We called it the Beta Rho Fraternity, but it really was more like a social club of all guys than a real fraternity. I mean, some of the stuff was like a regular fraternity. You had to be asked to join it; you couldn't just sign up. We had a set of by-laws that said what kind of officers we had, what the fraternity did, and shit like that, but those were like two single-spaced typed pages. To show you how organized it was, when they wanted to give us new members a copy of it, nobody could find one. They had to end up calling the older brother of one of the officers to see if he still had his from when he was in it. He did, so they didn't have to go through the trouble of writing it up all over again. "Isn't there a copy on file with the Student Activity Board?" I asked Skeeter McGhee, our president and the guy who asked me to join. "I don't know. I didn't think of that, Kyle. Hell, you ought to be the president, not me," he said. "Not me," I said. "I'm only going to be in it one year." "Oh, that's right. Well, you'll have fun, though. How about being Service Chairman?" he asked. "What does he do?" I asked. "We do some service projects, you know? he said. "Like what?" I asked. "Well, like helping the old ladies at the retirement center get laid," he said. I laughed hard at how serious he had said that. "You don't believe me?" he asked. He was laughing at his own foolishness. "Hell, no, I don't believe you," I said. "But if it's for real, I'll help, as long as I don't have to do it." "Kyle, that's gross, man. All those damn loose, saggy-ass pussies. Ewww. No thank you," he said. "What? I thought you wanted pussy any time you could get it," I said. "Well, I do, but not my grandma's pussy," he said. "I like 'em young, tight, succulent. You know what I'm saying?" "Well, not first hand, I don't," I said. "I can imagine, though." "Oh, that's right. I forget you're queer. You need to get you something, like an earring or something like that, to remind us so we don't say stupid shit and embarrass you," he said. "You ain't going to embarrass me. There are some other gay boys in this thing, too, you know?" "Yeah, I know. Kyle, nobody really gives a fuck, okay? Don't ever forget that. You're our friends and our brothers, and every last one of y'all is a Beach Rat, just like me. That's really all that matters," he said. I never thought he would be that open-minded, that's for sure. I mean he was likeable as hell, and I remembered that he almost didn't graduate from high school because of all the shit he stayed in. One time his daddy was all set to send his ass to military boarding school, but somehow he squirmed his way out of that. His family has a chain of Waffle House and Waffle Shop restaurants, and one day Skeeter and his brother were going to run the whole thing. That's when I would stop eating waffles. "So, Kyle, are you going to do it, or not?" he asked. "Do what? Fuck the old ladies at the retirement home?" I asked. "No, asshole. Not that. Be our Service Chairman," he said. "Yeah, I guess I'll do that," I said. "What do I have to do?" "Line up and organize some service projects, that's what. First, talk to people who are having events and shit to find out what kind of help they need. Then, make a list to present to the officers. We'll decide which ones we can do and which ones we want to do," he said. "You mean like charities and shit like that?" I asked. "Yeah, that's exactly right. Now, we've got some standing ones we do every year. For instance, the College has a public radio station, and every year, twice a year, in fact, they have an on-air fund raising. We always man the phones for them. People call in with their pledges, and we take down the information. We also help out with the Emerald Coast Seafood Festival in October, the Ironman in November, the Optimist Club Christmas tree lot in December. We usually do about ten or twelve a year. Or at least we did last year. I guess that's the usual number," he said. "Does somebody have records on all of this from last year?" I asked. "Maybe. Maybe not. We're not too good about keeping up with stuff," he said. "Sounds like me," I said. "I figured that. It's a good thing we've got guys who have been members for four or five years. They remember stuff," he said. "We have guys who've been members four or five years? It ain't but a two-year college. How can that be?" I asked. "Yeah, but don't everybody go through in just two years. I figure it's going to take me three, at the least," he said. I thought about ole Brian and Tim, wanting to get through as fast as they could. I figured Justin would probably take three years, if we were going to be here, but he had some very good reasons for that. Me, I wanted to be out of school as fast as I could. I was not a natural-born school boy the way my boyfriend was, and I knew it. "So, who might have the records?" I asked. He said a name that I didn't know. Something Johnson, I think he said. He said he'd talk to the boy about them, though. Skeeter and I were sitting in an outdoor area at the Student Union. It was hot outside, but he wanted to smoke, and you couldn't smoke anywhere indoors. He checked his watch. "I've got to go to class," he said. "I'll get those records for you. Thanks for doing it, man. You're going to be good at it. Catch you later." "Okay. Catch you later," I said. Skeeter McGhee was a very high-spirited boy. Senior year, his girlfriend turned up pregnant. I was a junior, and she was in my class. I really liked her, and she and I were pretty good friends. She told me the news about the baby one day, just a-crying her eyes out. I tried to be sympathetic because she was so upset, but I thought, Don't you know about birth control? Of course, I didn't say anything. Getting your girlfriend pregnant in high school was a two-edged sword. On one edge, all your guy friends thought you were a stud and an awesome cocksman, and all. They all wanted a play-by-play about how it happened, like they didn't know. On the other edge, though, was all the shit you had to take from all the girls, from her parents, from your parents, and even from some of the teachers who thought they were there to raise us and not just teach us. Then, when the baby came, something had to be done with it. And somebody had to support it. Ole Skeeter managed to dodge the bullet, though. His girlfriend had a miscarriage, or some shit like that. I figured she had an abortion, but I kept my mouth shut about that. Anyway, there was no baby forthcoming, and she gave Skeeter his walking papers soon after that was all over with. "Who was that guy you were talking to?" Justin asked me when I went back into the Union to cool off. "That was Skeeter McGhee. He's the president of Beta Rho. Let me get a bottle of water. I'm burning up," I said. I got a bottle of cold water and went back to Justin's table. "He suckered me into being Service Chairman. I've got to line up all the service projects we do," I said. "If he had any sense, he'd have made you entertainment chairman so you could put on some parties and dinners and whatnot," he said. "I think I'm going to enjoy this, though. It'll be like my volunteer job," I said. "I thought you were going to work at the UCP place," Jus said. "That's what I wanted to do, but they didn't really have anything for me. They needed somebody to work in the infant stimulation program they have. I wasn't interested in working with babies. They need a girl or a woman to do that," I said. "The only other job they had was grounds keeper, and there's nothing to that. I mean, once you call the lawn service, the job is done," I said. "Call the lawn service? You think that's what they wanted the grounds keeper to do? They wanted the grounds keeper to be the lawn service, Kyle. Not hire the lawn service. Have you ever cut grass?" he asked. "No. Have you?" I asked. "A few times, yeah. It's hard work. Sweaty. Nasty," he said. "I don't know how to tell you this, Kyle, but most people do their own lawns." "Yeah, I guess you're right. We never did that stuff in my family, and Kevin and Rick don't do it, either," I said. "That's 'cause they're rich. They can afford to have a lawn service. Most people can't afford that, or don't want to spend their money that way," he said. "You've got a lot to learn about a poor man's life, son." "I guess I do," I said. "But do I really want to learn it?" "Yeah, you do, and here's why. One day you're going to have a whole lot of people working for you who won't be poor, exactly, but they won't be rich, either. You have to be able to understand where they're coming from on different things. Let's take a yard as an example, since that's what we've been talking about. A lot of people take a lot of pride in their yards, and it's damn hard work. Let's say one day your secretary comes in all excited because she got 'Yard of the Month' in her neighborhood. You've got to know that she did more than just design the yard and supervise the people who made it happen. Or, in the case of your family, pick out the design she liked best from the designs the landscaper proposed," he said. I was soaking up everything he was saying because I knew he had more practical experience with that kind of thing than I did. When my parents built their new house, the landscape architect really did just present several different plans for them to choose from. They even asked my opinion and Tim's opinion about which one we liked best. Or which combination. All the gardens at their house--front, back, and both sides--are beautiful, but neither one of my parents ever turned the first spade of dirt. "Justin, I feel like I've learned a whole lot in these last fifteen minutes talking to you about this. You need to keep this kind of stuff up. I'm counting on you," I said. "Kyle, you and Kevin and Rick have taught me so much about how rich people live and do things, I can't even list it all. Y'all keep teaching me about being rich, and I'll keep teaching you about being poor, and maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle," he said. "That sounds real good, but let's meet on the rich side of the middle, okay?" I said. He laughed. "You shit," he said. "Call me a shit all you want to, Bubba, but the fact of the matter is, you're never going to be poor again," I said. He got quiet, and I knew he was thinking. "I guess you're right," he said. Big tears were glistening in his eyes. They weren't rolling yet, but they were right there on ready. "I hadn't really ever thought about that before. I guess my life made a bigger change than I thought when y'all rescued me that day." He dabbed at his eyes with a paper napkin. "Let me buy you an ice cream bar out of that case over there," I said. "You shithead," he said. We both laughed. "I mean it. I want one, too," I said. "Get 'em. I can eat one," he said.
It was hard going back to school without Kyle being there. When he was a senior, I didn't really see him that much during the school day, but I knew he was there. He made the morning announcements every day, and I loved watching him on TV. Then we always went to lunch together with the rest of the guys, and I'd see him then. We didn't kiss, or even touch except incidentally, at lunch, but just being in the same room with Kyle made me happy. The other thing I didn't really like was I was the only senior. It was like it fell to me to keep our group at Beachside High School together and organized. Brian and I were a team, sort of, but even he looked to me for leadership. Kyle and Justin were the leader types. Brian and I were the followers. Chad was a junior like Brian, but he had almost no leadership ability that I could tell. "Who's going to lunch with us?" Brian asked me the first day of school. "I don't know. Help me figure it out," I said. I had a car, and Brian had a car, so nine guys could go with us, four in mine and five in Brian's. "Well, you, me, Denny, Murray, Brady, Chip, Chad," Brian said. "That's seven. Does anybody else need to go?" "David used to go with us sometimes last year," I said. "But I haven't talked to him since school was out. I don't even know if he still goes here." "If we see him, let's invite him," Brian said. A week later, after we had met the new next door neighbors, Wade and Reid, we invited them to join us for lunch, too. They both wanted to go to lunch with us after we explained it, and that took some weight off me. They were both seniors, too, and we were back up to three seniors in our group. * * * We planned a big bash for Labor Day. Craig and Cherie were coming with little Rob, and we couldn't wait to see them. "Who are these people?" Murray asked. "It's my brother, his wife, and my nephew," Kevin said. "How old is the nephew?" Murray asked. "He's just a little over two months old. He was born on Justin's birthday on July Fourth," Kevin said. "I wish Grandma and Grandpa were coming," Kyle said. "Why aren't they, any way?" "They're in Europe right now, Kyle. It's their vacation," Kevin said. "They need to plan that better next year so they can be here with us," Kyle said. "What about your parents, Rick?" "They're tied up with school stuff, Kyle. Now that Arnie is Superintendent, he's got to be there," Rick said. "They want to see Rob in the worst way, but they can't come." "I think it sucks that a family can't be together on a sacred day like Labor Day," Kyle said. "A sacred day?" Rick asked. "Ain't it religious?" Kyle asked. "I thought that was the day Mary went into labor for Jesus." "Kyle, think about it, Babe. If she went into labor at the start of September, and Jesus wasn't born until December 25th, that would have been way too long," I said. "Well, what is Labor Day for?" Kyle asked. "It's the holiday for the labor unions, Kyle. It celebrates the importance of labor and labor unions in our country," Kevin said. "Oh. I didn't know that," Kyle said, and I didn't, either. For us, Labor Day was the end of the summer season. The transformation of the beaches was remarkable. It was still summer, of course, but the number of people visiting fell from 30,000 a weekend to 3,000 a weekend after Labor Day. Gradually through September things quieted down, and by the first weekend in October there were few tourists in the area. * * * The baby still didn't do much, but he could hold his head up and sort of look around. "When's he going to start to crawl?" Kyle asked. "Not for several more months," Cherie said. "He strong, and he's been gaining weight right on schedule. He should be scooting around by the time he's six months old." "I can't wait till he can walk and talk," Kyle said. "We're going to have some fun with him, that's for sure." "How is college?" Cherie asked Kyle and Justin. "It's all right, I reckon," Justin said. "I'm doing pretty good in math, which I was scared of at first. I'm learning how to take pictures, too." "Really? Do you have any to show?" Cherie asked. "Yeah. Let me get 'em," Justin said. He was proud of his pictures, but I think Kyle was even prouder of Justin's pictures than Justin was. "Ain't they good?" Kyle asked. "They're not as good as yours," Justin said. "Yeah, maybe not, but those are the first ones you ever took, Bubba. Give yourself some credit," Kyle said. "This sunset is beautiful, Jus," Cherie said. Justin beamed. "I want him to get himself a good camera," Kyle said. "What camera have you been using?" Cherie asked. "A rental from the college," Jus said. "I want to get me one, but I want to make sure I like taking pictures first before I put a lot of money into a camera." "That makes sense," she said. Kyle and Philip Andrews, who was home for the weekend, went SCUBA diving Saturday morning, and they came back with two huge crates of those shovelnose lobsters. Kyle filled up a small hamper with those, and he and I took them over to Miss Sally's house. Kyle rang the doorbell, and we waited. Miss Sally came to the door. "Hi, guys. Happy Labor Day," she said. "Hi, and same to you," Kyle said. "I brought you some lobsters." "Great! You said you would, and I was hoping you wouldn't forget," she said. "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said. "Where do you want them?" "Would you mind bringing them into the kitchen?" she asked. "Sure," Kyle said. We took the hamper into the kitchen and set it on the counter next to the sink. "Would you guys like a coke or something?" she asked. "No, ma'am, but thanks. We've got to go. We've got a house full back at Kevin and Rick's," Kyle said. "Listen, thank you so much for the lobsters. We're having a gathering on Monday, and those will be a big hit," she said. "Good. I think I'd probably dress 'em and freeze 'em, if I were you," Kyle said. "Do you know how to dress 'em?" "I don't, but I'm sure my husband does. He's not here right now, but he'll be home in a little while," she said. "Well, if he doesn't know how, tell him to call me. I'll come over and show him how to do it," Kyle said. "Okay. Thanks again, fellows," she said. "Don't mention it," Kyle said. "Tim, I haven't really seen you much yet this year. How are your classes going?" she asked as she was walking us out. "They're going great. I have Mr. Lawley for calculus, and he's the best teacher I've ever had," I said. "And, he's a friend of ours." "Oh, I know. Mike's a marvelous teacher. I wish I could clone him," she said. "Is everything working out for the other boy? What was his name, Kyle?" "Murray Schultz. Yes, ma'am, everything's fine now. We're trying to help him lose some weight. He's been on the Weight Watchers diet, and so far he's lost six pounds," Kyle said. "This is part of his total makeover. We're working on him being less sissified, too." "Don't press too hard with his mannerisms, Kyle. He might not be able to help the way he is," she said. "Yes, ma'am, I know that, but there are some things he can do to be more masculine. It's just a question of him remembering to do it," Kyle said. "Did he ask you for help with that?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am, he did. Miss Sally, we don't make fun of people," Kyle said. "I didn't think you did," she said. "Well, we need to get going. Have a good holiday," Kyle said. "You, too, guys. And thanks again for the lobsters." "I didn't realize Murray had asked you for help being more masculine," I said, once we were back in the car. "Yeah, he asked me and Justin," Kyle said. "What kinds of things did you tell him to do? Or not do?" I asked. "Have you noticed how he crosses his legs when he sits down? When you and I cross our legs we put the ankle of one leg over the knee of the other one. Murray puts knee on knee. That's the way a lady does it," Kyle said. "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right," I said. "When he puts his hands on his hips, he turns his hands up. You and I turn our hands down. Justin's got this thing with the way Murray holds a cigarette. He's working on that with him. Trouble is, Murray doesn't smoke enough for it to make much impact," Kyle said. "Speaking of smoking, you've quit, haven't you?" I said. He shrugged. "It never bothered me when you were smoking," I said. "I still smoke sometimes, especially when I'm around Philip and Ryan," he said. "Did you smoke today with Philip?" I asked. "No," he said. "But talking about it is making me want one." I laughed, and he did, too. "Kyle, I love you so much," I said. "I can't even imagine somebody being able to take your place in my life." "I love you, too, but what brought that on?" he asked. "I don't know. I just felt like saying it, I guess," I said. We were nearing our driveway, and another car had just pulled up. Seth and Curt from New Orleans got out of it. "Look who's here," Kyle said. We had a big reunion with Seth and Curt, and there was a lot of hugging and handshaking all around. Every time we saw Seth he looked better and better, and it was hard to imagine that the boy we saw that day had once been a scrawny, ugly bean pole. All of our friends came, too, and so did the neighbors on both sides. It was a mob of people, and Cherie was the only woman there. We all took turns tending to the baby so Cherie could get involved with some of the activities outside. She wore a swim suit for everything, skiing and pool. Kyle and I didn't know what to do about the situation, so Kyle discussed the matter with Craig. "Is Cherie going to be embarrassed if some of the guys get naked?" he said. "Kyle, if anybody should be embarrassed, it's you for showing that pitiful little thing you've got," Craig said. "Very funny," Kyle said, "but that's not what I meant." "I know it's not, but I couldn't resist," Craig said. "Actually, she mentioned that on the way over." "Y'all talked about my dick on the way over here?" Kyle asked, trying to sound shocked but not really succeeding. "Yeah. She asked me if you have one," Craig said. "What did she really say?" Kyle asked. "She said she hoped that her being here wouldn't inhibit anyone when it came to skinny dipping. Those were her exact words," Craig said. "Are you going to swim naked?" I asked. "I'm going to wait to see what Kevin and Rick do," Craig said. "That's a good idea," Kyle said. "Let's you and me do that, too, Babe." "Okay," I said. I felt sort of relieved. As it turned out, nobody took their suits off as long as Cherie was outside, but we did when she went inside after dinner that night to watch a movie that Jeff had brought over. I figured that sooner or later Cherie would see all of us naked, and I also knew she couldn't care less if we wore suits or not. It was just one of those taboos that was hard to break, I guess.
I loved it in Emerald Beach, and every time I was there I marveled more and more at the wonderful thing that was taking place in that house. They had a new one that I hadn't met before. Murray, and he seemed to fit in right along with the rest of them. He was rather effeminate and somewhat overweight, but that didn't seem to bother the other guys. The main reason for our going was the holiday, of course, but I also had a little bit of business to transact with Kyle. I was able to drag him away from playing for a little while on Sunday afternoon, and he and I met in the study with the door closed. "Whacha got for me?" he asked, all grins. "I need your signature on some documents, kind sir," I said. "For you, I'll do anything," he said. God! What a charmer, I thought. I explained to him what the documents were all about. He paid polite attention, but I could tell he wasn't the least bit interested in what I was telling him. "So, right now your holdings are worth a little more than sixteen million dollars," I said. That actually got his attention. "Whoa! That's quite a bit, isn't it?" he said. "Yes, it is," I said. "And it's in extremely safe securities. The accountant asked me to check to make sure you're getting your check every month. You are, aren't you?" "Yes, ma'am," he said. I started to give him a flippant reply, but I knew he wasn't trying to tease me by using "ma'am." "So what are you doing with them? You've only cashed one of them since November," I said. "I don't need that much money," he said. "I guess I should just put them in my savings account or something, huh?" "Yes. Don't leave checks lying around. Where are they right now?" I asked. "In my car," he said. I controlled my urge to scream at him. "When we're finished, I want you to go get them out of your car and take them up to your room," I said. "And Tuesday I want you to deposit them." "Okay," he said. "Cherie, I want to talk to you about money for my brothers." I knew that was coming. He had told me months ago that he wanted to bestow money on Tim, Justin, and Brian. I had encouraged him to wait until they were eighteen, but he actually couldn't do what he wanted to do until he turned twenty-one. Evidently, I hadn't made that clear to him. "Kyle, I know you do, baby, but you can't do that right now," I said. "Why not? Justin's nineteen," he said. "You said I had to wait until they turned eighteen." "I know I told you that, and that's true. Evidently I didn't fully explain everything. Kyle, the way your trust is set up makes it impossible for you to get to the principal until you're twenty-one. When you turned eighteen, you started getting a portion of the dividends every month. You're not getting money from the principal. In fact, most of the dividends are being reinvested, too. That's why the amount keeps growing. When you turn twenty-one, you get full control over the whole thing. That's when you can set up trusts, or something similar, for your guys," I said. "Damn," he said. "Does Justin need money right now?" I asked. "No, not especially, but I want him to feel secure and independent," he said. "Do the boys know you plan to do this?" I asked. "No, you told me not to tell them," he said. "And I haven't." "I think it would be prudent to wait until Brian turns eighteen before you give anybody anything," I said. "How much were you thinking?" "I don't know. Two million apiece, I guess," he said. "That would leave you ten million, at least," I said. "You could live well on the dividends from that much money." "About how much would they get from two million?" he asked. "It's hard to know, for sure, but I would guess about seventy-five thousand a year, give or take," I said. "They could live on that amount, I'm pretty sure. Unless they become international playboys, or something." "Well, I guess there's not much point in talking about it until I can actually do it," he said. "That's true," I said. "Do you understand now how this thing works?" His mood had taken a decided downward turn. "Yeah," he said. "I know this is depressing to you, but it's exactly how I would have set it up. Look at the bright side. You and your boys have a wonderful life here. You've got everything you need. You're surrounded by people who love you. You're all very happy and well adjusted. There will come a time when you'll be able to make those three guys financially independent. In the meantime, just have fun with your boys," I said. "Would you ever consider leaving Craig and marrying me?" he asked in total deadpan. That took me totally by surprise, and I started laughing. "I guess that's a 'no,'" he said. "You are something else," I said, still laughing in delight at him. "Would you leave Tim for me?" "No, it would be the three of us, and Rob, of course," he said. "Ah ha! There's the ulterior motive. You want that baby, don't you?" Now it was his turn to laugh. "You see right through me," he said. "Maybe some day you and Tim will have a son of your own," I said. "Oh, we will. You can count on that," he said. "That's really all I have for today," I said. "We can go play some more." We stood up to leave. He took me in his arms to hug me like any man would any woman. I found myself becoming slightly aroused at his touch, and his Speedo did nothing to conceal his own reaction. For an instant, I wondered just how gay Kyle really was. We separated. "That was nice. Thank you," I said. "And you seem to have enjoyed it, too." He looked down at his crotch. "Oh, my God! I can't believe you said that. I'm so embarrassed," he said. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked. "No! I want to hide in shame. Please don't tell anybody about what happened," he said. "I can't tell anybody, and I wouldn't even if I could. Not even Craig," I said. "Oh, Jesus, please don't tell him. I'm so sorry, Cherie. I'll never do anything like that again. I promise," he said. "I really didn't do it on purpose." "Kyle, you don't have anything to be ashamed of, and I know you didn't do anything on purpose. Think about it from my point of view, though," I said. "What?" "I turned on a gay guy. Or started to, at least, and I wasn't even trying. You just sent my ego through the roof, and I can't say a damn thing about it to anybody," I said. "I love you, Cherie, but not like that. I feel like I've been unfaithful to Tim, or something," he said. "Well, you haven't been unfaithful to Tim. It's ridiculous to think that way, Kyle. Are you okay now?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. I looked at the bulge in his suit. It was large, but not any larger than it usually was. I left that meeting aching for a piece of Craig.
Whenever I went to Emerald Beach, I felt as though I had come home to my family. The weeks I had spent there the summer before had been the happiest time of my life, and walking into that house brought back all those good memories. Curt and I were very much in love, and we had both decided that our relationship was the most important thing in our lives. He was a sophomore at UNO, and I was a freshman at Tulane. We lived in half of a shotgun house in Mid-City near City Park, so it was about equally convenient for both of us. Shotgun houses are duplexes, with the rooms lined up one behind the other. The saying was that you could shoot a shotgun into the front door, and the shot would fly out the back door without hitting anything. I don't know if anybody had ever tested that, but it certainly seemed possible. Our house had been renovated and modernized a few years before by our landlords, a thirties-something gay couple of long duration who lived in the other half of the house. There was no off-street parking, and that was a bit of a problem sometimes, but otherwise the place was great. The small back yard wasn't divided in half, and they had landscaped it beautifully. It even had a hot tub that both sides shared. One of the guys who lived next door worked for the New Orleans Museum of Art, and the other one had a job in the finance office of a local hospital. They were great guys, but they didn't know we were gay when they rented the place to us. When they found that out, they sort of took us under their wings, like we were their little brothers or something. "How do you like Tulane, Seth?" Craig asked me while we were lounging around on the patio. "So far, so good," I said. "It's only been a few weeks, but so far, I like it." "Have you pledged a frat?" he asked. "Naw. I decided not to do that," I said. "My dad was a little disappointed, I think, but he'll get over it." "That would be kind of difficult with Curt at UNO," he said. "That's what I thought, too. I'm going to be in activities, though. I talked to them at The Hullabaloo, and I'm going to be working on their staff," I said. "A reporter?" Craig asked. "Features, not news," I said. "I tried to get him to write sports, thinking maybe we could get some free tickets for games, but he wasn't interested," Curt said. "You have to know something about sports to write sports stories, and you have to care, which I don't," I said. Craig and the guys around us laughed. "I think he's making a very good point, Curt," Craig said. "Although you've really bulked up, Bubba." "Thanks. We both have," I said. "True, but you had further to go than he did," Craig said. "The new guy seems really nice," I said, changing the subject to get it away from me. "Yeah, but he's a little bit Tinkerbellish," Craig said. "Not that it matters. I just feel for guys like that because I know they get picked on more than other guys do. Even the straight Tinkerbells do." "Well, if I know Kyle and this bunch here, they'll make sure he's safe," I said. "He looks to me like maybe he's Jewish. Does he to you?" "You're learning how to spot Jews, and you've only been at Tulane a month," Craig said. "Well, there are quite a few Jews at that school," I said. "It's a refreshing change from the Catholic ghetto I've lived in all my life." "I know what you mean. I remember thinking that I could finally say 'Jesus Christ!' as an expletive and half the people didn't bow their heads," Craig said. It so happened that everybody in that little group was Catholic, and we all roared with laughter. "What's so funny? What are y'all laughing at?" Kyle asked as he came out of the house. I told him what Craig had said, and most of us laughed again. "I don't get it," Kyle said. "Kyle, in Catholic school we were taught to always bow our heads slightly when you said, or heard somebody else say, the name 'Jesus.' It got to be a habit," Craig said, "and you'd see guys doing it if somebody let out that name in anger or in a game or something. Or even if they said it themselves. It's just one of the little things about life in the Catholic ghetto of New Orleans." "That, and making the sign of the cross when you pass a church," I said. "I broke myself of that habit when I was in high school and had to take city busses to school sometimes. A lot of people on the bus did it, though." "I still do that occasionally, and Cherie does it every time," Craig said. "That's pretty cool, I think. It's like a secret handshake or something," Kyle said. "Of course, over there, there are so many churches that you pass all the time." "Exactly," I said. "What other stuff like that did y'all do?" Kyle asked. "Gosh, I don't know," Craig said. "In high school there would be periodic unannounced rosary checks. Are they still doing that?" "Oh, yes," I said. "They did that at my high school in Baton Rouge, too," Curt said. "Well, yeah. It's the same order," I said. "So what's a rosary check?" Kyle asked. "We were required to have a rosary on us at all times, and you'd get in trouble if you didn't have one," Craig said. "Did you need 'em for school?" Kyle asked. "Yeah. We used to say a decade of the rosary every day after lunch," I said. "And for some reason they thought it was necessary to have a physical rosary in your hand to do it right. My father still carries his rosary in his pocket all the time." "Mine does, too," Craig said. "I'm not sure he ever says the rosary, but he's always got it handy if he needs it. Cherie's always got one in her purse, and my mother probably does, too. Habits of a lifetime." "Oh, another thing. Holy water fonts in the classrooms. Every classroom had one, and I had a friend who had them all over his house," Craig said. "That would be me," Curt said. "There was one in every bedroom. I always thought it would be convenient to have one in the bathroom so you wouldn't have to wash your hands after you took a leak. I, for one, never pissed on my hand, and I never knew why they insisted I wash up afterward." Craig and Father Jerry almost fell off their chairs, they were laughing so hard. "And did you have a sick call set in the house?" Jerry asked. "Had? Hell, we still do. We got one as a wedding present," Craig said. "What is that?" Kyle asked. "It's basically a crucifix that comes apart. The bottom half forms a stand that you can put the crucifix in to stand up straight on a table. There are also a couple of little candles for either side of the crucifix. Kind of like birthday candles. And a little bottle of holy water, I think," Craig said. "You use that when somebody in the house is dying and the priest comes to give them the last rites." "You got that for your wedding?" Kyle asked. "That's kind of morbid." "Oh, that's very much a traditional Catholic wedding gift," Jerry said. "In the Boston area, that's what the bride's godmother gives the couple." "Damn, I'm learning a lot about you Catholics," Kyle said. "You Catholics?" Jerry asked. "Us Catholics, I should have said," Kyle said. "I've always been fascinated by the fact that we have devotions to various bodily organs," Jerry said. "Like what?" Kyle asked. "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right, Jerry," I said. "Like what?" Kyle asked again, that time with more vehemence. "Well, the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Immaculate Heart of Mary. The Holy Face. The Precious Blood. And, until a few decades ago, the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said. "The Circumcision of Jesus?! What the hell are you talking about, man? The Holy Dick, or something?" Kyle asked. "Well, we never called it the Holy Dick, but New Year's Day used to be the feast of the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said. "Now it's called the Solemnity of Mary, which is a meaningless concept, I think. I think they changed it for reasons of political correctness and decorum. That devotion to organs has always been there, though." Kyle was laughing his ass off over that, but I had actually heard priests say that January first was the day we celebrated the circumcision of Jesus. It was the eighth day of the life of Jesus, if you considered December 25th to be his real birthday, and that would have been the day He was circumcised according to Jewish law at the time. "I'm a new Catholic, so I don't know about all of this," Kyle said. "Are we supposed to believe Jesus was circumcised?" "It's not a major dogma, or anything like that, but he was Jewish, Kyle. He must have been circumcised," Jerry said. "Damn. I never thought about that," Kyle said. "I think about dicks a good bit, but I've never thought about Jesus' dick before." That time Jerry did fall out of his chair laughing, but he caught himself before he hit the ground. If he had fallen, none of us would have been able to help him up because we were all weak with laughter, too. * * * "I had a great time," Curt said as we were driving home on Monday. "Those guys are incredible." "I can't agree more, but you're pretty incredible yourself, Babe," I said. "If I am, then so are you. It takes one to know one," he said. |