I tried to remember a time when Kyle Goodson was not my friend, and I couldn't do it. Everything I saw in my past life included Kyle. I was in love with him for a long time, but I thought there was no way he was gay. Hell, I didn't even know that's what I was. I never said anything to him about how I felt, though, because at eleven and twelve, I didn't really know it was love. Then we went through a time when we didn't really do that much together. We never had a fight or a falling out, or anything like that. We just got interested in different things, I guess. We made different friends, too. I still thought about Kyle all the time, but I thought about other people, too. Like Ryan. Kyle and I had known Ryan all our lives. Our parents all knew each other, and we'd see each other at family parties and picnics and such. Ryan went to a different elementary school than Kyle and I did, so we didn't see him every day. We all went to the same middle school, though, and that's when the three of us really hooked up as friends. Ryan had been a Cub Scout since he was eight years old. Kyle and I had been Cubs that long, too, but we were in a different Pack than Ryan. In middle school, Ryan joined our Boy Scout troop, though, and that's when we all got to be really good friends. Kyle lived on a lagoon or a bayou or whatever the hell it was, and his family had a boat. We had a boat, too, but we didn't live on the water. I mean we did, but it was across the street, and you couldn't keep a boat there. Our boat was at a marina, and it was a lot of trouble to get it out on the bay, which was really where you wanted to be to ski. The bay or Kyle's lagoon. Ryan's family had a boat, too, but it was really too big to pull skiers. Too slow. It was more like a yacht or something. That meant Kyle was the ski captain. We spent the summers after sixth, seventh, and eighth grades on Kyle's boat. Or skiing behind it. That was about all we did, too. That, and surf and skateboard. The next summer Mr. Gene put Kyle's ass to work, but we still skied on the weekends. The summer after ninth grade was when I figured out I was gay. I knew I was different from Kyle and Ryan, but I didn't know what that really was. I fooled around on the Internet a lot that summer, and that's when I found out about myself. I was gay. I remember being scared to death when I finally admitted that to myself. I thought I was doomed to a life of isolation and ridicule. Ryan actually came out to me before I came out to him. He was spending the night at my house one night that summer, and that's when he told me. I started crying. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "I'm not going to do anything to you." "I know. I'm crying because I am, too," I said. "You are what? Are you gay, too?" "Yes, I think so," I said, between my tears. He hugged me, and I instantly got hard. He felt it, and I was embarrassed beyond words. "It's okay, Philip. I'm hard, too," he said. "I know. I can feel it," I said. "Do you like me?" he asked. "I love you, Ryan. I've loved you and Kyle for a long time," I said. "I know. Me, too," he said. "Kyle's not gay, though." "I know, but I'm so glad you are," I said. From there it progressed, and Ryan and I got more and more physical with each other over the next few weeks and months. We decided to become boyfriends, although we really didn't know what that meant. We loved each other, though, but we kept quiet about it, even from Kyle. Ryan, Kyle, and I were all Eagle Scouts. Tim was a new friend of Kyle's, and new to our troop, too, and he was doing his Eagle Project in February or March when Kyle, Ryan, and I were sophomores. Tim was a freshman. Kyle got us to help. That was the day I told Kyle that Ryan and I were boyfriends, and he told me he and Tim were boyfriends, too. That changed everything, and it changed nothing, at the same time. Maybe I loved Kyle in a different way then, more like a brother than I did before, but I still loved him. And he still loved me. "Kyle, what do you think about us being gay?" I asked him one time. "I don't think anything about it. It's just the way we are, Philip. We can't do anything about it. It's not something you can take back, you know? It's just us, man," he said. "I know, but don't you think things might have been different between us, if we had known," I said. He put a hand on each of my shoulders, and he looked at me intensely. "I've loved you since I was four years old, Philip. I've always loved you, and I always will. It's just different now, you know? You've got Ryan, and I've got Tim. That's not going to change anything between us, Philip. The four of us are going to be tight the rest of our damn lives, man. We're going to be best friends forever," he said. "I know. I hope so, anyway. We'll all be gay together," I said. That Memorial Day after we graduated was the day we were all going to be gay together. We were going to Pensacola for a big gay celebration, and I was excited about it. Kyle and Tim had traveled to places where there were gay neighborhoods and big gay clubs, but Ryan and I hadn't yet done that. We both had the money to travel, but we both had parents who didn't want us doing that. There were a few places in Emerald Beach that were specifically gay, but not that many. I wanted to be out and proud among my gay brothers. Ryan and I spent the night at Kevin and Rick's house. We had done that a million times or more, but we wanted to be there so we could get an early start the next day. Kevin's family was there, and they had been there for several days. We had a real nice dinner Sunday night, and they left with Kyle's parents to go to Destin, where they were staying. They took Ron with them, and Kyle, Tim and them were very sad about him leaving. There were a lot of tears when those people left. We played around in the pool after they left. "So what is this thing going to be tomorrow?" Rick asked. "I don't know. I've read it's supposed to have a hundred thousand gay people there," I said. "Why do you want to go? Are you looking to hook up?" Rick asked. I knew he was teasing me. "If he does, I'll cut his damn balls off," Ryan said. "There won't be nothing to hook up to, when I finish with him." "Such tender endearments. That's what I love about you Beach Rats. You're always so sweet to each other," Rick said. That made everybody laugh. "He knows I'll do the same damn thing to him, if he tries to hook up with somebody," I said. "You guys are in this for life, aren't you?" Rick asked. "Yes, sir," Ryan and I said at the same time, without hesitation. "I just noticed. Your tattoos are identical, except for the name under them," Chuck said. "It's like you've marked each other." Ryan and I grinned big because that was exactly what those tattoos were supposed to mean. That was our outward sign of commitment to each other. I didn't really see us ever wearing rings or anything like that, but we wore those tattoos proudly, as a sign of our love. The next morning, they cooked a big breakfast, and we were on the road by 7:30. We were all in Kyle's new Land Cruiser, and he was at the wheel. The traffic wasn't too bad that morning, and we were making decent time. It was only about a hundred miles to Pensacola, but I had known it to take three hours or more because of the traffic. "Is it okay to smoke, Kyle?" Kevin asked. God, I was glad he asked that because I wanted one so bad, and I knew Ryan did, too. I really didn't think Kyle gave a shit, but it was a brand new car. "No, I don't think it is, Kevin. I think it's bad for you. It causes heart trouble, and then you have to go to some quack heart surgeon for him to cut you open and let all that smoke out," Kyle said. We all knew Kevin's daddy was a heart surgeon, and that made us laugh. "I'll take my chances," Kevin said, and he lit up. Ryan, Jus, and I lit up, too. "Are y'all stinking up my brand new car?" Kyle asked. He was using what my daddy called the "Emerald Beach Grumble," a way of talking we had learned from our daddies and other men and boys, and we had used it all our lives. That was the way guys talked to each other when they were teasing and having fun with their friends. It was kind of gruff. "Yeah. Are you going to make something of it?" Ryan asked. "I will if you don't give me one," Kyle said. We laughed, but he shook it off when Justin offered him a smoke. He had just said that for the laugh. We didn't really know where we were going. Pensacola Beach is a pretty damn big place, and there were a lot of people out there. Then we saw a big rainbow flag, so we figured that was it. We found a place to park on one of the roads leading down to the water, and there were tags from all over the damn place. In fact, the Florida tags were the rare ones. There were tents and little trailer things set up all over the place. Those were the booths and concessions. There were hundreds of people on the beach, and it seemed like they were all guys. Most of them were wearing Speedos or some kind of bathing suit, but we passed three or four groups that were all dressed in leather. They had on leather vests and jeans and leather chaps. Boots, of course. Leather caps, too. "That bunch is going to boil their balls by the end of the day," Kyle said. "I don't know how they're not already so hot they can't stand it. I'm hot, and all I've got on is shorts and a tee shirt." "I think they're making a statement, Kyle," Kevin said. "What's the statement? 'I'm sweat-gland free?'" We all laughed. "I know what you're saying, Kevin. That's the leather boys, right?" Kyle said. "We saw that at that bar in New Orleans. The one where we thought they were going to eat us up." The next bunch to catch our eye was two young guys in leather jock straps. Both jock straps had snaps at the top of the pouch, and one guy's pouch was partly unsnapped and his dick was hard. Both the boys had collars around their necks, and an older guy was "walking" them on leashes. Their hands were tied behind their backs. The older guy was just a-grinning, and he was hard, too. He had on jeans, so his was covered up. After they had passed us a good ways, we turned to one another and started laughing. That was exactly the kind of stuff I had wanted to see, and now I was seeing it. "You guys are getting an education this morning," Rick said. "I know. What was that all about?" I asked. "Philip, those two boys and that man needed, or at least wanted, just what they were doing. I don't claim to understand it, but if we want straight people to accept us and take us seriously, we've got to be willing to accept and take seriously guys like that. They were obviously into some kind of domination thing, and those boys were enjoying it. You saw how aroused that one boy was, and that man, too," Kevin said. "And guys, don't think that's just a gay thing. Straight people like that kind of scene, too. Some of them." I tried to imagine my mama leading my daddy on a leash like that, or vice versa, and the image just wouldn't come. There was one group of about eight guys who had on ragged cutoff blue jeans but no shirts. Every one of them was covered with thick body hair, and it looked like they could make two more of them if they each lost the weight they needed to lose. "Did you guys notice that group of bears back there?" Kevin asked. "Bears? You mean those big fat guys?" I asked. "Yeah. Fat and hairy," Kevin said. "What make 'em bears?" Kyle asked. "Their size and their hairiness," Kev said. We had taken off our tee shirts by then because it was pretty hot. "You got the hairiness for it, Stud," Justin said to Kyle. Jus reached to grab a handful of the hair on Kyle's chest, but Kyle dodged him. I had noticed last summer that one day he had a good crop of it growing, and the next day it was gone. I figured he shaved it. "Are you going to shave your chest this summer, Kyle?" Rick asked. "I don't know," Kyle responded. "He likes it." "Little Timmy likes that soft, cuddly feel of his big ole bear, don't you, Timmy?" Justin said, teasing Tim. "I hate to tell you this, Justin, but have you looked at your own boyfriend lately?" Tim asked. I had already noticed that ole Brian had grown him quite a bit of hair on his chest, too. I had some, too, but mine was real light. "I know. I'm just teasing you, Tim. I know he's done furred up on me, and he's the one with the teddy bear tattoo, if you remember," Jus said. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean." We all laughed. Kyle and Brian were the two hairiest ones of us, but they were nowhere close to being the kind of bears those other guys were. I figured it was that dark hair and darker complexions they both had that did it. We found a place to set up "camp" on the beach, further down from the festival, or whatever you might call it. We had a couple of coolers with beer, soft drinks, water, and food, and we had several bags of non-perishable stuff, too. Things like chips, nuts, pickles, olives, pickled okra. You name it. The first thing Kyle did was set up a little buffet of snacks on the tops of those two coolers. That boy loved to entertain, and he was good at it, too. I had noticed that the farther we got away from the festival area, the more skin we saw. There were naked guys everywhere. A lot of it was just milling around, seeing and being seen. There were some people in the Gulf, but most of the people were right there on the beach. Kyle and Tim both took off their shorts, and they had Speedos under them. Ryan and I hadn't thought of that, and we had just worn underwear. I was totally in love with Ryan, and totally satisfied with him sexually and every other way, but, you know, you just can't look at guys like Kyle and Tim without feeling some kind of reaction. Then Justin and Brian did the same thing, and, Oh, my God! I had seen all four of them stark naked a million times without even giving them a second look, but that day every drop of blood in my body was headed right to my dick. I didn't know what that was all about, either. "Are you going to stay dressed up the whole time?" Kyle asked me. "This is a little bit much for me, Kyle. I need to settle down, get calm, and get used to it all, you know?" I said. He grinned at me, and I knew what that was all about. He knew me too damn good. "Don't say anything, you hear me?" I said, using the Grumble. "I'll kick your ass, Kyle. I swear to God I will." "You don't want me to say anything about that wet spot on your shorts? Is that what you mean?" he said. "Goddamn it, Kyle," I said. He started laughing, and he dropped down onto the sand next to me. "Gimme a smoke," he said. "When are you going to start buying 'em? You can, you know? You're eighteen," I said. "Shut up, Philip, and gimme a smoke," he said. * * * We had a great day. Eventually, all the boys got naked and walked around. We even went back to the festival area naked, and probably fifty percent of the guys there were just like us. We saw some sights there, too. I saw several guys who had these big stainless steel rings through their dicks. It looked like the ring went into the bottom and came our the piss slit. I didn't know what that was all about, and I didn't ask any of them about 'em. I wished I could get me a closer look, though. About half the guys had tattoos or some kind of body piercing, or both, and that was cool. I had seen a whole array of different dicks at Kevin and Rick's house, of course, but all the guys were young. That day I saw dicks of every size and shape and color, and of every age, too. It was amazing to me. They were all dicks, no question about that, but they were so different. It was like every guy had his own signature dick. I saw some that were so big I didn't think they could ever get hard and stand up against gravity. I saw some little ones, too, that were just like mushroom caps hiding in a forest of pubic hair. Around mid-afternoon, we went back to our camp. I laid down on a big beach towel to catch forty winks. I was tired from getting up early and from all that sun. The next thing I knew, two guys were standing over me, kicking sand onto my crotch. I looked to my right and my left, and nobody was around me. None of my boys, I mean. The two guys standing over me were big bruisers. They had on Levis and leather chaps, leather caps, and black boots. No shirts, though. They both had real thick moustaches. "Get up, faggot. You're coming with us," one guy said. "I'm not going anywhere with you," I said. "Oh, yes, you are, boy. Get up," the one guy said. "Leave me alone, man," I said. "No way. Your ass is mine tonight," he said. "Mine, too," the other guy said. I was scared to death. I didn't know who those guys were or what they wanted, but I knew I didn't want any part of it. Where are my boys, I thought. The one guy reached over and grabbed me by my pubic hair. That hurt like hell. "Get up," he said. "RYAN!!!!! KEVIN!!!!! RICK!!!!! KYLE!!!!! JUSTIN!!!!!" I screamed. In a second they were all there. Rick hit the guy who was pulling my pubic hair in the face with his elbow, and that guy went down. The other one started running, and Justin tackled him, sending him face first into the sand. Kyle and Ryan helped me up, and Ryan grabbed me up into a huge hug right there in front of them. In a second, Justin and Rick had those two guys on their knees in front of us. They had them by their hair, and I could tell it hurt. "I'm calling the cops," Kyle said. He got his cell phone out of his backpack in an instant, and he had that thing ready to go. "Call 'em if you want to, but they ain't going to come," one of the guys said. "Him and me made a mistake, but y'all might as well let us go." "I don't think so, dude. You are not going to mess with our brother the way you just did and get off. Why won't the cops come?" Rick asked. "Cause we're all queer out here, that's why. They wouldn't come out here for a bunch of niggers, either. As far as they know, it was just a little love spat among queers," he said. I was totally infuriated, and I could tell the rest of them were, too. "You mean, we can spend our money here, but we can't have police protection?" I asked. "You got it, buddy. Y'all ain't getting any help, so you might as well forget it and let us go," he said. "Shit, this is fucked up," Kyle said. "Let's take their clothes and drown 'em." "I'll buy taking their clothes, but we're not killing anybody, Kyle," Kevin said. "Take 'em off," Jus said. "We don't have anything else to put on," the second guy said. "Tough shit. Take the fucking clothes off, man. Do it right now," Jus said. Their asses were white as a cloud, and I knew they were embarrassed. Kyle grabbed a lock of the pubic hair of the guy who had gotten mine, and he yanked. That guy felt it, too, and he let out a howl. "You don't fuck with my brother, you hear me?" Kyle screamed. "Lighten up, man," the guy said. "Goddamn, that hurts." "No, I'm not lightening up on you. That boy has been my best friend all my life, and you ain't getting away with nothing, you fucking son of a bitch." That guy was naked by then, and Kyle shoved him on his ass and made him fall face-first into the sand. "You are so fucking lucky they won't let me drown your ass because that's exactly what the fuck I want to do," Kyle said. Kyle grabbed him by his hair, and I knew that hurt. "You tell him you're sorry for what you did, you motherless piece of shit," Kyle said. "I'm sorry, man," the guy said. "Kick his face in, Philip," Kyle said. "Kyle, calm down, man. I'm not doing that. He didn't hurt me, except to pull my hair, and you got him back for that. I think Rick might have broken his nose. That's enough, Kyle," I said. "I want to go home," Kyle said. "I've had enough of this shit. What do y'all think?" We all said we wanted to go home, too. We had planned to stay for the fireworks that night, but we were ready to get out of there. We packed up and went home. We ran the two guys off, but we left their clothes right there for them to get. "I hope the Disney trip ain't going to be like this," Kyle said on the way home. "I know," I said. "I don't want that, either."
The last part of May was all about Kyle. And that was the way it was supposed to be. He was graduating from high school, after all, and that was a pretty important milestone. Kyle was my ultimate big brother, and I was as proud of him as I could be. "Brian, I'm so proud of you, I could bust," Kyle said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "The whole thing, man. You learning all that stuff from Mr. Mack, and you turning into a real dog man. And winning the science fair, and all. You and Tim are pretty remarkable guys," he said. "Y'all are the two smartest guys I know, but I think you might be a little bit smarter than Tim." "Thanks, Bubba," I said. Kyle was always pretty free with compliments, but, for some reason, I was suspicious. I figured he wanted something. "I know Denny's a good writer, but I don't think he holds a candle to you," Kyle said. "Have you ever even read anything I've written?" I asked. "Well, not exactly, but I just have that feeling about you, Bri. I just know it in my heart," he said. He was being so serious that I couldn't help smiling. He was being cute. "What do you want, Kyle?" I asked. "Now, Bubba, don't say that. You make it sound like you think I'm buttering you up or something," he said. I laughed. "So where are we going with this?" I asked. He looked down at his hand and started scratching the side of his left index finger. Kyle had some kind of skin condition that flared up when he got nervous or anxious. His hands broke out in tiny little blisters that itched him badly. He usually ended up scratching himself until he broke the skin, and, when he did that, he'd get these really ugly scabs. He put his hand to his mouth and started scratching the spot with his teeth. "Don't do that. You're going to break the skin and get scabs on your hand," I said. "It itches bad, though," he said. "Use some of the salve the doctor gave you for that," I said. "I don't know where it is," he said. "What is it you want me to do, Kyle? You know I'll be glad to help you, if I can," I said. Like everybody else in the family, I'd do anything for Kyle. I thought he knew that. "Yeah, I do, but this is going to be hard," he said. "What is it?" He made a deep sigh. "You know my book. . . That picture book?" "Yeah, what about it?" "I'm needing some help with it," he said. "I've got to finish it before we go to Disney and get it in the Fed Ex to them." We had a week off between Memorial Day and our trip to Gay Days in Orlando. I would start summer school and working for Mr. Mack when we got back, and the rest of them would start their summer jobs then, too. "Have you started it?" "They sent me some notes they wrote in New York, and they want me to organize it and get it all polished up," he said. "Do you want me to work with you on that, Kyle?" I asked. "Brian, I know that's trouble, man, but that's what I need. I can pay you for doing it," he said. "Kyle, I can't believe you just said that. You've already paid me way too much in modeling fees. I checked on that. The going rate around here is $75 an hour, not $750, like you paid me," I said. "Besides, what kind of brother would I be if I only helped you because you paid me?" "Just seventy-five and not seven fifty? Shit, I got the damn decimal point wrong. You know I'm lousy at math," he said. I screamed with laughter. The day Kyle Goodson couldn't handle money, decimal points and all, was going to be the day the world ended. "Kyle, I will be honored to help you with that book. Most of the people I've known in my life couldn't even read a book, much less write one. Where's the stuff? Let's get started," I said. "It's on the hard drive of the computer in the study," he said. "I have it on a couple of Zip disks, too. They sent me those in the regular mail. Those have the pictures and the words. We just need to fool with the words, though." We went into the study to look at what he had. I immediately realized that the only way to work with that was in hard copy. "We need to print this whole thing so we can look at the pictures as we work on the text," I said. "This is a pretty slow printer, though." It was a Hewlett Packard Desk Jet in the 800 series. It was a very good printer for home use, but we were beyond regular home use at that point. "Let's take it to Goodson and use that good printer they got there," he said. And that's what we did. It took us about an hour and a half to print the entire book, pictures and all. That was the fastest and best laser printer I had ever seen. "Kyle, these pictures are fantastic. I've never seen most of these," I said. "Thanks. A good many of them are of you," he said. He had his finger back up to his mouth, scratching with his teeth. There were other spots on his hands that he was scratching, too, by then. Once we had it printed out, we went back home to work. The way the book was set up, the picture was going to be on the right-hand page, and the copy was going to be on the left-hand page. We worked at the dining room table. I would read the copy aloud, and then he and I would study over it to see if it said what we thought the picture conveyed. We made a pretty good team, and we both contributed ideas. I had a laptop computer set up on the table, and I was typing in changes onto the zip disks as we worked on them. We broke for lunch and went out to get something to eat. Tim and Denny went with us. We talked about what Kyle and I had been doing. "You don't want our help?" Denny asked. He sounded like he might be a little hurt. "I'm the one who suggested Brian, Denny," Tim said. "I know you're a good writer and all, and I'm not bad, but I thought this was something Brian needed to do. Are you mad at me, Brian?" I didn't believe what he had just said. Mad at him? He had just given me an enormous honor, and he thought I might be mad at him? "Tim, how could you think that? I'm having a great time doing it," I said. "You're getting credit for it, too, don't think you're not," Kyle said. "I'm dedicating the book to Tim Murphy and all the boys of Emerald Beach, though. But you'll get credit by name, Brian. In addition to the dedication." Everybody was a little stunned by that announcement. "I can't believe I have a brother who's writing a book," Denny said. "Two brothers, I mean." "It's really just mostly pictures," Kyle said. "It ain't like we're writing a novel or something." "But, still, Kyle," Denny said. "You're only eighteen. How many eighteen-year-olds write books of any kind?" "Well, let's change the subject. Who wants to sleep on the island tonight?" Kyle asked. We all did, and that occupied conversation for the rest of lunch. That first day we worked on the book was the Tuesday after Memorial Day, and Kyle and I worked that afternoon until the rest of them got home from work. Kevin and Rick didn't want to go to the island, but Jus, Chuck, and Tony did. We called Jeff and Ty to see if they wanted to go, but we never could get them. They either weren't home or weren't answering their phone at home. They both must have had their cell phones turned off, too. We didn't bother leaving messages. Denny called Brady, and he wanted to go, and we got Chip to go with us, too. Since there were nine of us going, plus the two dogs, we decided to take two boat loads. In less than two hours, we had all the people and all the equipment over there. We did our usual nudist thing on the island, and we played all the games we usually did. Nobody went in the water because there was no way to shower off, and we didn't want to be all sticky from the salt. The next morning Kyle ferried the working boys into shore to get ready for work. He brought back breakfast for the rest of us, and we packed up camp, such as it was, and left right after we ate. "Tim, can you take the wheel, please?" Kyle asked. "Sure, but what's the matter?" Tim asked. "I've got to take a shit so bad I can't stand it," Kyle said. He walked to the back of the boat, hiked down his shorts, stuck his butt out over the stern of the boat, and took care of business. It took less than a minute, and then he asked us to pass him some paper napkins, which we did. "Kyle, that was so cool," Chip said. "I've never seen anybody do that before." "Cool or not, it had to be done," he said. We all laughed. I thought about the fact that Kyle and I were working on an art book he had created, that a major international publisher was willing to invest money in, with the hope of reaping a profit. And there I was, his collaborator on the text of the book, watching him relieve himself off the end of a boat. Unbelievable. The next two days, Kyle and I poured over that manuscript. Most of the stuff the people in New York had written was very good, and Kyle and I both liked it. We made minor changes here and there to that material. The trouble was, they really hadn't written anything for about ten of the seventy pictures in the book. Kyle and I had to come up with that. That's what took the time. The comments in the text were supposed to help the reader understand nuances of the pictures. It was sort of a critical commentary on the photos. Like other artists I had read about, Kyle pretty much didn't have a clue about what any of it "meant." The whole book was supposed to show aspects of boyhood, and the pictures definitely did that. But what do you say about a picture that showed me and Tim reading in the den with our feet propped up? And Tim with a hole in the big toe of his sock? We both had pretty intense looks on our faces, but all we were doing was reading. "This one here baffles me," Kyle said, referring to that picture. "What do you say about that? 'Boys who need new socks are sometimes serious readers?'" I laughed, of course. There were a few nudes in the book, but all of them were of guys over eighteen, and none of them were porno. They were just nude studies. One was of Justin with a huge slice of watermelon. He had already taken a few bites out of it, and he was holding that thing in both hands and grinning. There were flecks of watermelon around his mouth, and a black watermelon seed was stuck to his penis. "And this one, too. 'Naked boys like watermelon?'" I laughed. "Both of those are magnificent pictures, Kyle. I'll think of something," I said. We did that for two-and-a-half days, and we had it all finished by late Thursday morning, around eleven. "Let's email it to 'em," Kyle said. "And then send them the disks, too." We sent the email, and then he and I drove to the closest Fed Ex pick-up box. We put those disks in the box and went home. Doing that work with Kyle wasn't easy, and I knew why he needed help. But that work let us bond like he and I had never bonded before. Justin and I were lovers, Tim and I were best friends and had science fair and other school-related things, and now Kyle and I had that book. I had a special and unique relationship with each of those three guys, and I loved it. * * * We left for Disney World and Gay Days at one o'clock on the day we put the book in Fed Ex. There were eight of us in Kyle's new car: Kevin, Rick, Kyle, Tim, Philip, Ryan, Justin, and me. Jeff and Tyler were in Jeff's car, but they had left earlier in the day after Ty's last class. All of us were staying at the Hotel Royal Plaza, which was the host hotel for Gay Days. The trip to Orlando took us about seven hours, and we all took turns driving. "I wish Denny had come with us," I said. "I know, but he's a little young yet," Kevin said. "Besides, he was glad to get the extra money for those tickets. He sure does seem happy, doesn't he?" "He told me that he was happier than he ever imagined being, especially after he and Brady started dating," Kyle said. "I think those two are pretty cute, don't you?" "I think they're very cute," Rick said. "When is the summer crowd going to start rolling in?" "We're getting home Monday, right?" Tim asked. "Right," Kevin said. "Well, my cousin Paddy is coming the next day. His brother, Tony, wanted to come, too, but his parents wouldn't let him. Just for a visit, though, not to live for the summer," Tim said. "They thought he was too young to have to go home by himself." "How old is he?" Kyle asked. "He's seventeen," Tim said. "That's old enough for him to come," Kyle said. "Kyle, not everybody's parents let them go all over the damn place by themselves, you know," Ryan said. "Mine and Philip's parents would no more let us go to Orlando without a grown-up on the trip than fly." "Mine would," Kyle said. "And there's nothing wrong with my parents." "I never meant that there was, Kyle," Ryan said. "But that's what your parents think, isn't it?" Kyle said. "My parents think the world of your parents, Kyle, and you damn well know it," Ryan said. "Kyle, your parents know that you've had a lot of experience traveling. They made it their business to make sure you knew how to handle yourself in new places and all. The biggest trip Ryan and I ever went on by ourselves was to Tallahassee to see his grandparents," Philip said. "It's just a difference in families, man. Miss Shirley and Mr. Pat love your parents, Kyle. They're some of their best friends, aren't they?" "Mr. Pat and my daddy grew up together," Kyle said. "Just like him and Mr. Cliff." "Is Mr. Cliff your daddy?" Justin asked Philip, and Philip nodded. "Well, I think the Ryans should have let Tony come on down to see us," Kyle said, "but it really ain't any of my business, I guess." "Are Chris and David coming, like we talked about last year?" Rick asked. "Yeah, but only for two weeks. They're getting here on June 20th and leaving on July 6th," Kyle said. "That's the most therapy he can miss. Otherwise, they might have stayed the whole summer." "Rick, we knew that, Babe," Kevin said. "I know," Rick said. "Is Seth coming?" Rick asked. "Yeah, but only for the Fourth of July. Him and Curt. Oh, you know what? Jerry told me that Father Vince, the priest in Sarasota, is coming for a visit then, too." Kyle said. "Evidently, they made friends when Jerry said the Mass with Vince for your grandpa's funeral, Rick. They've been writing and talking on the phone and all. They're going to spend a few days here and then drive over to New Orleans for some kind of meeting. A priest meeting, I guess." "Is Jeff going to see his brother this summer?" Tim asked. "Yeah. His brother and his partner are coming to see Jeff and Tyler. When he told me that, they didn't have a date set yet, though. But I'm guessing it will be for the Fourth. Josh and Patrick both graduated in May," Kevin said. "Do they need jobs?" Rick asked. "It's my understanding they have jobs lined up in Jacksonville," Kevin said. "Doing what?" Kyle asked. "They're both architects. Actually, Patrick is an interior designer, and Josh is straight architecture," Kevin said. "Interior designer. Nothing gay about that profession," Philip said. "Actually, Philip, he does industrial interior design. Like factories and stuff," Kevin said. "He's not Christopher Lowell on the Discovery Channel." "Well, thank God for that," Philip said. "Why the fuck do you care?" Kyle demanded. "'Interior designer' is a code word for 'interior decorator,'" Philip said. "Do you want your brother's brother's partner to be an interior decorator?" "Why would I give two shits and a holler what Jeff's brother's partner does for a living?" Kyle asked. "It's just too gay, that's all," Philip said. "Yeah? What do you want to be? Huh? A hairdresser? Or a florist?" That made us all laugh. Philip was just as masculine as Kyle and Justin. "I'm going to major in real estate and go into the real estate and development business with my brothers and my daddy, Kyle. You know that, asshole," Philip said. "My family has been doing that for years." "I know. Bilking the Goodsons, left and right," Kyle said. "You don't really believe that, do you Kyle?" Philip said. He was serious. Kyle laughed. "Philip, I don't know, and I don't care. Your daddy and my daddy have been friends since they were little boys. Our grandpas were friends, too. I have to figure that if we're still doing business with your family, it's all fair and square. I know this much, Philip. Business waxes and wanes, but friendships like ours and theirs don't," Kyle said. "I know," Philip said. |