Chronicles Of An Academic Predator - 27. Chapter 27

December 23, 1962

 

 

I slept in. I was exhausted from the last few days, and the emotional toll they had taken on me, and since there wasn't a whole lot I could do today anyway, I figured I might as well rest up. So by the time I rolled out of bed, showered, coiffed my hair, and got dressed, it was pushing noon.

 

Jason was already up. He'd taken some of his work, a paper he was doing, and set up camp in the kitchen. That was a pretty bold move, since the kitchen was Vella's turf, but they both seemed to be doing their own thing, each oblivious to the other.

 

“Morning,” I said as I walked in. They both looked at me disapprovingly. “OK, good afternoon.” That got a smile from both of them.

 

“Vella, I can't believe you let this boy hang out in your kitchen and spread his papers all over your table like that.” Jason looked up, alarmed that he might have offended her.

 

“He needs to be close to the food since he's eating all the time, and his legs are tired from chasing that Vivienne around last night.” We both laughed at that, as did Jason when he realized she was joking. He was an amazing chameleon, able to blend in wherever you dropped him.

 

I wolfed down some food and set off in search of my parents. To my surprise, Tonto was here. I greeted them all.

 

My mother looked horrible. She'd had a busy night, and obviously had spent a great deal of time crying.

 

“Do you feel up to talking about the arrangements for Andre's funeral?” Tonto asked delicately. She was the only one bold enough to raise the issue.

 

“I think that would be a good idea. It's a rotten time of the year to have to plan something like this.” I was trying to be very businesslike. I figured that would make it easier. I was hoping at least.

 

“Jason contacted the military and his,” my father hesitated, “his body will arrive in Columbus the day after Christmas. We were thinking that we could have the funeral on the 27^th or 28^th.”

 

He waited for my nod, and then continued. “Tonto has agreed to work with the church, your mother is going to handle catering, and we were hoping you could decide what kind of service you wanted, and where you wanted his grave to be.”

 

“I don't want anything overly religious,” I said. “The one thing I want is to find some acoustical guitarists to play that song by the Kingston Trio. “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” Andre liked it, and I think it's appropriate, if depressing.” Tonto was making frantic notes. She was golden at a time like this. No wonder she was here.

 

“I considered Andre to be part of the family, so I want him buried in our plot.” The three of them looked at me funny, not entirely convinced. The Cramptons had a hill in the local cemetery where generations of relatives were buried. There was still plenty of space, but a traditionalist would consider it hallowed family ground.

 

“I'm not sure that's appropriate,” said my father, despite a warning glare from Tonto.

 

“If he isn't there, I won't be there.” I said stubbornly, and shocked them all, especially my mother. I could see my father growing irritated.

 

“That's not a very civilized way to have a discussion, to throw out ultimatums like that,” my father said.

 

“I'm sorry Dad; my social skills are a little off when it comes to this. That's just how I feel.”

 

“The family plot is reserved for Cramptons and their spouses. We've never had anyone else buried there.” My father hadn't been as close to Andre as the rest of us.

 

“Well just because it hasn't been done before doesn't mean we can't do it now Jack. I always thought of Andre as part of the family anyway.” Leave it to Tonto to come to my defense. My mother said nothing, which surprised me.

 

“I'm sorry, but I just can't go for it. Can we compromise and find a plot close to the hill?” I didn't get this attitude my father was throwing out. This wasn't like him. But whatever was causing it, it was pissing me off.

 

“No way. I don't mean to be obstinate Dad, but this is important to me. I can't compromise, not on this.” I wanted Andre to be buried with me, or at least near me. I don't know why. I guess I figured we could decompose together. I usually didn't worry about the afterlife, or death, but it seemed to be important right now.

 

“Well it's important to me too.” He said.

 

I'd reached a wall. I knew I should go around it, but I didn't want to. I knew I could climb it, but I didn't have the strength. On top of that, the reality of what we were talking about, where Andre's dead fragmented body would finally rest was surging up inside of me. The only solution was retreat. I got up.

 

“I can't deal with this right now,” I said, and made to leave the room.

 

“JP, you just can't lay down a totally untenable position and then walk away.” What was with my father? Why was he doing this? I felt reserves snapping inside of me.

 

“Dad, when mom dies, do you want her to be buried on the hill with you?”

 

He scowled at me. “Of course I do. But that's different. She's my wife.”

 

I stared straight into his eyes. “You don't understand Dad. It's not different. It's exactly the same.” My mother turned to me, shocked. My father's mouth hit the floor. And Tonto had that expression on her face, the one that said, “Uh oh, here we go.”

 

I thought about all the years I had hidden my sexuality from them. I thought back to that time this spring at dinner, where I felt like such a fraud, thinking that if they knew the real me they wouldn't even want me in their house. I'd guarded my secret carefully, carrying my stigma inside. All that work to make sure I didn't disappoint them, all that repression just to make sure they'd still love me, and in one errant moment, I had wasted all that effort. I'd come out to them, told them I was queer, and I'd done it because I wanted to be buried next to my partner. I must be possessed; some madness had seized control of my body. How unlike me to make such a monumental decision on a whim.

 

As I walked through the house I paused to listen, and I heard yelling, a rarity in our house. I heard my father say the word “faggot” loudly, and then I heard the sound of skin on skin, someone getting slapped. I locked myself in my room and wished I'd listened to my instincts last night when we were driving up the hill. Normally at times like this, times when I've really fucked up, times when I've caused myself or others pain, I escape into my room, or some private space, and allow my emotions free reign. I let them work through my body, wrack me to pieces, then I pull myself together and face the world.

       

But this time there were no tears. There was no sadness. There wasn't even any regret. All I felt was relief.

 

There was a knock on the door, and I opened it, glad to find it was only Jason.

 

“Wow, you sure set the house on fire.” he said.

 

“They still in there yelling?” I asked.

 

“No, they didn't yell much, especially after your aunt slapped your dad. I don't think they're handling it very well though. Even Vella seemed pretty disturbed.” Jason was like my spy, my informant.

 

“Thanks for the info Jason. I need to get out of here for awhile. You want to stay here and spy for me, or you want to come with me?”

 

He smiled at me. “You go do what you gotta do. Besides, Vivienne might come over and see me later.” The smile turned to a grin.

 

“OK, well I'll check back with you later. If you need me, I'll probably end up at Tonto's.”

 

I grabbed my coat and my keys and strolled out the back through the sliding door. I walked past the living room on the way to the garage and saw them still talking animatedly.

 

The Corvette turned over noisily, part of its charm, and I ripped out of the garage, and then hit it, laying a little scratch, out of the driveway. Through the rear view mirror I could see my mother on the porch trying to stop me. I thought cynically that if she wanted me to be there, she would have said something to defend me.

 

As I drove down Skyline, I thought about her reaction. It was the strangest of all. It wasn't like her not to step in and smooth over disagreements like the one I'd just had with my father. And it wasn't like her to leave me to my own devices when she could clearly see I was having difficulties. She understood me so well. Why didn't she at least help me retreat when I tried to leave? Either she was as disgusted with me as my father was, or there was something I was missing.

 

I wanted Jeff, but I didn't know where he was, and after what I did, he may not want to be around me anyway. Being around a fag would just make everyone think he was a fag too, and he couldn't handle that even if he wanted to. I chuckled to myself. By dancing out of the closet I'd made it even harder for the guy I love to be with me. Now that I did regret.

 

I forced myself to think logically. This would not go beyond the family. No way would any of those people want that kind of shame to damage the family reputation. Vella was probably even more trustworthy than the rest of them, even if she was disgusted with me. No, the secret was out, but it was contained.

 

I found myself at the monstrosity, going to see the only person who could probably truly understand my dilemma. I strolled through the kitchen, into the living room. I paused to gaze at the paintings of Steve and Billy. I needed to visit Billy. We both needed a shoulder to lean on. I mounted the stairs and as I got close to Stefan's room I heard noises, the distinctive noises of sex. Stefan is such a little slut. I smiled to myself.

 

The smart thing to do was just leave, but I couldn't resist. I pushed the door open slightly, just a bit to see what was going on. I peeked through the crack and Stefan was on his knees with his head on the bed, moaning like crazy. As I opened the door further I saw a body slamming into his ass. Whoever was fucking him was really slamming him hard. I felt my dick harden. Then I pushed the door all the way open and saw who was fucking Stefan. It was Jeff. They both saw me standing in the doorway, and the horror of me catching Jeff caused him to pull out of Stefan, leaving him staring at me with his beautiful hard dick poking straight at me. Stefan looked over to me with a smile, as if to invite me to join them, but seeing my expression he got a very worried look on his face.

 

I turned from the scene and briskly walked toward the stairs. I heard Jeff yell “JP! Wait! JP!” but that only made me move faster. I literally ran down the stairs and out of the monstrosity, got into my car, and sped away from there as fast as I could.

 

All his fine words about being faithful to Carol, all the guilt thrown at me over Andre, and here he is fucking Stefan. How long had that been going on? How many times had he messed around with Stefan? Did Jeff have feelings for him? Did he have any feelings at all?

 

I wondered if Stefan knew about Jeff and me. He probably did now. Ironically I was willing to cut him some slack. I knew he was a slut, and who could resist Jeff? He was tall, strong, gorgeous, and oozed masculinity. No, this was Jeff's burden to bear. Or was it? I didn't have a formal claim on him. If anyone should be pissed, it was Carol. No, I couldn't blame him for that. The only things I could be mad at him for were the lies and guilt.

 

But that's not entirely true either. If he loved me like he said, then the only thing holding him back was Carol. I understood that, but if she was so important to him, why was he fucking Stefan? She obviously wasn't. So why did he carry on this facade, this act, and not commit to me? Why? God knows I needed him now more than ever.

 

In the end, I decided that I couldn't be as mad at him as I wanted. I just didn't feel like it. No, I was going to shrug this off. Let him fuck whoever he wanted. I'd do the same. It was time to give up on love. It was time to focus on my work, and if I needed physical release, I'd get it. It would be meaningless, fun, and safe, at least emotionally.

 

I felt different after that decision. I felt stronger, fortified. If I didn't let anyone in, I wouldn't have to worry about those cracks in my shield. Every time I let someone in, they fucked me over one way or another. So no one else was going to get in. I just couldn't allow myself to give a shit. I couldn't care about anyone. And I certainly couldn't fall in love again. Never would I risk that again. Never.

 

I drove into the garage at home and strolled into the kitchen, ignoring Vella and Jason. My parents were still in the living room with Tonto. Guess I hadn't been gone long enough for them to disperse.

 

“JP!” my mother said loudly. “I was so worried about you!” There was a lot in that statement. At least she didn't hate me for being a fag. My father's expression told me that he hadn't come that far. I glared at him, daring him to say something, but he sat there quietly. I think he was more afraid of Tonto than me.

 

“I've made a decision about Andre,” I said. My father made a move to talk but I held my hand in a gesture that told him to shut up and let me finish. “I'm going to have him cremated.” I glared at all of them, daring them to defy me. They seem more intrigued by my strength than my announcement.

 

“Tonto, I'd appreciate it if you could organize some sort of memorial service. Can you do that for me?”

She smiled at me. “Of course JP.”

 

“Excellent. Then it's settled. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to try and get some work done so my Christmas break isn't a total waste of time.” They watched me walk away, no one saying anything. Let them. Let them try. I'd flay any single one of them alive. Not caring about anyone was liberating. Not caring about anyone gave me strength.

 

About half an hour later there was a knock at my door. “Come in,” I said, and not in a pleasant way. It was Tonto. She came over to me and pulled me out of my chair, giving me a big hug.

 

“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked with an uncharacteristic gentleness. I smiled at her.

 

“Sure Tonto. I always have time for you.” I pulled up a chair for her.

 

“Well that was quite a bombshell you dropped on us,” she said with a Cheshire grin.

 

“Yeah I know. I guess I just got tired of hiding who I really am, of trying to be someone else just so people would love me. It's very liberating actually, and I honestly don't give a shit if my parents disown me.”

 

“JP, I know you don't really mean that. Your mother was shocked. Her reaction was actually strange. She didn't seem upset that you're a, uh, homosexual, though. Now you're father, that's a different matter.” She looked at me somberly.

 

“I heard you slapped him,” I said with a grin.

       

“Well, you know how I hate intolerance. I hate it the most when I catch it in myself. Give him some time JP. He'll come around. All the things you've had to fear, well those are the same things that society has indoctrinated into him.”

 

“You'd think that his love for his own son would override those, wouldn't you?” I was bitter, and it showed.

 

“It will. Just give him time to sort it out. And remember, and this is the most important thing. This is not your problem. It's his. You're not responsible for his attitudes.” God she was enlightened.

 

“Thanks Tonto. When did you figure out I was queer?”

 

“When I caught you in a lip lock with my grandson,” she said with a laugh. “I'm so sorry about my reaction to that JP. I guess because he's so young I assumed that you had preyed on him, seduced him into becoming a homosexual as if you were a vampire inducting a new member. Took me a bit to work through that and realize how wrong I was.” She patted me knee and I smiled at her. “Plus, when I caught him having sex with his English teacher, I realized that if anyone preyed on anyone, it was him preying on you. So he and I had a long talk. His English is actually quite good now. And he told me all about you two, and how much you did for him. In his own way JP, he really does love you.”

 

“And in my own way, I love him. We've kind of evolved our relationship into a comfortable friendship, and I feel really good about that.”

 

“Well, I want you to know that I have no objection to you spending time with him. Even time alone. What the two of you do in private is your business.” This was incredible. Was she giving me the OK to fuck around with her grandson? Had this whole town gone fucking crazy?

 

“Thanks,” I mumbled uncomfortably.

 

“One more thing. I like your idea about cremation, and I had an idea that might make it even neater.” She paused, making sure she had my attention. “Remember that statue I gave you for your birthday?”

 

“Of course. It's one of the focal pieces of my condo.”

 

“Well, I was thinking that we could hire that artist to create a statue representing Andre, and use it as an urn. Then he could always be with you.”

 

I stared at her, stunned. “Tonto, that's an amazing idea. Amazing.” A big grin broke out all over my face. “I'll tell you what, how about if you talk to the artist and arrange it all, and I'll pay for it.”

 

“Bah. I'll get the artist started, and then just to piss your father off I'll figure out a way for him to pay for it.” That made us both laugh. She finally got up to leave.

 

“Take care JP. Things should be OK, but strange, here. If it gets too uncomfortable, come stay with me. You can bring your friend too, OK?”

I hugged her. “OK Tonto, and thanks.” Watching her leave, I decided that I might have to leave a small crack in my door to love some people.

 

After Andre died, my paper on Vietnam had assumed new meaning. I had to prove how shortsighted it was to get involved there. I had to show that history would repeat itself. I'd absorbed myself in my work until I was interrupted around 7pm by a knock at my door. It was my mother.

 

“JP, dinner is almost ready. Please join us.”

 

“Am I still welcome?” I asked sarcastically.

 

She got irritated. “Of course you are. Don't get an attitude. I think it is a little unreasonable for you to walk in and let out that you're a qu...homosexual and expect everyone to just shrug it off, don't you?”

 

“Actually mother, I don't. I am who I am. Why should it matter if I choose to have sex with other men instead of with women?” She sat down on the chair that Tonto had so recently occupied.

 

“You are right of course, but society doesn't work that way. Did you see what that poor young man, what was his name? James Meredith. Did you see what he had to deal with just to go to college in Mississippi? He spends every day, every class, surrounded by police just so people won't kill him for being black. That isn't fair either. But it takes time for people to change their attitudes. Is it too much to ask that you give your father some of that time to adjust his attitude? He will, you know. He loves you very much. We both do.”

 

I took her hands in mine. “Thanks mother. You're right. I'll cut him some slack, but I'm not going to put up with any crap.”

 

“That is fair. Dinner is in ten minutes.”

 

Dinner was an interesting vignette. Jason sat next to me and we chatted the whole time. My father stared at Jason. I chuckled to myself as I watched my father try to decide if Jason was my new boyfriend. My mother tried to keep things light, while Vella just gave me dirty looks which I returned in kind.

 

I decided to put my father's mind at ease. “Jason has a date tonight.” He blushed.

 

“Oh? With whom?” my mother asked.

 

“With Vivienne. We met last night and sort of hit it off,” Jason said shyly. I snickered and he punched me. My father looked relieved. Fuck him.

 

“JP,” he said to me. “Thanks for making the decision to cremate Andre. Tonto told me about the statue, and I think it's a marvelous idea.”

 

“You're welcome Dad. It seems best all around.” Did he wince when I called him Dad? I shrugged it off.

 

After dinner, Jason borrowed my car to take Vivienne out on a date, and I retired to my room to work on my project. I heard the sliding door open. I'd expected this, I just didn't know if it was Jeff, or if it was Stefan. It was Stefan.

 

“Am I intruding?” he asked.

 

“Of course not. Come on in.” He came over and sat in the same chair as Tonto and my mother.

 

“I am sorry JP. I did not know that you and Jeff were, uh, involved. I swear that if I did, I never would have seduced him.” Poor guy. He was afraid that he'd ruined our friendship all over again.

 

I leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “It's not your fault. You're just a slut.” And I smiled at him.

 

“I know. And he is so cute. But still, you should know that I came on to him pretty strong. I told him that he owed me something for helping him with his French. It wasn't easy, but who could resist me?” We laughed.

 

“Shh. No more about that. I'm not mad at you at all.” He smiled at me, his sexy smile. I looked at his lithe body and remembered how it felt, how sensually he moved, what a great lover he was. I grabbed his hand and stood him up, pulling him to me in a hug. I looked into his eyes and lowered my lips onto his, only this time with passion. He responded readily.

 

“Seems to me you promised me some physical relief?” He grinned at me and we both quickly undressed. I lay on the bed and he lay on top of me rubbing against me with a smooth precision, a precision that comes from practice. He reached for the Vaseline and greased my pole, and then he sat on it. The feeling of his ass surrounding my cock was like a homecoming. I guess I'd been the fuckee for so long lately, I'd forgotten how good it felt to be the fucker.

 

He undulated on top of me, bringing me to the edge, and then stopped. When I'd calm down a little bit, he'd squeeze his ass muscles to bring me back to the edge all over again. He smiled down at me, a smile that said it was time to cum. He began stroking his cock, gently massaging mine with his ass even though he was perfectly still, until he was close too. Then he began to move with a purpose. Just before I came, I looked up and saw Jeff standing there watching us. For some reason, that was the perfect storm. I tossed my head back and shot load after load into Stefan's greedy ass, watching Jeff stand there staring at us looking hurt or sad; I was too intoxicated with my orgasm to identify which. All I knew was that it was hurting him, just like he'd hurt me this afternoon, and that made me feel great. Stefan shot his wad all over me, and as I looked at Jeff, I wiped a glop of Stefan's cum onto my finger and ate it. There was no better way to say “fuck you” than that. He turned and left. Stefan looked concerned, but then he saw my smile and just shrugged.

 

“You watched us; I guess it is only fair that he gets to watch you.” Stefan had such a loose attitude about sex and sexuality. For him it was all about the pleasure and the fun. The emotional attachment was entirely separate. That's just how I was going to be from now on. “I would love to spend the night, but I think Tonto might worry since I snuck out. You do not mind if I go?” He seemed genuinely concerned about me.

 

“No Stefan, I'm doing just fine. Thanks for coming up to see me. You'll come back?” I winked at him.

 

“But of course,” he said, the little skank, and he put his clothes on and scampered out. I looked down at myself, at my body that was covered with his load, and decided that a shower was in order. I felt like a whole new person after sex with Stefan and a long, hot shower. I felt like all of this crap, all of the blows life was throwing at me, I felt like they were like a forge, just making me a harder type of steel.

 

My confidence was shaken just a little bit when I walked out in my towel to find Jeff waiting for me. He looked distraught. I reminded myself that if I let him in, I'd crack my shield. And when that happened, it seemed to transcend to every aspect of my life.

 

“Hi,” I said in a neutral tone.

 

“Hi. Can we talk for a little bit?” I owed him that. He spent time explaining himself to me when I asked. I should do the same.

 

“Sure Jeff,” I smiled at him. “What's on your mind?”

 

“You don't hate me?” he asked.

 

“Of course I don't hate you. We don't have any formal commitment. You are free to fuck whoever you want, and so am I.” That seemed to really disturb him.

 

“I figured you'd be really mad at me for fucking your cousin,” he said sheepishly.

 

I felt myself opening up to him. I couldn't help it. He was like kryptonite to me. “Look, I can't say it didn't bother me when I saw you with your dick up his ass.” I was purposely crass for the shock effect. “At first I thought you were being a hypocrite, telling me that you couldn't be with me because you were with Carol. And I still think that.” He nodded and hung his head low.

 

“And then I was upset because I honestly thought that your relationship with her was the only thing keeping us apart. But that relationship obviously isn't strong enough to do that, so there must be some other reason.”

 

“That's not true JP,” he said.

 

“The facts, the evidence, suggest otherwise.”

 

“So you're saying that I lost you?” he said sadly.

 

“I'm saying that you never completely had me. You could have, but you didn't want me. And that's OK. I still love you Jeff. I still need you and your friendship. I just can't afford to make a commitment to you. You're too high risk, and I'm not strong enough to handle the danger.”

 

“So you're dumping me?” he asked, and a tear fell down his face. I moved over to him and pushed him onto his back and kissed him passionately.

 

“Does that feel like I'm dumping you?” He smiled at me.

 

“Nope.”

 

“When our conversation is over,” I whispered in his ear, “I want you to make love to me. I want to feel you inside of me; I want to merge with you.” I could feel him harden underneath me. “But if I want to fuck Stefan tomorrow, I'm going to. And if you get pissed about it, that's your problem. I'm not going to put up with it.” I was sitting on his hard cock.

 

“Do you think that maybe someday we might actually try to be a couple?” he asked.

 

“I think that's a distinct possibility,” I said, and then I dropped my towel and moved my cock up to his mouth. He took it willingly into his mouth, then he pushed me off. He got up and undressed, and in what seemed like a flash he entered me carefully and made love to me. It was wonderful, it was fulfilling, but it saddened me that I didn't feel the same connection to him I did before. I know he felt it too.

 

After we had satisfied our carnal desires, he laid on top of me, resting his head on my chest while I played with his gorgeous mane of hair. The stability and strength I felt from him before were still there, I just didn't need them like I used to. Physically we were close, but emotionally there was now a gulf between us. I guess I should be saddened by it, but it's just the price I had to pay to keep my sanity.

 

“So while you were fucking Stefan, I told my parents and Tonto that I'm a fag,” I told him. He raised himself up off of me to look me in my eyes.

 

“You did what?”

 

“I told them I was a fag,” I said as if it were no big deal.

 

“Did you tell them about me, or Stefan?” he asked.

 

“You only care about yourself, is that it?” I asked him. I was teasing him but he didn't know that yet.

 

“No, that's not what I meant,” he started stammering. I just started laughing.

 

“Of course I didn't tell them about you.”

 

He rolled his eyes at me and lay back down on my chest. “Asshole,” he muttered, and I laughed harder. “So how'd they take it?”

 

“Well, my father has issues with it but at least he can stand to be in the same room with me. Tonto pretty much knew already. My mother didn't seem to be bothered by it, but she did seem weirded out about something. I just don't know what it is yet.”

 

“Are you going to tell your brother?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, I am. I owe that to him. He'll probably react like my father and not want anything to do with me. Probably won't let me near his kids. But it's the right thing to do. I think that’s a big enough circle for now, my immediate family. I think I can handle that.” He nodded. “Now if we get married someday, then I'll have to broaden the group that knows about it.” I said, and laughed.

 

“Don't laugh JP. It could happen.” Then he looked up at me with those dark blue eyes, and our lips met. I was supremely glad that he was stuck here in Claremont, 400 miles away from me. I'd reconstructed the walls around myself like the walls of a castle; I'd dug the moat and pulled up the drawbridge. And I sat in the keep feeling invulnerable. But he was like a trebuchet, or a battering ram. I knew that if he was really sincere and made a play for me, I probably wouldn't be able to say no.