This summer is a kind of strange time for me. I sort of feel like I'm out of pocket. The main thing I can really remember about summers before is boredom and looking forward to the new school year and being in the next grade. I mean, I'm going to go to college and all, but that'll be a whole new and different system for me. My dad and I moved around a couple of times, but school is basically school, whether it's in Maryland or California or Florida. College will be very different. For one thing, we'll be living in New Orleans. Brian, who is absolutely the best friend I've ever had in my life, except for Kyle, and I are going to Tulane University on full academic scholarships. That's really a big-league kind of place, and I'm worried about that. Thank God Brian's going to be at my side because I don't know if I could do it on my own. I made a lot of good friends in high school. People I really care about and who care about me. Since our graduation, though, it's like we've gone in all directions. I feel cut off, cut adrift, from everything and everybody I knew in high school. I called my friend Bob Thomas one day to see if he wanted to go to a movie. He had been vice president of the Science Club, and he and I are very good friends. He's working at a restaurant, and he couldn't go. I know Kyle would do anything with me that I wanted him to, but he has his own friends that he does stuff with. I want to do stuff with mine, too. Bob Thomas is as straight as they come, and it has nothing to do with my wanting to date him or anything like that. He's my friend, and I just want to spend some time with him. But I couldn't because he had to work. Bob suggested we meet for lunch, but I couldn't do that because I had to work. Another thing I'm noticing this summer is that my friends from school really get into the party scene after work. Most of them work in restaurants or businesses that stay open late, so I have trouble hooking up with them to go out. I'm really not interested in drinking and getting shit-faced drunk like they are, but I would like to go out with them, just to hang out. That isn't happening, though. "What's the matter, Baby?" Kyle asked me one afternoon. "I don't know. I just feel so cut off from my friends," I said. "Y'all can't seem to get together, right?" he said. "Yeah. What's this all about?" I asked. "I don't know, but it was the same for me last year. It's almost like, once you graduate, you don't have an anchor anymore. I mean, I wanted out of high school in the worst way, but once I was out, I missed it bad," he said. "I think it's normal, Tim. I think it happens to everybody." "Is this like negative senioritis, or something?" I asked. "I think it's double-negative senioritis," Kyle said. "You'll get over it, though. I did. I'm just worried about what it's going to be for us next year." "What do you mean, what it's going to be for us? It's going to be the same. We're going to be together. We're always going to be together, right?" I asked. "That's what I'm hoping and praying for, Babe, but . . . you know?" "Kyle, I'm not going anywhere, and you know that. Just like I know you're not going anywhere," I said. "I know. I'm not, but aren't you scared of the unknown?" he said. I didn't say anything right away. In a few seconds, though, I said, "I want you to hold me now. And in a few minutes, I want you to make love to me. Kyle, you're my life. If I lose you, I lose my life," I said. He threw his arms and legs around me, and he held me. Then he made love to me. I knew that night that I will never lose him. * * * Being a bellhop is basically fun, but there are times when it's pretty boring, too. One particular day we had finished all the room service calls that we had, and we had helped a few families check in or out. After that, though, there wasn't anything to do until we got a call. That's the part I hate. We have to hang out in the lobby in case somebody comes in, but there isn't anything to do but read or talk to the other bellhops. Jeff was working the desk. I heard the house phone ring, and I half listened to what he said. I could tell from listening that somebody was calling to report a loud noise. I wondered why people bother doing stuff like that, especially during the day. Loud noise that's continuous can get on your nerves, but one loud noise? During the day? "Tim, come over here, please," Jeff said. I got up to see what he wanted. "I just got a call from somebody on the sixth floor complaining about a loud noise. She said it sounded like a firecracker in the room next door. It woke up her baby, so she's pissed off. Would you go up there and see what's going on? It's room 632," he said. "Take Kyle with you." "Okay. Room 632?" I asked. "Do you want me to write it down for you?" Jeff asked, teasing me. "Very funny," I said, and he and I chuckled. Kyle was outside talking to the valet parkers, but I got him inside. "Jeff wants us to go check on a loud noise in room 632," I said. "What is it? Moaning?" he asked. "It's probably people having sex. Maybe they'll let us watch." "Maybe so, but I think it was a firecracker. That's what Jeff said the caller said," I told him. "Shit, that ain't no fun," he said. We got to the room, but we didn't hear any noise at all coming through the door. We stood there for a few seconds, and a lady stuck her head out of the room next door. "Did you come to check on the noise?" she asked. "I just called it in." "Yes, ma'am," I said. "You said you thought it was a firecracker?" "That's what it sounded like. A firecracker or a gunshot. Whoever's in there tied one on last night, and they played the TV way too loud," she said. She was definitely from Alabama. "Let's see what's going on," Kyle said, and he knocked on the door. There was no response, so he knocked again. Again, there was no response. He put his ear up to the door. "I don't hear water running, so he's not in the shower," he said. "Do you think maybe he left?" "I'm sure not," the lady said. "I would have heard him leave." "Well, he's not making any noise now, so let's just leave it be," Kyle said. "But please call if you hear the noise again, okay?" "I will, boys," the lady said. "Thanks for coming up. I'm up here with a sick child. Why does one of them always have to get sick on vacation?" "I'm sorry the child is sick," Kyle said. "Do you need anything from the drugstore? 'Cause I can get it for you, if you do." "Thanks, but we're going to take him to the walk-in clinic as soon as my husband and my other son get back," she said. "I know what it is. It's an ear infection." "How old is he?" Kyle asked. "He's two. Do you have children?" she asked. "No, ma'am, not yet. I've got a baby nephew that just turned one, though. We gave him a puppy for his birthday," Kyle said. "A puppy!? My God, that's all I would need. They're as bad as a baby to look after," she said. "She was already house broke," Kyle said. "My brother trained her." Just then the baby started crying, and the lady told us thanks. She said she had to go. In about an hour, that same nice lady on the sixth floor called in a room service order. It wasn't for food, though. She wanted to borrow a heating pad. We actually keep stuff like that on hand, so I took one up to her. She gave me a five-dollar tip, which was way more than I expected. When I was leaving, the housekeeper was just opening the door to room 632. We exchanged greetings, and I started down the hall to the elevators. All of a sudden, I heard a scream. I turned around and rushed down to 632. The door was open, so I walked in. What I saw was a horror. There was blood, and what looked like chunks of flesh or something, splattered everywhere. The housekeeping lady was still screaming. I walked around the bed, and there, on the floor, was a naked man with a lot of his head blown off. I gagged at the sight, and I almost lost my breakfast. It didn't smell bad, except that the guy had shit himself, but the sight was ghastly. "Get out of here," I said to the housekeeper. She didn't move, so I gently guided her into the hall. I went back in and called the front desk. It rang and rang and rang. Finally, "Front desk." It was Kyle's voice. "Where's Jeff?" I asked. "Iono," he said. "I think he and Justin are in the back, jerking off." "Kyle, get somebody up here to 632 right away, and call 9-1-1. The man in here shot himself in the head," I said. "Was that the noise?" he asked. "Yeah. It must have been. Now get somebody. Get Mr. Rooney," I said. "I'm coming up," Kyle said. I figured he'd want in on this. "Fine, but get a boss or somebody. Hell, get Chuck, if you can't find Rooney," I said. "Is he dead?" Kyle asked. "I think so. If he's not dead yet, he doesn't have much left in him. But, yeah, I think he's dead," I said. "Ten-four," Kyle said. "I'm on my way." It was certainly not a time to laugh, but hearing him say that the way he did made me chuckle. In about two minutes, Kyle and Chuck were at the room, both breathing hard. "You couldn't find Mr. Rooney?" I asked. "No, but I didn't look hard," Kyle said. He took out his cell phone and punched in 9-1-1. He told the dispatcher what was going on, and she must have said they'd have an ambulance and a police cruiser on their way. Then he punched in Kevin's number. "Kevin, get over here, pronto," he said. "There's a stiff in room 632." Pause. He let out a sigh of exasperation. "No, I ain't kidding. I swear to God, to Jesus, to all of 'em. On my Eagle honor. Get over here," he said. Pause. "No, but Chuck is. Do you want to talk to him?" Pause. "He wants to talk to you," he said, handing the phone to Chuck. "Hi, Kevin. He's not joking, Bubba. It's a mess. I almost puked when I saw it," Chuck said. Pause. "Yeah, he called 9-1-1, after he ran my ass up six flights of stairs. I thought I was going to need the ambulance myself for a heart attack." Pause. "Right now, it's me, Tim, and Kyle. One of the housekeepers is in the hall, in hysterics. I think a few guests might be gathering, too. I don't know. I shut the door when we came in," Chuck said. Pause. "Okay. I can handle this, Kev. You don't really need to come, unless you want to. Jack Rooney's off today, so I'm MOD," Chuck said. Pause. "Okay. See you later, Bubba," Chuck said. Then he hung up. "He ain't coming?" Kyle asked, slightly panicked. "He can't. He's got a lunch meeting or something," Chuck said. "We can handle it." "Yeah. He's got a lunch meeting, all right. To fuck Rick. That's what he's got," Kyle said. "Kyle, don't be disrespectful," Chuck said. "It's really not that big a deal for us to handle. This isn't the first time we've had a suicide in this hotel. I know what to do." "Nobody told me about any other suicides," Kyle said. Chuck put his hands on Kyle's shoulders. "Look, Kyle, calm down. You're pretty worked up right now. Take some deep breaths, okay?" Chuck said. I had never really thought of Chuck as a gentle person, but he was very gentle with Kyle. "I know. I gotta get a grip on myself," he said. Then, in a few seconds, "Okay. I'm okay now. I'll go outside and wait for the ambulance." "Good man," Chuck said. "Ask Jeff to come up here, too, would you please?" "Okay," Kyle said. I went down to the lobby with my boy. He stopped at the desk and told Jeff what was going on. Then we went outside under the covered entrance, and it was hot as hell. In just a few minutes the ambulance drove up, followed by a police car. We took them up to room 632. One of the EMT's from the ambulance checked the guy's heart with a stethoscope. Then he let the second one check him the same way. It was pretty clear the guy was dead. They had brought a body bag and a gurney with them, and they got the guy into the body bag and onto the gurney. The policemen collected up the revolver, no doubt for evidence to rule out a homicide, and they got the man's wallet, rental car papers, and some other stuff. We watched that procedure, and then they left, saying they'd take care of everything. Kyle started rummaging around on the desk. There was a laptop computer on the desk, and he sat down at that and started a search for a file. I was surprised the police hadn't taken that, too. "What are you doing?" Chuck asked. I could tell he was starting to get a little annoyed with Kyle. "I'm looking for a suicide note," Kyle said. "Oh," Jeff said. "Good thinking. We should have thought of that." Kyle ran a search by today's date, yesterday's date, and the date of the day before that. "Here it is. Day before yesterday," Kyle said. It was a Microsoft Word file, and it was definitely a letter. Kyle read it from the screen. Dear Connie, What I'm going to do has nothing to do with you or the boys. Adam and I have been lovers since our senior year of high school, only he had the balls to admit he's gay. I didn't. Please don't think I've never had any fondness for you because I have. I was, and still am, very fond of you. And, of course, I love our sons, Adam and Micah. I've checked and double checked my life insurance policy, and suicide is covered. You and the boys should be fine, financially. I know it will be hard on you and them, but they'll get over it quickly. I sincerely hope you do, too. Danny "Whoa!" Jeff said. "You hear so much about gay kids committing suicide, but evidently gay adults do it, too." "Don't you wish you knew what led up to this?" Chuck asked. "For sure, Bubba," Jeff said. "I guess we need to get this room cleaned up right away." "Gentlemen, not just yet, okay?" The voice was a man standing at the doorway. There was another man right behind him, and they both had on coats and ties. I bet they were hot outside in those outfits. "I beg your pardon," Chuck said. It turned out they were detectives. That room was a crime scene, and it had to be thoroughly investigated. We knew it was a suicide, but they didn't. It could have been a murder, and the note could have been written by somebody other than Danny. "The uniforms should have gotten this computer," one of the detectives said. "That's sloppy work." "Yeah," the other one said. "Have you guys been fooling with it?" "We did a search for a suicide note, and we found one," Kyle said. "It's on the screen." "Thanks, guys. If you don't mind, my partner and I need to go over the room, so if you'll excuse us . . . " "Let's go, guys," Chuck said, and we left. That night in the den at home, we talked about what happened that day. The four Townhouse Boys were over, and Kyle slapped together a tray of cold cuts for sandwiches. "Brian, I wish you had been there," I said. "It was sort of amazing." "I wish I had been there, too," Brian said. "I wish I had been there," Justin said. "Where the hell were you, anyway?" Kyle asked Justin. "Did you check the schedule, Kyle? Jeff and I share one job, and it was my day to work the second half of the shift. Don't get on my case, 'cause I'll have to kill you, if you do," Justin said. There was no laughter. Only silence. "Shit, that was the wrong fucking thing to say, wasn't it?" Justin said. He was so cute in the way he said that, that we all laughed. "Why is it that being gay is so hard for some people?" Kyle asked. "I think it's a matter of support, Son," Kevin said. "We all have it good. We support one another. We love one another. We understand one another. Our parents do the same thing. Hell, even our minister does. But there are a lot of guys out there who don't have what we have. I hope you boys will get active in campus organizations at your colleges that support gays and lesbians." "I guess the support really does matter. That's one reason I'm scared to death of college," Kyle said. "Here I've got a big, thick net under me, but there it's going to be mighty thin." "Kyle, what are you talking about, man?" Rick said. "You're going to have your grandparents; your brother and sister-in-law; Seth and Curt, and Seth's parents; the Smyth boys down the street. And you'll always have us." "I hadn't really thought about all that," Kyle said. "And I'll have these guys," he said, indicating us. "Exactly," Rick said. "But here, everybody knows me, and everybody knows I'm gay. They just don't seem to care. A big city's different. It's just scary to me. And a big university, like UNO. Emerald Coast is a small college. Six thousand students, if that. But UNO? That's big," Kyle said. "Kyle, you're going to do just fine," Rick said. "I hope. Of course, I'm only going to be there two years," he said. "What?!" Brian and I said in unison. "Two years at UNO. Not New Orleans. I'm staying there as long as y'all are there," he said. "What are you and Justin going to do during all those years we're in school and you're not?" I asked. "We're going to get jobs. What do you think we're going to do? Shoot pool all day?" he asked. "Well, we might do that some days." "Why don't you get a master's degree? A Ph.D., even?" Kevin asked. "Hey, that's it. I'll get two of each," Kyle said. "Shit, if I get a B.S. degree, I'm going to be lucky. That's all my daddy's got, and that's all y'all got, too, ain't it?" "Yeah," Rick said. "Kevin, I know you were teasing me, but that ain't even funny. Me? A master's degree? Shit. I want a snack" Kyle said. He came back in with a tray of crackers, it looked like. Justin popped one in his mouth. "Damn. This is very good. What is it?" Justin asked. "What does it look like? And taste like?" Kyle asked. "Saltine crackers. I don't know," Justin said. "You take Saltines and drop a little shredded cheddar cheese on top. You pop 'em in the microwave for less than a minute, till the cheese melts. Then you top 'em with peanut butter. That's all that is," Kyle said. "Well, these are good," Justin said. "You need to make these again." "Well, you could make 'em. There ain't nothing to it. It's just like I said," Kyle said. "Yeah, but you're the snack master, Kyle. You got to make the snacks," Justin said. "Shit. I guess my whole life is just spread out in front of me. I can see my obituary now. 'Snack Master Passes,'" Kyle said. We laughed. "I reckon so, Kyle. Pass me some more of those things," Justin said.
The events of the day before really bothered me. Not that we haven't had suicides in our hotels. We have those from time to time so we're pretty used to dealing with them. What bothered me was that the boys had found the suicide note. It implied that the guy had killed himself because he was gay. At this point we have seven young gay men in our care. I figure the Big Four are comfortable enough with who they are for that not to be a problem, but I wonder about Denny, Murray, and Pete. One of the things Rick and I have tried to do is to educate the boys about what it means to be homosexual. Mostly what they have all wanted to know about is sex, of course, which is natural for any adolescent, gay or straight. But there is a huge body of knowledge out there about homosexuality that has nothing to do with what's the best angle to rub the prostate and similar sex-related issues. The Internet, and specifically the World Wide Web, is a treasure trove of information, so I spent several hours that day surfing the Web for information that might be interesting and helpful to the boys in understanding their sexual orientation. I have the luxury of being able to do that without anybody getting on my case about it. "Has everybody gotten something to eat?" I asked. We were all in the den, as usual. They all said they had, and, indeed, several of us had rather impressive "snacks" in front of us. Kyle had gone to his friends' produce stand and had picked up some wonderful watermelons. We had spread newspaper on the floor and the coffee table to catch the seeds and droppings from the melons, and we were going to town on those things. The watermelons were room temperature, which, to my mind, is the only way to eat them. A lot of people like them cold, but chilling a melon makes it lose half its sweetness. "I want us to talk about the suicide yesterday some more," I said. "What's there to say?" Kyle asked. "Well, not much about the suicide itself, but I want to talk about the reason for it. That the guy was gay. That's what I picked up from the letter. He killed himself because he was gay," I said. Nobody commented. "Kyle, you asked the question last night, 'Why is it that being gay is so hard for some people?' That is one of the best questions I've heard in a long time, and it stuck in my mind all day today. Why DO some people have so much trouble accepting that they're gay? I did some research today, and I want us to talk about it because I think it's important," I said. Again, no comment. "We talked about this last night, Kevin. It's because they don't have support," Kyle said. "Yeah, but it's a lot more than that," I said. "Kyle, if you had never come out to your parents, would you have had support?" "I dunno. Probably not. They wouldn't have known, so they wouldn't have given me any special support," he said. "Guys, I did some research today on the process of coming out. Coming out has been studied by psychologists, sociologists, anthropologists, ethnographers, and a lot of other people. Scholars. College professors and researchers," I said. "For real?" Kyle asked. "He just said it, Kyle. Don't you believe Kevin?" Rick asked. "Of course I believe Kevin. I just said that because that's what I say when I'm . . . Oh, fuck you, you asshole," Kyle said. Rick had gotten him last, and we laughed. "May I continue?" I asked. "Sorry, Babe. I just couldn't resist," Rick said. "The man killed himself yesterday because he couldn't come out. Or that's what he implied, at least. So I got to wondering, What psychological and sociological processes go on when somebody comes out as being gay or lesbian? I took to the Internet, and I found some good stuff about it," I said. "What'd you find out?" Rick asked. "I found out there are a bunch of theories about it. One guy even did a research study on the relationship between coming out and the Internet. This is a big deal, guys," I said. "I guess the Internet has changed a lot of things," Brian said. "It sure was an important part of my coming out, or my being thrust out, I guess you'd say." "Yeah, we know, Bri," I said. "I came across several articles that discussed a theory by a woman, I guess, named Vivienne Cass. She wrote it up for the Journal of Homosexuality, which I had never heard of. It was back in 1979, so it's old. But even the most recent things talk about her theory, so it must still be accepted." "Vivienne sounds like a woman to me," Rick said. "Yeah, she probably is. Anyway, she said that people go through six stages of coming out, or, more precisely, adopting a homosexual identity," I said. "What does that mean? 'Adopting a homosexual identity?'" Tim asked. "A lot of people think that coming out is just announcing to everybody that you're gay. Being gay is your sexual identity, and you can't announce that to the world unless you've gone through several stages before that to get to that point," I said. "This is interesting," Denny said. "Keep on." "Well, stage one is feeling different. Did any of you guys feel different before you were aware of sex?" I asked. "I can't ever remember NOT feeling different," Tim said. "Me, either," Brian added. "The first feeling I can remember is feeling different," Justin said. "Shit, I must have been five or six years old. That's probably too young, but I really did feel different back then." "It's not too young at all, Jus. I felt different when I was five years old," I said. "Me, too," Rick said. "I haven't thought about this in years, but I really did feel different, even that young. I couldn't put it in words, exactly, but I knew I was different." Kyle didn't say anything, but the look on his face let me know he had felt different, too. "Phase two is a feeling of confusion and fear that you might not be like everybody else. Like the heterosexuals, that is. You might have thought, Well, maybe this is temporary. Maybe I'm bisexual. Maybe it's a phase I'm going through. Maybe I'm just attracted to this one person, but I'll get over it. This is just a crush, and it will pass," I said. "That lady got it right on target for me," Kyle said. "My crush was Philip Andrews, but I just knew he was not interested in me that way. Turns out, now, he's gay, too. Who knew?" "I had many crushes in middle school," Murray said. "And I really thought I would get over it, too." "Mine lasted throughout middle school, high school, and college, too," Rick said. My friend Jason." "We need to get Jason up here to visit us, Babe," I said. "I know. We will," Rick said. "In phase three, the person says, Yeah, I'm probably gay. But he or she isn't willing to make that public to anybody. It's kind of like personal acceptance but not public announcement," I said. "Been there," Justin said. "Me, too," Kyle agreed. "In the fourth phase, you become more comfortable accepting yourself as gay, and you're willing to tell very highly selected people. Like a brother, in my case, or a best friend, in Rick's case," I said. "Or parents, in my case," Kyle said. "Mine, too," Tim said. "Or your grandmother, in my case," Murray said. "Apparently, coming out to parents is a really big issue for a lot of people. Sometimes, the parents are the first ones people tell; sometimes they're the last ones," I said. "I guess it depends on your relationship with your parents and their general feelings about homosexuality. At any rate, though, that's the big hurdle. Parents." "Or sometimes you don't really have to tell them because they already know," Rick said. "My mom did." "My parents did, too," I said. "I don't know if mine knew or not, but they sure acted like it was the most normal thing in the world," Kyle said. "You guys didn't get kicked out, though, like I did," Brian said. "That's had an effect on me ever since." "How so, Bubba?" Rick asked. "It's made me work harder so I'd be not just accepted, but welcomed, for one thing," Brian said. "What do you mean?" Justin asked. The concern and compassion and love for Brian was dripping off his tongue. "Just what I said, Buddy. When you're rejected like I was, you can do one of two things. You can consider yourself a reject and give up, or you can fight to be number one. I chose to fight. It was a conscious choice, and I'm glad I made it," Brian said. "Whoa!" Kyle said. "How many more phases you got, Kevin, 'cause we're fixing to need to get into the ice cream pretty damn quick. This is heavy stuff." "Two more, and I'll make it quick. In phase five, people are willing to come out in public. To everybody. I think most of us have gotten to that phase," I said. "And phase six is the complete and total acceptance of yourself as gay, without any pain or complication or regret. Some of us are there, too." "I'm probably still at phase four," Denny said. "Borderline five, maybe. But you know, I'm sort of at six, too." "Denny, this is a theory. The author even says there's overlap, jumping ahead, going back. But I liked it because it kind of helped me understand my own arrival at where I am today," I said. "The other two major theories of coming out are very similar, with only minor differences." "Babe, you said some guy was researching how the Internet is involved in people coming out?" Rick asked. "Yeah. I read a proposal for a study. I didn't read the actual study itself because I don't think it's been done yet. But it stands to reason to me that the websites and stories and chatrooms and emails and instant messaging are all making it easier for people to come out. And they seem to be doing it younger and younger," I said. "The experts are saying that's a good thing because it's giving gay kids a longer time to go through the normal developmental pattern that straight kids go through in forming relationships. I had my first gay relationship when I was twenty-one years old. Some of you all were fourteen." "Who was it?" Justin asked. "It was me, asshole, and he was my first one, too," Rick said. "I knew that, Jus," Kyle said. "I knew it, too, Kyle. Shut up," Justin said, and we all laughed. "But aren't they exposing themselves to more opportunities for harassment by coming out so young?" Rick asked. "I'm sure in some cases they are, Babe, but the opposite might be true, too. I mean, if you have 200 out kids in a school of 2,000, won't the bullies be more reluctant to pick on them than if there are, say, five out kids in the school? Isn't there strength in numbers?" I asked. "That's the way it was at Beachside when I was there," Kyle said. "It ain't cool to be a homophobe at that place. At the college, it ain't even an issue. Look at me and Beta Rho. I mean, I was fully out, and they sought me out to join. I hadn't even signed up for rush, but they didn't care. Those boys all knew me, or knew of me, and they still came after me to join. And not a one of them had a problem coming over here for parties. I think things are changing for us. I really do. "Kevin, I didn't think this discussion tonight was going to interest me in the least, but it did, Bubba. Thank you. I never knew people do research on stuff like this, and it was damn interesting. I reckon I'm going to have to spend me a little bit more time on the Internet, learning about myself." "Guys, one of the themes in all the stuff I read is that straight kids don't have to come out. Everybody assumes that a person is straight, and society has a whole set of expectations for straight kids that they just fall in line with naturally. I can remember going to parties in high school and college, and seeing straight couples making out. I even saw some have orgasms, right there in front of everybody. I never saw two guys making out, even though I know there were some gay couples at those things," I said. "Maybe the gay guys had more self-respect than the straight couples," Justin said. "Maybe so, Buddy, but they might also have been afraid," Brian said. "You and I don't make out at parties. We're making progress, but I'm not sure we're that far along around here yet." "True," Kyle said. There was a lull in the conversation. "Where's the ice cream?" Justin demanded. "I reckon it's in the freezer. That's where it was the last time I saw it," Kyle said. "Well, get your ass in there and get it out here," Justin said. "My ass? What's wrong with your ass?" Kyle asked. "You're the snack master," Justin said. "Yeah, but you're the snack slave. Let's go," Kyle said. We had our usual huge bowls of ice cream, with all the trimmings. Nobody got an upright banana that night, but I think we all felt good. "Kevin, those studies are good to know about, Bubba. That lady you told us about nailed me, that's for sure. It was like she was reading my life. Is there any way you can type up a little page of notes on this for us to have. I'm telling you what. Five or six guys have wanted to talk to me because they think they might be gay. If I had known any of this, I sure could have made 'em feel better. "I know a lot of people don't think being gay is normal, but it is normal. For gay people. And there's a normal process you go through, and we pretty much proved tonight that it's the same, or more or less the same, for all of us," Kyle said. "I'll be happy to write that up, Kyle," I said. "And you're right. It is pretty much the same for all of us. It takes longer for some than it does for others, but the sequence is pretty much the same. Having gay friends is important, too, to self-acceptance. I know you have a lot of straight friends, but you have a lot of gay friends, too. That's one place where the Internet can play a big part. Think about guys in rural areas or real small towns, where there just aren't a lot of gays. They're there, of course, but there just aren't that many because there aren't that many people. And they're probably reluctant to come out. An individual guy might just not know any gay people in his hometown. But now that the whole world can be everybody's hometown through the Internet, it's possible for anybody to have gay friends. And lots of them." "I probably need to spend more time on line," Kyle said. "I could probably be helping some boys with that." "But that's not really you, Babe," Tim said. "Your thing is face-to-face. Brian, Jeff, and I are more the Internet types. Just keep being yourself, Kyle. You're doing good in ways you don't even know." "I don't see myself as an apostle of gaydom," Kyle said. "I just see myself as an ordinary guy." "Exactly," I said. |