his shoulder. "I feel I already know him. Should I be nervous?"
"I think I would be under the circumstances," I answered. But that was the basic difference between Kenny and me. He was so self confident, so sure of himself, and yet not conceited. He was just anxious to get on with the job of living and presented himself to all he met with no pretentiousness; and if he wasn't accepted that way, then he regretted it but didn't dwell on it.

We arrived on the farm just before lunch and were welcomed warmly as I knew we would be. Unc had just finished his spring planting and was cleaning and storing his planters, and getting out the next group of machinery in his never ending schedule: the potato cultivators and haying equipment. The hay wasn't quite ready, so Unc took Wednesday off and took Kenny and me fishing.

"Your uncle is so cool!" Kenny reflected as we lay in bed. "It's hard to believe he's your father's brother."
"Yeah, I know," I agreed. "Unc says my father really does love me but he just can't show it. He said when they were growing up my father was the same. He bullied his brothers and tried to run their lives for them... he just didn't believe that they had the intelligence to make their own decisions."
"So what can we do about it?"
"Probably nothing. Unc says I need to make my own decisions, and maybe when he sees that I can, he might come around. But I'm not too confident. There is something I can do, and I'm going to, right now!"
"And that is?"
"I'm going out to the barn and check out the hay loft. You coming?"
"Probably before long," Kenny grinned.

It was something we had to do and we did. But let me tell you, sex in the hay is not all it's cracked up to be. That hay is downright prickly when you're naked! We finally found an old horse blanket and lay on that, but even that wasn't nearly as kind to our skin as home in bed. We discovered that our skin was a lot more tender and sensitive than we'd thought. But it was still something we had to do, and we did it.

The next two days were back to work, big time! Unc had a small field he wanted plowed, so I jumped on the John Deere, with Kenny perched on the rear axle housing, and we went off to plow it up for him. Kenny wanted to learn to drive the tractor, so I taught him. It was quite different from anything he'd ever seen before, with its hand clutch, hand throttle, individual wheel brakes and six speeds, not to mention the hydraulic controls, power take-off, and other things that were important on a tractor but non-existent on a car. He did well, though, and when we came back from the field Kenny was driving with a grin on his face you could see for miles.

As we worked plowing the field, which was only about 4 acres, my mind went back to the first time I had seen “Big John.” I think I was 12 at the time - a very small, timid, scrawny kid who had absolutely no self confidence at all. My mom had already been diagnosed with MS, and although she was still getting around under her own power, she was wobbly at best and had to rest a lot. She had been sending me to the farm as soon as school was out for the past 3 years or so because things were not going very well at home, and she just wanted me out of there. Of course I didn’t know that was the reason at the time, else I might not have been so anxious to go.

This particular summer, the year I turned 12, I took the train for the first time. That was very exciting for me. I had always loved to ride my bike down to the railway station and watch the trains come and go, wondering where all the people had been and where they were going. This would be the first time I got to ride one myself, and I loved it! Once off the train Aunt Melanie was there to meet me. She explained that Uncle Brad was tied up and couldn’t get away to meet the train, but that was ok. I loved Aunt Melanie as much as I loved Unc.

When we got to the farm there was a very large truck in the yard, and parked behind it, having just been unloaded, was a brand new, very large green tractor. “Is.. Is that ours? I said with a gasp.
“Kinda looks like it,” Aunt M said with a chuckle.
“But... a John Deere? I thought Unc was gonna buy a Farmall Super C?”
“He got a better deal on the John Deere,” Aunt M replied. “Of course you know your Uncle Will sells John Deeres, and that one is a lot bigger than a Super C, and he got it for less money.”

I have to say I wasn’t really thrilled about the new tractor. Unc and I had drooled over a Super C for two years, and in my mind that was the ultimate tractor. I felt that this was a compromise that he would regret. I think that was perhaps the only time in my entire life that I doubted his judgment; time would prove him right and me wrong, but I was almost reluctant to climb up on the big green monster the first time.

Uncle Will showed me where all the controls were, explained the best way to start it, how to work the hydraulics; then without further ceremony Unc said “Well, boy, you’re on the tractor, there’s the manure pile and there’s the spreader, and time’s a-wastin’.” So I followed Uncle Will’s directions and fired it up. When the engine caught, it’s characteristic PUTT- PUTT-PUTT was almost intoxicating. I thought that more is better: 6 cylinder engines are more powerful than 4's, 8's are more powerful than 6's. So how much power could a 2-cylinder tractor have anyway? Well, it didn’t take Big John long to prove me wrong, and in so doing created a love affair that has lasted my entire life.

In no time at all Big John and I were spreading manure, plowing, cultivating, cutting and baling hay, even digging basements for some of our neighbors who were building a new house or barn. After the first few days when everyone wanted a try, hardly anyone sat on that tractor seat but me. I have always wondered if Unc had any idea how much my self confidence improved as that tractor and I worked from sunup till sundown, took on any job with confidence that bordered on conceit. He was a simple man, he only had 7th grade education, didn’t have a sophisticated bone in his body; but like so many uneducated farmers, he had a wisdom that simply is not learned in schools. I suspect that he knew exactly what he was doing, and what that big green tractor did for me.

It was many, many years later, in fact half a century after the day that Kenny and I plowed a small field in central New Brunswick, I got a piece of my childhood back. I heard about a large tractor auction somewhere in Indiana and I knew someone who was going. He bought a 1947 John Deere model B, identical to the one that a small city kid/part time farmer loved so much. The tractor was delivered to me on Oct. 1, 2001. I have it all apart now, making sure everything is in perfect condition. When it’s back together, later this year I hope, it will have a much easier life as it pulls floats in parades, goes to tractor shows, and pulls kids around the neighborhood in a wagon.

We spent the rest of the day and all of the next maintaining machinery. I changed the oil in the tractor and greased it, cleaned the air filter, replaced the spark plugs and points, checked air in the tires, and cleaned the fuel filter. Kenny was astonished that I knew how to do all those things, and I guess it was then that I realized I was really a country boy. I had spent a maximum of three months a year on the farm, but when I was here I lived, breathed, and thought farm!

When we finished the tractor I had Kenny back it into the machinery shed, I hooked him up to the various haying machines one at a time and pulled them into the barnyard so we could work on them. We greased and adjusted, hooked up and tested, and generally did the maintenance that I knew would probably not be done if we didn't do it.

The baler was another story. It was one of the older style with its own engine, a small air cooled V-4 that sounded totally awesome when it was under load. Unc was in the habit of pouring oil down the spark plug holes for storage to prevent rust, so it was always hard to start the first time in the spring. So after the maintenance was done I cranked and cranked (you got it, no electric starter!) until my little friend snarled to life. We ran it a while, kicked it into gear and ran the baler to make sure it was ok. I broke open a few bales of hay and re- baled them. I just had to hear that engine under load. To Kenny it was just a loud noise; to me it was like a symphony! Then we shut it all down. "You're gonna have to make it this year without me, baby," I whispered.

"You love that machine, don't you?" Kenny observed.
"You have no idea," I said tearfully, "You got a problem with that?"
"Not at all. I guess I just never knew someone could be in love with a machine."

Of course it wasn't the machine itself I was in love with, it was what it represented. I'd had so many happy times here on the farm, as my world at home was coming unraveled, usually at the controls of one machine or the other. It was one of the more difficult decisions I'd ever had to make, to turn my back on that farm and move on. I think it was while I was saying good-bye to that baler that I first realized that my farming career was over. But I wasn't prepared to admit it to myself yet.

Of course the decision to leave the farm hadn’t been altogether mine; I doubt that I could’ve done it on my own. But Unc had told me in no uncertain terms that I was no longer welcome here as a worker, that I had other things to attend to. I think he knew that the day was coming, and not too far in the future, when that farm would no longer be large enough to support a family. It took me a few years to realize that he loved me enough to let me go, to actually SEND me away.

"Are you sure you have to go?" Unc questioned on Friday evening as we were packing.
"Yeah, we'd better," I said. I really didn't want to ever leave, but I had responsibilities now, and I decided I'd better attend to them.
"Well, it sure was nice having you. We haven't had that many times when you could come up and just visit. Usually we're working so hard there isn't time for visiting."
"I enjoyed it, Unc. I'm sorry but I guess my haying days are over, at least for now."
"Not a problem, kiddo. You've got more important things to attend to than this old farm, so get your tail back and get to it." I couldn't imagine anything being more important than that farm, but I knew what he meant so I hugged him and Aunt Melanie, and we were back on the bike, headed home.

One of things that I loved so much about Kenny was his constant innovation, his "full of surprises" approach to life. The night we got home from the farm was certainly no exception. We had gone to bed fairly late, having sat up with Mom just talking about all sorts of things. I loved these times with her, often imagining that it would have been similar had my own mother lived, but Mom C. had become a very good substitute for me. When we finally did go to bed, Kenny and I were both wiped, so we just assumed our usual position, arms wrapped around each other, and went to sleep.

About 4:00 AM I was awakened by a feeling of fullness. I had rolled over on my front in my sleep, or perhaps Kenny had rolled me gently as I slept, and as I came back to consciousness I realized that Kenny had somehow got my briefs down, at least in the back, and had entered me. He was now very slowly and gently sliding in and out, as if not to wake me. He was fully on top of me, but supporting his weight on his elbows and knees. I emitted a soft moan just to let him know I was awake, whereupon he nuzzled my ear and whispered "I love you!" He didn't speed up the pace, made no other sign that I was awake save whispering "I love you!" over and over. When he finally climaxed there was no fanfare, no violent lurching or bucking, only a soft grunt, I felt myself being filled, and then Kenny slid off me, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, and was asleep again in a very few minutes. I quickly picked up the habit, and those times were very special to both of us.

I was sitting at the organ on Saturday morning. Kenny and his mom had gone somewhere to attend to some family business, and although there was no requirement today, I made my way to the church and sat there, all alone, with that gorgeous instrument. I often came here like this, to play just for me. When I was depressed, which happened all too often, the music was restful, soothing. When I was elated about something, the organ was called upon to announce that elation to the whole world. But today I was at peace; I had just come from the farm which had always had an almost magic effect on me, there were no immediate situations I had to deal with, so I was just playing for my own enjoyment... the excruciating pleasure it gave me to just play, improvise, experiment with different techniques and chord combinations, and yes, marvel that I had been given the gift of music. I was thankful to so many people who had worked together to place me where I was now, both in my life and my musical development.

I had just finished a long musical work, probably Bach or something equally emotional, and was thinking of locking up the organ and leaving when I heard someone clapping. I had thought I was completely alone, but it was not unusual for someone to slip into a pew to listen while I fooled around. When I looked, it was Janet, the girl I had taken to the Prom.

"That was really cool, Charlie!" she gushed as she made her way up to the console.
"Thanks," I said sheepishly. "What're you doing here?"
"I was walking by and saw your bike, then I heard the organ so I just came in to see if it was really you playing. I loved it! Please don't stop just cause I'm here."
"I was done anyway," I answered. "I just had a little time on my hands so I thought I'd just have a quiet time. It's so peaceful here when there's no one around."
"Time on your hands?" she echoed. "With your schedule that doesn't happen very often does it?"
"Not really. But today I'm on my own."

"Well, then," she said, and I knew by the tone in her voice that she had a plan and it included me. "I got an idea. Take me for a ride on your bike? Please?"
"I don't know..." I said doubtfully.
"Come on!" she pleaded, "I've never been on one and that's a really cool looking bike. I bet it flies!"

OK, she had me. I loved my little motorcycle, and when someone paid it a compliment like that, my resistance drained to zero. So I said OK, we finished locking up and climbed on my little BSA.

We rode all over town, then out on the highway, Janet squealing her delight the whole time. She had fallen instantly in love with the little bike and couldn't get enough! Meanwhile I was sweating bullets. What if Kenny saw us? What if she grabbed my groin, as I'd heard of girls doing? What if she grabbed me and I popped a stiffy?

By the time we got to the beach I had relaxed a little. The pavilion was jammed with teenagers who, like us, had just been released from the prison they called school and were making the best of it. "You wanna dance?" I invited.
"You know the answer to that one," she cooed. "I love dancing with you!" So I found a place to park the bike where it wouldn't fall over in the sand, and we danced. Man, did we dance!

"I really like being with you, Charlie," Janet said as we walked along the beach, “You're so... so different from most boys."
"I dunno," I countered, "I certainly don't feel any different." And then I realized I'd just missed a perfect opening to tell her exactly what was different about me.

"You are, believe me," she went on. "I mean, here we are out on the beach, no one else is around, and you're the perfect gentleman. Most boys would be practically raping me by now." WOW! Another perfect opening! Now I can tell her why!
"Is that what you want?" I asked. SHIT! Chickened out again.
"No, not at all. I love it when someone likes me for me, not what they can get."
"I like you, Janet," I answered, "especially when we dance."
"Not when we kiss?" she pressed. Cool! Another chance!
"I kinda don't enjoy kissing that much." I stammered. DAMN! Another chance gone!

"Are you kidding? The way you kiss you've gotta have had lots of practice."
"Not really," I answered. Yeah, this time I'm gonna go for it! "You know when we went to the prom, that was the first real date I'd ever had."
"Get outa town! You're kidding, right?"
"No I'm not. Y'see..."
"Oh, I get it!" Her eyes brightened as the lights came on. "You're one of those shy guys! I mighta known, you so heavy into music and all. Hey, don't worry about it. I think it's cute!"

Well dammit! Now she thinks I'm cute! And I'm blushing like I was gonna catch fire!"

We talked about other things, neutral things, pleasant things. I was determined to let her know where we stood, but she seemed equally determined not to let me. Of course she wasn't blocking me consciously, but it sure seemed that way to me. We stopped at the pavilion and had a coke, then hopped on the bike and headed home. It was getting into the evening and I knew Kenny would be home by now and wondering where I'd gone.

By the time we'd got to Janet's house I was determined to tell her my secret. I liked her a lot, enjoyed spending time with her, but it just wasn't fair to either of us, and it certainly wasn't fair to Kenny. As she climbed off the bike and took off her helmet, I killed the engine and said "Janet, can we talk for a few minutes?"
"Sure, Charlie," she said cheerfully.

"Janet... I... er..." I stuttered. I was starting to chicken out when I formed a picture in my mind... a picture of little Conrad, looking me straight in the eye and telling me he was in love with me. That must've taken some pile of guts, I thought. And here I was, his glorious leader, his all-knowing been-there-done-that older friend, and I was turning to mush! Not gonna happen, Connie! If you can do it, I can do it!

"Janet," I said as I began again, "Have you ever noticed my bracelet?"
"Sure," she said, "everyone has. Yours and Kenny's. More guys should wear them, they're cool."
"But,” I insisted, "have you ever had a good look at it?"
"Sure, Charlie. It's got your name on it. I really like it!"
"Do me a favor and look at the underside."

Janet was really taken aback at my request, but she did my bidding and smiled. "That's so cute!" she exclaimed, "Is that an old girl friend?" I shook my head no. "Then who is KC?" Before I had a chance to tell her, the lights came on. "It's Kenny!" she exclaimed. "Now that's REALLY cute! You guys are really close, aren't you?"

Damn, I had never thought of Janet as thick, but she was sure acting slow on this subject. But it illustrates a point: There were truly a lot of people back then who literally had never heard of same-sex love! Until I'd experienced it, I never had! But that didn't help the dilemma at hand; I was determined to tell all before I spent any more time with Janet, and she was giving every indication that she wanted to spend time with me.

"Janet," I started again, "what I'm trying to tell you is... well, Kenny and I, we're lovers. Like, he's my boy friend and I'm his."
"Really? Is this some kind of joke?"
"It's no joke, Janet. I just wanted you to know that I like being with you, dancing, talking, but it's never gonna go any further. I'm gay, Janet!"

I couldn't believe it! I had started to cry! I was sitting on my motorcycle, just had a great afternoon with a very pretty girl, a cool biker dude, right? Except that I was crying like a baby. "I love him so much, Janet!" I went on as the tension released in a flood of words and tears. "I mean, I love being with you, having you as my friend, spending time like we did today, but I just can't do it any more with you thinking it's gonna go anywhere, 'cause it's not! I love Kenny!"
"I see," she said. I can't even describe the look on her face, but the word 'shock' comes to mind. "Well," she said, "thanks for telling me. You really are a cool guy Charlie. It's a shame, I really think I could get into being your girlfriend."

Janet said thanks for the afternoon, and then she had gone. I fired up the BSA and headed for home.

When I got home, at about 7:00 PM, I found Kenny, Robbie, Tanya and Mom sitting gloomily at the kitchen table. "Damn!" I quipped when I walked in, "did you miss me that much?"

"We gotta talk," Kenny said without expression.
"Ok," I responded, "what's the deal?"
"We've been talking for over an hour, Charlie," Mom said when I'd seated myself, "and we were just waiting for you to ratify what we've decided."
"Decided?" I asked blankly. "Decided about what?"
"Well..." Kenny said as he shifted uncomfortably..."
"I'll tell him," Robbie volunteered.

"Jeez!" I said with no small amount of panic setting in, "somebody please tell me! You're scaring me!" In my mind I could picture my father suing Mom Collins for kidnapping me, Kenny having found a new love, the Collins family having decided I could no longer live with them, all sorts of things.

"The truth is," Robbie went on, "Tanya is pregnant. We're gonna have a baby, Charlie!"
"That's all?" I said with relief. "Man that's great! WOW! A baby! That is too cool!"
"That's not all, Charlie," Mom said as she took my hand. "Tanya's been very sick, and the doctor says she will probably get sicker before the baby comes. The doctor has ordered her to quit working."
"I agree with the doc," I said flatly. "You should be home taking care of yourself, Tanya."
"It's not that simple," Mom countered. "If Tanya can't work, then Robbie can't finish school. They don't have enough money and neither do I, except..."

"My college fund," Kenny added. "I've got that money, though it isn't as much as we'd thought, but Robbie needs it right now so he can finish school. He's only got a year to go and I can't see him quit now. I told him he could have it, but Mom said no, that it's yours as much as mine, and you had to agree."

"Mom," I said, "when did that money get to be half mine?"
"When Kenny gave up UNB so you could go wherever you go together. We don't break promises in this family. We stick together and we stand by each other. And that's why we can't, won't, touch that money without your agreement."
"But this is different!" I argued. "This is family! Robbie's got a problem and you all can help him! Surely you wouldn't let him do without just because I..."

"You're my little brother," Robbie interrupted, "and it's my job to take care of YOU, not the other way around. I will not take anything that's marked as yours, unless you offer it, and in this case even then I feel guilty about it."
"Not a problem," Kenny offered. "We've got a whole year to earn our tuition, and you've gotta take that money!"

I was totally floored! The Collins family had a problem and there was right before them a ready solution. But they wouldn't use it unless I agreed! Me! The one who had taken their son and brother away from them into the devious world of homosexuality! How could they do that to Robbie? On the other hand, Robbie seemed as committed as the others to honor the commitment even though I hadn't taken it that seriously anyway. I had never seen anything like it! I didn't know what to say, but then there was only one thing I could say, wasn't there?

I must say I was rewarded liberally that night for giving up something that I hadn't considered mine in the first place. "You are so cool!" Kenny exclaimed as he slipped out of his boxers and into bed beside me. "What you did for Robbie..."
"I didn't do shit for Robbie!" I argued. "That was never my money. And besides, even if it had been my money Robbie is my big brother! Why shouldn't I help him any way I can? And also, I don't care what it is, if it's gonna get me an extra lay or some unexpected goodies from my gorgeous lil brother, YOU, Kenny my love, then I've kinda got to do it, haven't I?”

Talk about pushing the envelope of credibility! I will not describe the next two hours, because there is no way that anyone would believe it. Suffice to say that when Kenny and I finally went to sleep, cuddled together so closely we couldn't slip a cigarette paper between us, we were both more than ready for sleep.

I awoke about 6:00 AM and Kenny was gone. I saw him sitting at his desk, still naked, staring into space. "Morning, gorgeous!" I said with a smile - a smile of total contentment as I looked at my beautiful lover. He didn't answer, but just looked at me with a far away look.

"What're we gonna do, Charlie?" he asked. "The money's all gone now!"
"In a way," I answered, "I'm sorta glad. Now I won't be constantly having to fight to keep you from giving it all to me. Now we're equal."
"You were never gonna take any of that money were you?"
"Why would I? That money was yours!" I pointed out, "and there was never enough for both of us."

"But we don't have any at all! How can we possibly go..."
"We haven't been accepted anywhere yet," I reminded him, "and we've got a whole year to save our first year's tuition, so I think we're gonna be fine. We'll have to work our way through, but that was my plan anyway. I love you, Kenny, and we'll do it together. Like the sign I read somewhere. It said 'THE ONLY THING STANDING BETWEEN MAN AND HIS DREAM IS THE FAITH THAT HE CAN ACHIEVE IT, AND THE COURAGE TO TRY.' You bet we're going, and we're gonna graduate with honors too!"

"I love you, Charlie!" he said as he burst into tears and melted into me again.
"Then trust me!" I ordered. "We're gonna be fine!" To this day I don’t know where I got that burst of courage and self confidence, but I’m glad I did. It was so unlike me; but then for the past two years everyone in my life had been hammering into my head that I could do anything I wanted, as long as I wanted it bad enough. I guess maybe it was finally starting to sink in.

The rest of the summer went by pretty quickly for Kenny and me. I had my 17th birthday, which was marked pretty plainly with a simple cake and gifts at the Collins'. To me it was as wonderful, maybe even more so, than a full blown party. Once more I sort of looked for a gift, card, anything from my father, but nothing was forthcoming.

Kenny got a job at the hospital for the summer and into the school year if he wanted it, while I ended up working at the motorcycle shop. I did odd mechanical work, but soon got completely involved in un-crating and assembling new bikes as they arrived from England. At that time Japan had not emerged as a major force in the motorcycle market.

I saw Jack from time to time at the shop. We were both trying awkwardly to be friends, but he usually ended up trying to induce me to go to the camp with him, but I always managed to find some excuse. I had started to resent him because of all the times we'd fooled around, all the things he'd tried to do, he never once mentioned any part of it except when the acts were actually going on. Being used to Kenny's up front nature, I felt that he could at least have mentioned his real motives, or ask me what I thought, or something.

Toward the end of July it was carnival time again. This was to be our big blow-out for the summer, having avoided anything that cost money up to now. Kenny and I had decided to invite Conrad, and he readily accepted when I called to invite him. We had no motives other than to try to be friends to him, and I was pretty certain that unless he'd changed a lot in the past month, he wouldn't come on to either of us.

The first thing I noticed was Connie's voice. The ravages of puberty, it seemed, had hit him all at once! His voice had deepened to the point it sounded rather odd on a boy as small as he was. "I'm gonna have to find a place for you in the bass section," I remarked as he climbed in the back seat of the Collins car.
"Don't bother," he answered. "I think my singing days are over. I try and sing but my voice sounds awful!"
"I bet it'll be fine by September," I promised. "You just have to give it time."

Kenny and I had prearranged for Connie and me to go on one of the rides together so I could talk to him. It turned out to be the Ferris Wheel, a ride I was never crazy about; but Connie loved it, so off we went while Kenny headed for the burger stand. "You doing ok?" I asked as soon as we were alone.
"Fine," he said rather blankly. "It's been a good summer."
"How about what we talked about? You feeling any better about yourself?"
"It's still there, if that's what you mean. But I'm dealing with it."

I got the message loud and clear that he just did not want to talk about it, so I made some weak comments about how we just wanted to be his friend, and the subject was dropped. I have often thought that I'd handled it rather badly, considering that the poor boy was attracted to me. I probably should have done some sort of maneuvering to get Kenny alone with him, but then how would I explain the fact that Kenny knew about it? I guess we were still new at handling such a taboo subject, and actually I'm not at all sure it's any better today. But for whatever reason, I am still haunted by the memory of Conrad and what I didn’t, couldn’t, do for him.

"I had a real great time," Connie beamed when we dropped him at his house. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Thanks for coming," I answered. "I gotta butter you up good so you'll be sure to be my new star in the bass section in the fall." Connie paused and looked back at me, opened his mouth as if to say something, paused again, then abruptly ran across the lawn and into the house, calling "Bye, thanks again!" over his shoulder.

"What was that all about?" Kenny wondered.
"I dunno," I answered, "but I think he's a lot more bothered by what he is than he's letting on. I gotta make sure to call him once in a while." In my mind I had the perfect reason for calling him: as his choir director I was protecting my interests and those of the choir. But that was just not to be, because a week later George called to tell me that Mrs. Atkins was coming back, and my services as choir director would no longer be needed. I tried desperately to think of a way to tell him, or Mrs. Atkins, or somebody, about Connie; but of course there was no way without telling them things that only Connie had the right to tell. So I just told them that he was concerned about his voice changing and might need some prodding to come back to choir in the fall.

Before we were really ready for the summer to be over it was Labor Day weekend. Kenny and I had been planning to go to the beach, had arranged to use the car, and were planning on taking girls. I had asked Janet at least two weeks ago and she'd said yes, while Kenny had met a girl named Susan, who he said was an incredible dancer.

We were just leaving the house on Saturday morning when the phone rang. Mom answered it and handed the receiver to me. "Hi, Charlie," the voice I recognized as Janet's came over the phone, "are you guys still going to the beach today?"
"Yeah," I answered. "We were just leaving to pick you up."
"Oh," she said, then paused. "Ummm... that's why I called, Charlie. I can't go. Something's -- well something's come up."
"You sure?" I questioned. "It's gonna be a total blast."
"Sorry, Charlie, I just can't."
"I'm sorry too, Janet. Maybe next time, ok?"

I somehow knew that I'd never go out with Janet again, and I turned out to be right. I knew under the circumstances that I could hardly blame her, but still it hurt. "You have to face it," Mom said. "That's what your life is going to be like. You can't change what you are, but you'll face discrimination just when you think you're in a safe zone." I knew that Mom wasn't trying to talk me out of anything, only trying to prepare me for the inevitable. But it sank me into a deep depression anyway. I went to the beach anyway, but I just walked up and down the water's edge while Kenny and Susan danced.

"Come on, Charlie!" Susan called as I came close to the pavilion, "I'd like to dance with you. Please?"
"But you're with Kenny," I protested.
"What difference does that make? We came here to have fun didn't we? And I already know I've got no future with you two, so let's just have a good time, ok?"

I did go and dance with Susan, along with about three other girls, but there was no magic; no spark. Suddenly I wanted to dance with Kenny! And why the hell not! But we didn't. When it came right down to it I simply didn't have nearly the courage I'd thought I had, especially after losing the friendship of one girl I was sure would understand.

"You weren't much fun today," Kenny accused after we'd dropped Susan off.
"Yeah I guess so," I agreed. "I was kinda bummed out over Janet."
"Why? Are you starting to wish you could go out with her?"
"Not starting, Kenny. I've always wished I could be more normal. But I'm not; I love you, and that's not gonna change. I only wish... oh never mind, you know what I'm gonna say."

"Yes I do," Kenny agreed. "And every time that happens you end up down in the dumps for a week or two. Is that where we're headed again?"
"I dunno, Kenny," I answered. “Maybe I should just get myself castrated so it won’t be a problem any more.” And then I saw him looking at me. Those liquid eyes again! They said so much more than he could ever verbalize. "NO, dammit!" I suddenly exclaimed. "Hell no! Not this time! I am what I am and if Janet or anybody else doesn't like it, then they'll just have to deal with it any way they can. Come on, dude, let's go home!"

The school year started again, much more differently that we'd expected. Kenny was not eligible for the swim team because, although he was within the age group, he wasn't considered a 'regular' student, so once again he had to satisfy himself with swimming just for enjoyment. Connie didn't show up for practice when the youth choir met, which didn't surprise me in the least. I tried to call several times, but he was always 'out.' Then I asked Kenny to start calling, reasoning that he could simply state that he was helping out with the choir without revealing that he knew Connie's problem. But Connie was either a very busy young man, or he wasn't receiving calls.

We discovered that most of the other Grade 13 students were quite aware that we were together, and although our social lives weren't all that we'd hoped, we didn't suffer any particular difficulty over it. Our best friends, Ron and Timmy, were off to UNB, so we more or less went about our business, filling our spare time working at whatever job we could find. I found my job at the motorcycle shop quite enjoyable, and it had the added benefit that I had lots of contacts when it came time to sell my bike. I hated to see it go, but it was impractical and the money it would bring would sure come in handy for my college fund. I ended up getting a good price for it, but it still left me feeling empty. Gay or straight, rich or poor, there is little that is more devastating to a teenager than losing his wheels, and mine were gone!

The school year, from an academic standpoint, can be described in only one word: BOOOOORRRRRINGGG! It was supposed to be college level, and in fact we were getting college credits for our courses, but we found we were learning almost nothing. But there was good news too. We didn't have to study hardly anything to maintain A grades. So we worked more hours piling up our money, or so it seemed to us.

We were invited to a party in mid-October. Most of the party-goers were kids we'd gone through high school with, but in spite of that we hardly knew them. "We've got to go," Kenny asserted when I expressed some doubt.
"Kenny," I said, "they know about us, and they've never had anything to do with us, and now they're inviting us to a party. I think I smell a rat."
"Shit, Charlie," Kenny laughed, "I'm way ahead of you! Of course I smell a rat too! They're gonna try and humiliate us, but the joke's gonna be on them. I'm gonna have some fun! So let's go, ok? Puhlleeeeeeze?" And then he pulled out all the stops, broke out the heavy artillery: his eyes. Those pleading, sparkling, gorgeous look-into-the-soul eyes that rendered me totally helpless. Man, I hated when he did that! But I agreed to go.

The first thing we noticed when we walked into the party was that everyone, I mean everyone, was paired off, male to female! There were boys and girls everywhere! Some we knew, had gone to school with, and others we'd never seen before. The next thing we saw was that there were no "good girls" or "good boys" there. Everyone, at least of those that we knew, had something of a reputation for being what is now called 'sexually active.' I wanted to leave then and there, but Kenny would have none of it. "Follow my lead," he directed, "and trust me."

First, the beer was handed out. "No thanks," Kenny said when he was offered, "Charlie and I don't drink."
Why'd you say that? I said under my breath. I wanted a beer more than I'd ever wanted anything. The music was put on, and couples started dancing. To my utter astonishment, and most of the others there, Kenny grabbed my hand and dragged me onto the floor, and we started dancing. We didn't hold back, we let it all out and in no time I was having a blast just like Kenny was. When a slow number started, Kenny just wrapped his arms around me and continued dancing, grinding his hips into mine. At first I was mortified! But then I began to notice that no one was laughing, in fact everyone was watching, a look that's hard to describe on their faces.

"Okay," our host Rodney said, "time for some REAL fun!" The music was turned down and everyone gathered around Rodney and a few of his friends as he broke out a deck of cards and started shuffling. I knew this was it! I had no idea what was happening, but I knew this moment was the reason we were here.

The deck was split into two halves: red in one pile and black in the other. Each person was required to pick a card, black for the guys and red for the girls. Another deck was produced and shuffled. Rodney began drawing cards one at a time. If someone held a matching card, he or she went to the center of the circle we'd formed. The deck was shuffled and cut, then the chosen one drew a card. The holder of its match, if any, was required to go upstairs for fifteen minutes with the person who'd drawn the card, after which they were to come back and report to the others what happened. Same-sex matches were declared invalid and the whole process started again. I didn't know how, but I knew Kenny and I were being set up somehow.

The first round was played, and a drunken guy we didn't know ended up climbing the stairs with a cute blonde from our school. Second round, and another boy and girl climbed the stairs. Third round, and a very attractive redhead was in the center. As if on cue, she picked the three of spades: Kenny's card!

I looked to Kenny for some sign, questioning with my eyes. He returned the look with a wide grin, that "trust me" look, and then they were gone. Three more girls and guys were paired off. I was beginning to wonder how many rooms they had upstairs. But I didn't have long to think about it because suddenly I heard "Ace of Clubs!" My card! There was still no sign of the others returning, so I very nervously got up and stood by Michelle, a fairly plain but not unattractive blonde. "This is gonna be so great!" she whispered to me as we headed up the stairs.

We walked up the stairs and down the hall, turning into a bedroom that was completely dark. I listened for sounds of the others who'd preceded us, but all was deathly quiet. "First," Michelle said as she produced a bottle of vodka, "you need a drink."
"No thanks," I said shakily, "I don't drink." I did indeed need a drink, and desperately; but I also knew what just a few drinks of vodka would do to me, and I HAD to keep my wits about me.

"I don't think you understand," a male voice from behind me said. "The lady said you NEED a drink!" Before I had a chance to react, two guys from the party were holding me by the arms, with two more ready to take my feet. Michelle had disappeared as the light came on. Guy number three grabbed my hair and pulled my head back while guy number four began pouring the vodka down my throat. "Just a little something to relax you," he said, "cause you're in for a very nice evening."

I felt my legs being lifted off the floor and I was laid face up on a bed. While three of them continued to hold me down, the vodka kept filling my mouth, forcing me to swallow. I still didn't feel the inevitable buzz, but my throat was a fiery inferno from the strong liquid.

It wasn't long before my head began to swim and my eyes went out of focus. "Now, my little queer friend," said one of the guys I didn't know, "you get to have all the fun, and you get the best first: ME!" With that he undid his zipper and I was staring into the end of a large semi-hard penis. "Suck it," he ordered as he slapped my face with it, "I know you want it."
"No thanks," I managed and clamped my mouth shut.

"I don't remember offering you a choice," he said as more vodka was poured in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, getting a lot of it running down the front of my shirt, but some of it still went down my throat. "Suck it now!" he ordered. "You've got 12 more to go after mine and we haven't got all night."

When I refused again a fist went crashing into my balls, causing me to suck in a breath along with half a mouthful of vodka. I choked and coughed a bit, and then I threw up all over myself. I was getting too drunk to lift my head, so the vomit just flowed out of my mouth. A towel came from somewhere and my mouth was wiped, and then there were two penises slapping at my face. I heard a voice saying "Come on, guys, he's had enough." Everything was a blur now, and even though I wasn't being held any more I didn't move.

"What have you done with Kenny?" I demanded. Looking back I doubt that they even knew what I had said because I could hardly form the words. But they heard his name, and someone informed me that he was in the next room eating cock like a good little faggot, and I should do the same. "That is, unless you want us to cut his dick off," another said, then they were all laughing. "That would be too bad for you," someone else said, "then you'd starve to death."

They sat me up on the edge of the bed, and my head began to really spin. I felt the head of a penis press through my lips and hit my teeth. To this day I don't know why I didn't bite down on it, but I was so repulsed all I did was throw up again. "You fuckin' little queer!" its owner raged, "You puked all over my dick!"

A fist, or foot, or something went hard into my kidney, then another into my stomach, causing me to throw up again, and then I passed out.

I don't know how long it had been, but when I awoke and lifted my head, I banged it on the steering wheel of the Collins car. The pain was indescribable! When I got my bearings I realized that the car had been moved, and I didn't have the vaguest idea where I was. I checked the back seat, and Kenny was there, still passed out. A bolt of fear went through me, thinking that he might be dead. We were both a sorry sight, with vomit all over our front, and something else. As my memory of the party started coming back, I realized that some of those guys, perhaps all of them, had ejaculated all over us: our heads, our clothes, our faces. I wondered what else they'd done while we were unconscious.

Fortunately for us, the idea of raping a male was relatively unheard of. Fag-bashing was a favorite sport then as it is now in some circles, but the sexual content was usually confined to receiving a blow job from the victim. It was almost as if the gay person's body, especially his genitals, were 'unclean,' and usually left alone. So it was with us. Our clothes had been untouched, except of course for the mess we'd made of them. Further checking revealed that I had wet my pants at some point, so I was truly a mess, and Kenny was no better.

"Ohhh, geeesh!" Kenny moaned as he started to come to life. "Have I got a headache or what!" And then as he realized the state he was in, he exclaimed "Oh, my God!" And then he started looking around to get his bearings.

"Where are we?" he asked when he'd got control of himself again.
"I have no idea," I answered. "Somewhere in the country."
"What time is it?"
"Uhhh..." I strained to see my watch, "It's 3:45."
"Holy fuck!" Kenny exclaimed, "Mom's gonna kill us!"
"We're gonna have to get used to it," I observed, "cause we're gonna be here a while. That is unless you're a lot more sober than I am. I can't even see, let alone drive!" So, not knowing what else to do, we just went back to sleep.

It was after 11 before we finally drove into the Collins driveway. Before we'd got out of the car Mom C. was coming out the back door. "Where in the world..." she said, "Oh my gosh! What on earth happened? Where have you boys been? You're a mess!"
"I gotta get cleaned up," I said, ignoring her questions, "I'm gonna be late for church!"
"Forget it," Mom said. "I've called long ago and told them you wouldn't be there today. Your only duty right now is to do some explaining, and you've got a lot of that to do." Then we made our next mistake: we tried to walk. "Oh my gosh!" Mom exclaimed. "You're both drunk!"

"What on earth were you thinking?" I demanded as Kenny and I peeled our clothes and prepared for a shower. We had explained to Mom what had happened, leaving out a few details of course, and she had excused us, promising that we'd talk later after we were sober and a little more lucid.
"I'm so sorry, Charlie," Kenny said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I was only... I thought..."
"You thought?" I accused. "I don't think you thought at all. Trust me, you said! It'll be a blast, you said! You had it all figured out, didn't you? The cool Kenny Collins has all the answers. Kenny's got it all figured out. Now look at us! For all I know we mighta swallowed half the sperm in town last night! Jeeez, Kenny!"
"Charlie, would you please listen?"
"Listen to what? You telling me once more how you've got it all figured? How I should trust you?"

When I look back now, I can see my father loud and clear in the way I handled my situation. I had been violated, my rights as a human being compromised, and I was lashing out at the one I cared for the most! I was furious, and with good reason I think; but my fury was dumped on the nearest, easiest target: My beloved Kenny.

"Charlie," Kenny said weakly, "I was only trying to help."
"Help!" I bellowed, "Some fuckin' help!"
"Charlie, please listen! Please?"
"Yeah, sure!" I raved, "Go ahead, I've gotta hear this!"

"I gotta tell you," he began, "I had some idea what that party was about. That bunch has quite a reputation for wild sex parties. And you're always talking about how you wished you could be normal, I mean in the eyes of others. I just thought that if you had an experience with some girl, you might feel more accepted. I thought that if we could go to a party, I mean as a couple, and be accepted as we were, you might not be so unhappy. It kills me to see you unhappy, Charlie! Sometimes I think you'd be so much better off if we'd never... uh... never..."

He didn't finish. He didn't have to! I knew what he meant."Am I really that bad?" I said, my temper completely deflated. "Do I really complain that much about us and the world we're in?"
Kenny didn't answer, but he nodded his head.
"But what if I took that girl to bed and liked it? What if I decided I wasn't gay any more? Did you think of that?"
"Of course I did, Charlie! All I want in the whole world," he sobbed, "is for you to be happy. And if that means losing you, I'd gladly do it. I'd do anything to make you happy, Charlie! I love you so much!"

WOW! Anyone out there who wants a definition of true love, I have one for you. I was still so drunk I could hardly stand, but I heard Kenny's little speech loud and clear. I wondered if I could truthfully say what he'd just said, and I wasn't at all sure. He was so good for me! He did everything for me, no holds barred! And when his efforts didn't work out the way he'd planned, he was full of apologies. And what did I do? I accused, ranted and raved, bellowed like a wounded ox!

"Okay," Mom said, "I want to hear the whole story. What on earth happened and what were you doing there in the first place?" It was Sunday evening and Kenny and I were sober at last, having slept the entire day. Now we were being called upon to go over all the details. We were still in no shape to do much of anything with the headaches we had, but Mom wasn't about to wait any longer.

"It's just like I told you, Mom," Kenny answered. "They were just having some fun with us."
"Doesn't seem much like fun to me," she observed. "But what I don't understand is why you didn't just leave when it started getting rough."
"We couldn't," I piped up. "They wouldn't let us."
"Do you know who they were?"
"Some of them," I offered.
"Well then I'm calling the police!"

"Please don't, Mom!" Kenny begged. "They didn't really hurt us, and we still have to live in the same town with them. We'll just know better next time."
"But they held you against your will! And poured liquor down your throats! That's illegal! And driving drunk, you both coulda been killed!"
"Please, Mom! If you call the cops it'll be worse next time."
"Not to mention," I added, "what'll happen when my father gets wind of it. And if you call the police he's sure to hear about it."
"But he's no longer on the force," Mom reminded me.
"He still has lots of friends there, and one of them is sure to tell him."

We didn't call the police. Kids getting other kids drunk wasn't all that uncommon, and Mom had to agree that any permanent damage that had been done was not physical, so we let the matter drop.

To be continued...