Jimbo - 7. The Envelope is Opened

“Jimbo, you had a phone call and this man is expecting you to call him back.”

Mother handed me a slip of paper with a name and telephone number.

“What time did he call?”

“I guess it was right after ya’ll went back into the fields after lunch. Ya’ll were working and I decided this could wait.”

I looked at the paper in my hand. A Mr. Cohen had called me. I did not recognize the telephone area code. I figured it had been about four hours since he called.

“It is dinner time, young man, any telephone calls can wait until after we have eaten.” My father was adamant that meals be on time and that we were all present and accounted for. We sat at the table and my father started the grace. Again, my father prayed to Jesus. I respected that this was my father’s house and didn’t say a word about his behavior. Mason sat respectfully during the meal. My mother cooked pork at least every other day. Friday dinner had turned into seafood feast with lots of shell fish. They were not subtle at all.

We were both fidgeting during the meal and as soon as we finished eating, I asked that we be excused. My father agreed but warned me about running up outrageous telephone bills calling some lawyer. I was offended but decided that in about a week I would be leaving for college and to keep the peace until then. We were expecting Mason’s parents any day so he would be free from the Jesus culture that had consumed the house. My parents had forced me to go to church with them on Sunday leaving Mason alone at the house.

I grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and went to the telephone. I called the number and talked to someone from an answering service. The woman on the other end of the phone was taking the message and as soon as I said my name, she said to hold on that she was putting me through. Mason had his ear close to mine so he could hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

“Mr. Ward, thank you for returning my call.”

“Certainly sir, how may I help you?”

“Is Mason there with you?”

“Yes sir, he is.”

“Is it possible for the two of you to meet me in Norfolk tomorrow?”

“Well sir, it is just near harvest season and this isn’t the best time.”

“I know that Mr. Ward, but this concerns Mr. and Mrs. Jenner and it is imperative that I meet with you as soon as possible.”

I caught my breath and looked at Mason. He had heard part of the conversation and I saw tears forming in his eyes. He put his hand on my thigh and gave me a pleading look.

“Of course, sir. We will be there if I can borrow a truck from my father.”

“If your father will not loan you a vehicle, I will send a car for you. Call me back anytime and I will make arrangements. I will fly to Norfolk tonight.”

He gave me the address of a law firm in downtown Norfolk and we agreed on a time.

“One more thing, Mr. Ward. I need for you to bring the letter Mr. Jenner gave you. I trust that you still have it.”

“Yes sir, I still have it. Should I open it before we arrive tomorrow?”

“There is no need. In fact, I prefer that you didn’t. We will open it together and review the contents.”

“Sir, I then assume this is an emergency.”

“Mr. Ward, events have happened that I need to make you and Mason aware of. That is all I can tell you tonight. I will reveal more tomorrow.”

I hung up the telephone. Mason and I put our foreheads together. I whispered to Mason that I loved him. He was crying and told me that he loved me also. I sent Mason upstairs to his bedroom and I went into the den.

“What did that lawyer want?”

“Mr. Cohen needs for Mason and me to go to Norfolk tomorrow afternoon.”

“We have work to be done. You don’t just get to take off during farm season. I let you go to the summer camp this year when you should have been here working. Whatever he has to say can wait until you head off to that university.”

“No sir, we have to go to Norfolk tomorrow. Something has happened to Mason’s parents. I would like to take one of the farm trucks.”

There was silence in the room. My parents exchanged looks.

“We are a working farm. We don’t have vehicles for someone to just take to town when they have some funny business.” My mother coughed. She and my father exchanged looks again. Finally, he said that we had to put in a half day of work and could then take the truck to Norfolk but I would have to put gas in it.

I thanked my father and said that I would make sure the vehicle was filled with gas when we returned from town.

I went upstairs and went into Mason’s bedroom. I hugged him and told him that we would figure it out tomorrow. Tears were flooding down his face.

My father called up the stairs and said it was bedtime. He then said that I needed to go to my bedroom because he wasn’t having any sodomy in his house. He ended by saying that we needed to get up extra early to start in the fields. He then added that since we were taking time off during the week that we would have to work Saturday morning.

I felt raging anger toward my father at that moment but I knew that I had to protect Mason and fighting with my father was not prudent but might become necessary before his parents returned from Paris.

“Yes father, I am heading to my own bed and I will set the alarm for 5 a.m. We will be ready to work at 5:30 in the morning.”

When I walked out of Mason’s room my father was standing at the bottom of the stairs. He watched me walk into my bedroom and close the door.

He shouted out, “Don’t you boys think about doing anything funny during the night. This is not a house of sin.”

Both of us were up early, brushed our teeth and headed downstairs for breakfast. My mother had gotten up and fixed us breakfast. She seemed shy. She told Mason that she hoped his parents were alright. She put sausage biscuits on the table. Mason drank his juice and sipped his coffee. It seemed that there would be nothing for him to eat. My mother somewhat awkwardly and quietly said that she had used turkey sausage so he could eat them. Mason grabbed two of the biscuits and thanked my mother. We put our biscuits in a paper napkin and walked onto the back porch. It was going to be a beautiful but hot August day.

My father split us up with Mason working in the east field with him and I was sent to the back field next to the pig pen. There was nothing quite like the smell of a pig pen in late August when the nighttime temperatures never got below 80 degrees. I had to concentrate so I didn’t throw up. I kept repeating my mantra of ‘this too shall pass.’ Soon I would be in college and Mason would be back in high school. We had been making plans for how we would get together on weekends and holidays. It was the best we could do. I had been accepted at Virginia Tech which was a good 250 miles from Mason. I had saved money from my summer work but I was still relatively poor. I couldn’t afford to buy a vehicle, at least not one that was reliable to do that drive on a regular basis.

At last, I heard the lunch bell sound. The old farm bell was in the back yard. It was mounted on a 6x6 post and had a rope long enough for my mother to be able to reach it and pull. It could be heard across the farm. There was no need to have a watch. I wiped the sweat and grime from my face. I pulled my pud from my shorts and pissed in the weeds. I gathered up my tools and trudged toward the house. I knew we would not have time to eat, get cleaned up and dressed, and then get on the road. My guess was there wasn’t enough gas in the truck to get us to Norfolk. My father never put more than a quarter tank of gas in the vehicle. He thought it was a waste of good money to fill a vehicle with gas.

My mother and father were sitting at the table. “Sit down boy and have some lunch that your mother has cooked.” I looked around for Mason.

“We don’t have time mother, I should have told you not to fix lunch for us.”

“It don’t matter whether or not you thought to tell her. She has been cooking food all morning and you will sit down and eat. Do I make myself clear?”

I sat and started to quickly eat the lunch. My mother cooked a hot lunch every day and I was thankful she was such a good cook.

“Slow down, boy. That lawyer will wait for you. I suppose the Jenners are his clients and they pay him well. I am sure they have lots of money.”

I did not reply. I shoved the food into my mouth. Just as I was finishing, Mason stepped into the kitchen. He was dressed in a black suit. At that moment, my father declared lunch was over and told mother to clear the table.

“I’m right sorry that you didn’t get any lunch boy but we have specific meal times and I have to go back to work.”

Mason didn’t say anything but turned and walked back upstairs. I ran up behind him. I was still covered in dirt and didn’t want to mess up his clothes so I leaned over and quickly kissed him.

“Give me ten minutes and I will be ready.”

Mason went into my bedroom and pulled out clothes for me to wear. Ten minutes later we walked into the kitchen where my parents sat eating pie. I told them we were off. I then told my mother not to cook dinner for us because I didn’t know what time we would get back.

“You gonna waste your money on some restaurant, are you? It seems that you have become fine and mighty recently. Waste your money if you like. That means you will have less this fall when you go off to the university. I won’t have any extra money when you come home crying because you are hungry.”

We ran to the old farm truck and got in. The keys were already in the ignition. That was a good thing about growing up on a farm. You could always leave keys in vehicles and no one would bother with them. I don’t think my parents knew where the keys were to the house. Again, there was no need.

As expected, the truck was sitting on empty. We got to Red’s service station at the crossroads and I filled it with gas. Mason and I had removed our jackets because it was so hot in the truck. My father did not have air conditioning in the farm trucks. Both windows were rolled down which meant it was challenging to talk and be heard. We barreled along 58 east through Suffolk and then headed to Portsmouth to pick up the downtown tunnel and we were then in downtown Norfolk. Mason was my navigator as I wasn’t very familiar with this part of the world. We found a parking garage and I was concerned about the cost of parking. I hated being cheap but I really didn’t have much money for extras like paid parking.

We found the office tower and took it to the right floor. The walls were covered in mahogany paneling and the carpet was thick under our shoes. Modern art work was hanging on the walls. It all looked expensive. It was also very quiet. It was worse than a library. We walked over to the receptionist and I told her our names. Her eyes widened and she picked up the telephone. She whispered something that I could not hear. She quietly was telling us that someone would be right with us when a young man walked up. He introduced himself as Ayal Potok. Mason’s eyes grew big when the handsome fellow introduced himself.

We were led to a conference room and Ayal asked if we would like something to drink. We were both dying of thirst and asked for water. When Ayal left the room, Mason told me that Ayal translated as deer. I didn’t believe in coincidences. Ayal returned with a tray that held glasses, ice and a tall pitcher of water. He poured some for us and said that Mr. Cohen would be with us directly. Ayal then sat and opened a portfolio which had pads of paper.

Mr. Cohen filled the doorway to the conference room. He entered and introduced himself. I felt under-dressed as I wore my khaki’s and navy-blue blazer. This was my best outfit of clothes. Mr. Cohen and Ayal were both dressed in charcoal grey suits. They looked expensive. Their shoes were highly polished. Their neck ties probably cost as much as my whole outfit. I was getting very uncomfortable.

“I would like to thank you both for driving in today. Did you have any problems finding the office?”

We both shook our heads. Mason’s hand was on my thigh and I could feel him trembling. I grabbed his hand in mine and placed it on top of the table. Our rings were very evident. I thought there should be no confusion about our relationship. Mr. Cohen paused and looked at us. He gazed into Mason’s eyes and Mason stared back at him. Mr. Cohen then nodded his head.

“Mr. Ward did you bring the envelope?”

“Yes, and please call me Jimbo.” I took the envelope from my coat pocket and slid it across the table. Mr. Cohen looked down and thanked me for bringing it. He did not open the envelope as I had expected him to do. Instead, he picked up some papers and reviewed them very quickly.

“Mason, your parents send you much love. Jimbo, they send you their love also. They are in Europe and they want you to know they are safe.”

I was perplexed by the word safe. I would have expected they were well or delayed because of unfinished business but not the word safe.

“So gentlemen, some things are moving very quickly and I will tell you what I know at this time. Mr. and Mrs. Jenner will not be returning to the U.S. at the time they had planned. I wish that I could give you a time frame for their return but unfortunately I cannot.”

“What do you mean you don’t know when they will return?” Mason was practically out of his chair at that time. “Where are my parents and what is going on?”

“As I said, I don’t have a time frame because events are happening so fast. They will call you as soon as they are able. Hopefully, this week. They are safe, Matan.”

Mason tensed and sat up straight, his eyes were wide and his mouth was open. “What did you call me?”

“Did I get it wrong? I believe your name is Matan. Your parents call you Mason. It is important that you continue to use the name Mason in this part of the world but in these private meetings I prefer to use your Jewish name.” Mr. Cohen looked at me, “You see, the name Matan means gift, and our Matan is a gift to many people. Not just you, Mr. Ward.”

We sat in stunned silence. I was still holding onto Mason’s hand but I was trembling. We were trying to steady each other.

“Ayal, would you mind taking Matan to my office and share the documents I gave you earlier? I will buzz you when I need for you to return.”

Ayal stood and asked Mason to go with him.

Mason turned to me and whispered in my ear, “Remember your Whitman.”

I nodded my head. He stood and followed Ayal.

The door closed. Mr. Cohen let out a sigh.

“Will you please tell me what is going on?”

“Yes, Mr. Ward. I must confess that I do not like the name Jimbo and we will identify a more appropriate name for you. Perhaps Yonatan. You probably know it is a Jonathan, the special friend of King David.”

I didn’t need another name. I didn’t want another name. Who were ‘we’ who would identify a more appropriate name?

“I am going to tell you some things that are important for you to know. Please do not interrupt me but I promise to give you all the time you need to ask questions when I am finished. There is something that I must share with you right now because it may impact your ability to accept what I am going to say. This afternoon your father went to Red’s gas station and told people that ‘his son has had to take the Jew boy to Norfolk to meet with some Jew lawyer’. He said he didn’t know what had happened to you but you were ‘clearly under the spell of some Hebrews’. Your father has now returned home. I am thinking that you will not receive the warmest reception when you go back to your parent’s home. We are charged with Matan’s safety but given that you are his partner we will protect you also.”

I heard the words but my mind was racing to process what I was hearing.

“You are scheduled to attend Virginia Tech university this fall. I have taken the liberty to notify them that you will not be attending.”

I practically came out of my chair. My eyes were blazing.

“As I said, let me finish and then you can ask questions. You will attend the College of William and Mary. We have arranged your admission. You had a scholarship to Virginia Tech. You will have a full scholarship at William and Mary. You will major in international studies. We have arranged with them that you will take Hebrew as your foreign language. You will be tutored by a rabbi in Newport News as Hebrew is not on their curricula. They have agreed. Next year you will start studying Russian. One language at a time is enough to start don’t you think. I don’t know if Matan has told you that he is fluent in Hebrew, Polish, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, and French. He can help his guardian to learn these languages (he smiled as he said this). You will need them when you transfer to Harvard. You will finish your undergraduate studies there while Matan takes courses in art history. He is gifted in the arts but we need for him to focus on the history of art. He will still get to paint and draw but those will be sidelines for him. He may even become famous for his paintings and that will only burnish his reputation as a world class art historian.”

I sat in stunned silence and thought the guy was a complete whack job.

“After you graduate with honors from the Harvard undergraduate program, you will attend Harvard law where you will focus on international law. Please don’t shake your head Yonatan because this has already been decided. It is important for you to do this to support not only Matan but Mr. and Mrs. Jenner in their life’s work. After you graduate with a law degree from Harvard, you and Matan will move to the Hague. It is a beautiful city. Have you ever been there? I can promise that it is nothing like Emporia. Did I get the name correct? The little town near where your parents live?”

I could only nod my head. I had no words.

“Of course, you will need to sit for the bar exam after completing law school. I suggest you sit for the bar in Massachusetts, New York and Washington, DC. You will need time to prepare, so we have arranged a position for you with a New York firm. You will be on their payroll as a junior associate but all of your time, and I mean all of your time, will be spent studying and taking the examinations. Luckily, you will only have to take the part on U.S. constitutional law once, but will have to take the other parts as required for each jurisdiction. I have planned for no more than one year for you to complete this part of your career. Matan will have an internship at the Metropolitan Museum during the time you live in New York City. By the way, the New York apartment is nice but I am jealous of the apartment in the Hague where you will live. It is considered world class housing and the décor is admired by everyone who has been inside. You will enjoy entertaining people in the apartment. Matan will find the art work up to his standards.”

I could see the man was enjoying watching me as he laid out the next few years my life.

“Over time, we will have meetings where the particulars are reviewed in much greater detail. Why don’t we stop there and you ask me questions?”

“Suppose I say ‘no’?”

Mr. Cohen gave a big sigh.

“That is a good question. If you say ‘no’ then I need for you to stand up, walk out of the door, and this conversation never happened.”

“I need to get Mason.”

“Ahh, you don’t understand Mr. Ward. If you say ‘no’ then you will never see Matan again. There are security guards to escort you from this building. You will never hear from me again. The Jenners will never contact you. We can reverse the Virginia Tech decision and you can start there as a freshman. Then you can go back to Southampton County and take over your father’s farm when he dies. I will be disappointed because I thought you were of stronger stuff than to say ‘no’ to the man you love. Matan will be heart broken. He will go to Europe to join his parents and will probably never return to the United States. You see, Yonatan, your decision not only affects you but will seriously impact Matan.”

What was happening? I wanted to awaken from the dream. Where was Mason, I needed to see him.

“I need to talk with Mason.”

“Of course, if you agree to the plan. If you do not agree, then I cannot subject Matan to an emotional scene with you. You see, he is totally in love with you and it would mentally break him to know you would reject him and the needs of his family. Mr. and Mrs. Jenner have approved of you as the spouse for their son. I see the rings on your fingers. You see Yonatan, if you say ‘no’ you will never see Matan again. He will be put on a plane with me tonight and be flown back to New York and then to Europe. He will be in Paris by morning.”

The silence was crushing.

“This means that I will have to give up on my family.”

“I am sure your parent’s love you. Can they love you as a gay man who lives with his lover in their home? I think we both know the answer to that. It has been a difficult time for you and Matan while you have been there. You are very talented Yonatan. Mr. Fish has had nothing but praise for your innate leadership skills, your intuition, judgement and your empathy which will be very useful in your international law career. Mr. Higinbotham even commended your intelligence and discretion. Do you like to travel Yonatan? You and Matan will be traveling the world. You both will have world class careers. You will be accepted as a couple and honored as such. The people of Israel will be very blessed to have such talented people working on their behalf.

“But….but I am not Jewish.”

“Ahh, that is big issue but it can be fixed. Thank you for mentioning that. It is not like the old days when this sort of situation was a rarity. The Rabbi who is teaching you Hebrew is Orthodox and can help you prepare. It will be arduous. You will want to stop the process if your heart and soul are not in it. It is about more than your love for Matan. It is about your love of God. The Rabbi will prepare you for the Orthodox-Jewish Beit Din. He will be a tough task master. He will have to be. Luckily, we won’t have to do a bris.” He smiled.

“I don’t know what that is.”

He held up his fingers as if they were scissors and made a snip. I blushed that he knew that I was circumcised. What did this man not know about me?

“When you are learning Hebrew, the rabbi will also be preparing you for your meeting with the Jewish Court. Are you prepared to become a member of the Jewish faith? It would certainly make life easier for you and Matan. It is my understanding that you were not, what we would call, an observant follower of Christianity. Yes, you attended church but you had drifted away over the past two years. Would you mind telling me why?

I looked him in the eyes. “I think you already know, Mr. Cohen.”

“Well, sometimes it helps to verify that my information sources are accurate.” We looked at each other and then he sighed. “Was Mrs. Turner really that adamant that you stop going with your friend to the Presbyterian church? Did she really call you an infidel? I don’t believe you did as she directed when she told you that you were only allowed to attend the Baptist Church and that she would come pick you up on Sundays if she heard you ever went to the Presbyterian church again.”

We stared at each other.

“Was that a fair synopsis? I did leave out the part where you called her a bitch and hung up on her. I don’t like to think that a gentleman would call a woman a bitch to her face, so to speak. However, it is forgiven as you were young at the time and not trained in diplomacy. I also left out the part that you attended the Presbyterian church because of a boy named Steve. Did I get his name correct?”

We stared at each other.

“I need time to think.”

“Of course, you do. This is extremely unfair to you. And to Matan. And to your parents and the Jenners. However, as I said at the start, events are occurring as we speak that demand a certain speed. I need to go to the men’s room which will give you time to think.”

He left and I bolted from the table. I paced the room. I was standing in a corner with my eyes closed. My body was propped against the wall. If my eyes were opened, I would have been staring at the mahogany paneling. I was thinking of the first Cavafy poem that Matan and read together. Was I strong enough to say yes to the unknown? Did I believe that Matan and I were destined to be together forever? Was I a brave warrior? Did Che Sequah fly into my life for a specific purpose? If I said no then the possibilities died. There was no time to consider. This was my life and a decision had to be made. Would Matan be a fury to save us? It wasn’t up to him because he did not know what had just been disclosed to me. I had to choose between a life as a gay farmer in Southampton County whose parents disapproved of him or a partner to a man child who loved him and would fight to the end for him. He would give his life for me; I knew that with every fiber of my being. Would I do the same for him? Was I able to say yes to life with Matan?

I sensed rather than heard someone in the room. I was not ready but time was not my friend. I controlled my breathing, put on a countenance of calm, and decided that diplomacy and negotiation were needed. I turned and saw Mr. Cohen sitting at the table. When returning to my seat I looked out the window and saw the lengthening shadows. I had no idea how much time we had spent talking.

I sat and looked down at my hands.

“I have a few questions?”

Mr. Cohen nodded his head.

“Is there a cancellation clause to this contract? Does it allow cancellation from either side? What is the penalty for cancellation? To what extent, over time, will Matan and I have voice in the decisions made about our lives? Will we always be presented with a plan that is a fait accompli? Who is making these decisions? Who is paying for me to go to school? What do I tell my parents? Will I be allowed to maintain a life with them? Does Matan already know about this? How can I live with him and protect him when I don’t know who is making decisions and what those decisions are? You keep using the word ‘safe’, please define your usage of that word for me. Do we come out of this alive?” I was just getting started.

Mr. Cohen smiled and answered the questions. We had a lively discussion and more questions arose. We negotiated some of the finer points. I felt like David fighting against Goliath but slowly I realized that I was gaining respect from Mr. Cohen as we debated each point. I suggested that perhaps we should write down what we were discussing. Mr. Cohen smiled and pointed at microphones embedded in the tabletop. Everything was being recorded.

After some unknown period of time there was silence in the room. It felt like we had been talking for hours. I had nothing more to add. Mr. Cohen allowed for silence.

“More?” he asked.

“No sir, I think that covers the points for our first meeting. As additional issues arise we will then sit at this table again.”

A big smile crossed his face.

“Yonatan, I knew that you were the right person when Mr. Jenner told us of your qualities. Did you notice that you called him Matan? You are an astute negotiator. You will make a good lawyer. Matan knows very little. He is still a boy. It is not fair to him to tell a boy more than he can emotionally handle. Even a boy as smart as Matan. Don’t you agree?”

I could only nod yes. He rose from his seat and came around the table to where I was sitting. I immediately stood and he hugged me. He then kissed me on each cheek.

“It is settled. Mr. and Mrs. Jenner will be very happy. Let’s bring Matan back in and I will talk about the information in the envelope. It will be up to you to tell Matan what we have talked about. Take care with him, Yonatan. His parents are in grave danger and we need for him to be safe. It is not clear if and when they will be returning to the United States. He needs someone to help him through the next few days, months, years; someone he trusts and that person is you. I think we will need to establish regular meetings with you…perhaps bi-weekly at first, then monthly, then quarterly. There will be times that we may need to talk on a daily basis. You seem solid and grounded and I believe you can handle this.”

It was like a Gordian knot. Everything was woven together and the more strands I pulled the messier it became but the knot was always there. I was an expert in knots after all, having taught the course at Boy Scout camp. But I knew, deep down, this was nothing like the courses taught at Camp Falls. I thought of the symbology of the deer and understood that we were under a protection in the universe we did not understand. A new life was being presented to me and I was trying to bring meaning to these mysteries.

Mr. Cohen picked up his telephone and spoke to Ayal. Suddenly he was at the door with Mason. They came into the room and Mason sat beside me. He had a questioning look on his face. I kissed him on the lips and told him that everything was okay.

“It is settled, Matan, we are set.”

Mason’s eyes got even bigger.

“Let’s listen to Mr. Cohen.” I held his hand and pulled his chair closer to mine.

He opened the envelope. Mr. Cohen then said that if Mr. and Mrs. Jenner did not return to the United States within three weeks of their departure then I, James Robert Ward, was to be made legal guardian of Mason Abraham Jenner. I also had power of attorney for all business affairs and had medical power of attorney. We were to live in the Jenner’s home in Suffolk and all costs associated with the property were to be paid from a trust. When we moved to Massachusetts we would be provided a home in the Boston area. I, as guardian, was to be paid a stipend each year. Mason was to receive a weekly sum that I determined to be appropriate. Household bills such as food and cleaning were to be reimbursed. I was to be provided with a vehicle. All of my school expenses were to be paid. I had full legal assistance via Mr. Cohen and a law firm with offices in New York, Norfolk and The Hague. Mr. Cohen looked up and said that was the jist of the document.

Mason looked up and was stunned. “Does that mean my parents are not returning?”

Mr. Cohen gently said that was not the case but they were caught up in some work for the people of Israel and they did not want him to be uprooted. He further explained that they loved and trusted me to be a partner to Mason and that when he reached legal age that we were to be joined in covenant.

“But we are staying with Jimbo’s parents at the farm. What about that?”

Mr. Cohen looked me in the eyes and related that it was probably best that we return the truck to the farm. “Please ensure that it is filled with gasoline.” He smiled. “I would prefer that you move to the Suffolk house tonight. Tomorrow morning at the very latest.”

I was about to object when Mr. Cohen asked me to carefully consider his suggestion. “I believe you will find that what I have suggested is for the best. You will not receive the warmest reception when you get back to the farm tonight.”

“In the meantime, you are hungry and Ayal will take you to a restaurant called Colley Avenue. I suppose that is a street. He will know. After that he will return you to your truck to drive home. Ayal will give you a telephone number. You are to call that if there is any problem. You will need transportation from the farm to your home tonight. Ayal can arrange for that. I cannot emphasize enough that you are to call with any problem no matter how small or insignificant. I am sure you will have lots to talk about so I will leave you to it. I have a plane waiting to take me back to New York; I have to be in Paris by morning.”

Mr. Cohen stood and we walked around the table and shook his hand and said that I should expect to hear from him once we were in our home. He preferred not to intrude of my parents again by calling their home. Mr. Cohen then thanked Ayal and walked out.

We drove to a neighborhood restaurant on Colley Ave. It was bright and many people were out and about. The restaurant had lots of windows and sat on a corner so we could see all of the lights of the neighborhood. Mason and I were both surprised by the number of gay people we saw. They were everywhere. I reached over and took his hand, pulled it to my lips and kissed it. Ayal smiled and said, “Welcome to the world where you can be who you are. Mazel tov.”