Window Stories - 3. Chapter 3

I had a decent night’s sleep. I awoke around two and had to use the urinal bottle, but I managed to fall quickly back to sleep. I think talking to Colin yesterday lifted my spirit. I’ve been in this room for months without any company. Knowing that I would have a regular visitor made me feel good.

I know the staff here thinks I’m just a grumpy old man, but I’m not. For most of my life I was well-respected and had many friends. Around the school where I was counselor for twenty-eight years, I was known as Mr. Happy. I always had a big smile on my face. No matter how things were going in my life, I tried to present a friendly countenance.

But now, it is difficult to do that. How can I smile when I have been exiled to an empty and sterile nursing home room? My only visitors are my nurses and aides. Even then, they only remain a few minutes until they rush off to another room. And though I complain, I do welcome my trips to the therapy room with Jason. He’s a friendly young man, and he always treats me with respect. I complain a lot, but I think he understands it is just for show. I’m sure he’s used to it by now from the elderly patients he deals with daily.

“Good morning, Phil,’ sang out Ms. Sullivan as she entered the room. She walked over and drew back the curtains. I squinted from the brightness. She approached the bed and fluffed up my pillows. “Did you sleep well?”

‘Not too bad,” I replied. She picked up my urinal bottle and emptied it into the toilet.

She took out the daily menu and handed it to me. It never changes, so I don’t know why she bothers. I have it memorized. Occasionally, there may be a daily special, but they usually don’t look appetizing. Most of the food is bland. So many patients have problems with their blood pressure or sugar levels that they are careful not to add too much sugar, salt or spices. Just once I would enjoy a Big Mac and fries from McDonald’s. I used to hate them, but now I would give anything to eat anything other than what comes from the kitchen here.

Ms. Sullivan scurried around the room tidying it up. The night staff rarely picks up anything. The snack tray is left on the portable nightstand along with any used tissues or anything else I may leave. I asked, “How is your son? What’s his name?”

“Stanley,” she replied. She stood and looked down at me. “I’m at my wit’s end with that boy. He’s always getting in trouble at school. Yesterday, I got a call from the principal that he had left school and missed three of his classes. When I confronted him about it, he became violent. I was afraid he was going to hit me. When my husband came home, they got into a horrible argument. Stanley stormed out of the house and didn’t come home until after ten o’clock.” She started weeping. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

I asked, “How old is he?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen is a difficult age,” I told her. “As you know, I was a school counselor. I’ve dealt with every problem a young person can experience.”

She looked hopefully at me and asked, “Can you tell me what to do? I don’t want to see him end up in jail someday. That seems to be where he is headed.”

“Do you know what is bothering him?” I asked. “There is usually an underlying problem. Are you or your husband making too many demands?”

“No,” she replied as she wiped tears from her eyes. “We’ve never tried to be too demanding with any of our children. Stanley just seems to walk around with a grudge all the time.”

I asked, “Is he being bullied at school?”

She shook her head and replied, “I don’t think so. He’s never talked about it. He’s rather small for his age, but I don’t think other students pick on him. They did when he was in elementary school, but he’s never mentioned any problems in high school.”

“Perhaps someday I can talk to him,” I suggested.

“Oh, Phil,” she cried as she gripped my hand. “That would be so nice of you. Maybe I can talk him into coming to work with me one morning.”

“Of course,” I smiled. I was certain that I would never meet Stanley, but at least it made Ms. Sullivan happy for a minute. She soon left, telling me she would return with my breakfast soon.

When I returned from my therapy session with Jason, Colin was sitting in my room waiting for me to return. He gave me a wide smile when Jason pushed me into the room in my wheelchair. He jumped up and helped me into bed. “Thanks,” I said appreciatively. I looked over at Jason and introduced him to Colin. “This is Jason.” They shook hands. “Jason is known around her as Attila the Hun. His therapy sessions are brutal.”

Jason patted me on my arm, laughed and said as he left the room, “But you love me.”

Colin asked me how I was feeling. I told him how well I had slept. He gave me a puzzled look when I told him he had a lot to do with that. When he asked how, I told him I thought it was very therapeutic to finally have someone to talk to.

“You don’t get visitors?” he asked. “I thought you had a son.”

“Had,” I replied sadly. “He doesn’t want to claim me as his father.”

“Why?”

“That will be for another day,” I said. “I have to work up to it first. Before you left last night, you asked me if I had done anything with anyone besides Jerry.”

“That’s right,” he replied. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “I’m not sure I can tell it all today. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.”

Colin looked at his watch. “Well, in fact, I do,” he replied. “But I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He rose and said, “I almost forgot. I have something in my car for you. I’ll be right back.”

I closed my eyes until he returned about five minutes later. He handed me a box. “Here,” he said with a smile. It was a box from Dunkin. Inside were a dozen glazed donuts.

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed excitedly. “These used to be my favorites. I haven’t had a glazed donut in years.” He smiled as I took one out and began eating it. I offered him one, and he took it. He then reached into another bag and handed me a bottle of iced coffee.

“I was afraid if I got you a coffee, it would be cold when I got here,” he said. “These are already cold.” He popped the top off and handed it to me. For the next ten minutes we ate donuts and drank iced coffee. It was a very pleasurable moment. I don’t have that many anymore. Colin cleaned up and placed the remaining donuts on my table. He told me to enjoy them, but don’t eat them all at once.

“Now,” he insisted, “Tell me what happened after Jerry.”

I sat back and stared out the window before beginning my story. Visions of high school flashed before me. “I was twelve when I had my first encounter with Jerry. Nothing much happened between us after that. He got involved in sports, and I seldom saw him anymore, but I think I told you that yesterday.”

Colin nodded and said, “It sucks the way he dropped you.”

“No,” I insisted. “I pushed him away. My biggest fear in school was others finding out I was gay. Back then I don’t think most people didn’t even know what gay meant. We were watching a show one night, and an entertainer named Liberace was on. Have you ever heard of him?” Colin shook his head. I laughed and said, “I didn’t think you would.”

“Anyway, he was a very flamboyant piano player and singer,” I continued. “He always wore flashy clothes and talked very gay. Of course, at the time we just found it amusing. My dad made a comment to my mother that he thought Liberace was a homosexual. When my mother denied it, they got in a big argument. I soon realized that my father was talking about Liberace liked having sex with men. I knew then that I would have to hide in the closet. I was overcome with fear what he might do to me if he found out I had sex with Jerry. While they continued to argue, I got up and left the room. It seemed like my whole world had changed that night. I realized that I could never be openly gay.”

“What did you do?” asked Colin. “Did he ever find out?”

“Yes,” I replied sadly. “But he was dying. I’m not even sure he understood.” I sighed, looked out the window and added, “But that story is for another day.”

Colin said, “Tell me how you were able to have sex with another boy without him finding out.”

“It wasn’t easy,” I replied. “You have to understand one thing.” I looked over and he nodded. “I entered high school in 1960. It wasn’t like it is today. It was also a rural community. People never talked about other people’s sexuality. They talked in terms of marriage and having kids. It was just expected that a boy and girl would meet and get married someday. There wasn’t any other option. My mother always talked about how she couldn’t wait until me and my brother and sister got married and gave her grandchildren. That’s the way everyone was raised.”

“So,” I continued, “When I entered high school, boys began to show an interest in dating girls. If you made it to your junior year and weren’t dating, then something was wrong with you.”

Colin asked, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t want to date,” I replied. “I had no interest in girls. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but I was a cute boy. If my things weren’t in storage, I would show you pictures of me. Right before my freshman year, I had a growth spurt. I went from 4’8” to about 5’9” almost overnight. My mother said I was growing like a weed. The only trouble was, girls thought I was cute, and they wanted me to ask them out.”

“Did you?” asked Colin.

“No,” I answered. “Not at first. I guess I kind of went into a shell. I had never been popular, but now I was finding it harder to avoid. I was good in school, and I was the teacher’s pet in a lot of my classes. Girls were always asking me to help them with their homework. I tried really hard to avoid everyone. I didn’t have many friends. I spent a lot of time in the library during lunch so I could be by myself. I even volunteered to help the librarian stack books so it wouldn’t look so obvious what I was doing. She, of course, enjoyed my help. I even went in after school sometimes to finish what I had started.”

Colin asked, “You didn’t have any friends?”

“Not really,” I said. “I just went to school and avoided everyone. Then, I would come home and do the same thing. I would close my bedroom door and read books.” I smiled and added, “That’s how I became so smart. Reading.”

“That will do it,” remarked Colin with a laugh. “But it must have sucked, though.”

I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “I got used to it. I was lonely as hell, but at least I could guard my secret that way.” Colin sadly shook his head.

I looked out the window again and watched visions go by. “Things changed during the summer before my junior year.”

“What?”

“I was sixteen,” I said, “and I got a job working as a bag boy at a grocery store. I wanted a car, and the only way I could do it was to get a job and save some money. My dad said I could get one, but I had to be able to pay for it and buy gas.” I laughed and said, “Gas was only 31 cents a gallon.”

“Damn,” hissed Colin. “That was cheap.”

“Seemed like a lot,” I replied. “Especially since I was only making a buck twenty-five an hour.”

“$1.25?” excitedly asked Colin. “Man, how could you afford it?”

“It was good money then,” I replied. “Remember, gas was only 31 cents a gallon. Anyway, where was I?”

“You just got a job and things changed,” reminded Colin.

“Yeah, right,” I replied. “I had been working there for about three months when they hired a new kid. His name was Bobby Martin.” I sat back and watched his vision pass the window. “He was a very attractive boy. He was a little bit shorter than me. He looked a little bit like Paul McCartney of the Beatles. Do you know who he is?”

“Yeah,” replied Colin. “When my grandparents moved a few years ago, I was going through some of their old vinyl records. I remember seeing their pictures on the front covers. I thought this one guy was really cute, so I asked my grandfather who he was. He said he was Paul McCartney.”

“Bobby looked like him,” I said. “He even wore his hair in a Beatle cut. I was afraid my dad would get mad if I did, so I combed my hair back.”

Colin asked, “Why couldn’t you wear a Beatle cut?”

“A lot of people resented the Beatles,” I told him. “They thought that they were a bad influence on teenagers. My dad hated their music. He listened to country western music. If I played the Beatles or the Rolling Stones on my stereo where he could hear it, he would tell me to turn it off.”

“I can imagine what he would say about today’s music,” laughed Colin.

I replied, “He’s probably rolling over in his grave.”

“So, go on,” insisted Colin. “Tell me about Bobby.”

“He was really very handsome,” I replied dreamily. “I had a crush on him the first day he started working. If he’d have a big order, I would go over and help him bag. I just wanted to be near him.”

“Did he know you were gay?” asked Colin.

“God no,” I replied. I grinned and added, “Well, not at first.”

Colin leaned forward and said with a smile, “This is going to be good. Tell me how you two hooked up.”

“We had been working for about three weeks together,” I began. “We were always staring at each other and smiling. I was getting a feeling that he might like me. Or at least, I was hoping he liked me.”

“Did he?” asked Colin.

“Yes,” I said. “One day the manager sent us to the storeroom to get some boxes of tissue that he wanted us to build a display. We both reached for a box at the same time, and our hands touched. Bobby looked me in the eyes and wrapped his hand around mine. I couldn’t believe it. My heart felt like it was going to explode.”

I paused a moment to relive the moment. “Go on,” insisted Colin. “What happened next?”

“We held hands and just stared at each other,” I replied. “He let go and apologized. I boldly told him he didn’t have to apologize. He looked up into my eyes, and I nodded. I wanted him to know I was gay. He smiled and nodded too.”

Colin asked excitedly, “Did you kiss him?”

“No!” I replied. “It would have been too dangerous. We finished loading the boxes and went out onto the floor to build the display. Bobby asked me if I would like to go to the movies with him on Saturday.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” I frowned. “But there was a catch.”

“What?”

“He wanted me to double date with him and his girlfriend.”

“What?” shrieked Colin. “His girlfriend? I thought he was gay?”

“He was,” I replied. “But like me, he didn’t want anyone to know. So, he was dating a girl named Susie. They had been dating for a few months. He told me that Susie had a girlfriend named Nancy. He would set me up on a date with her, and we could go to the movies. We saw this scary movie called, The Brain That Wouldn’t Die.”

“I remember watching that when I was a kid,” laughed Colin. “But it must have sucked having to double date.”

“It was okay,” I replied. “At least I was with Bobby. We went to a local restaurant in town and had burgers. Then we walked down the street to the theater. He managed for us to sit next to each other. As we watched the movie, we kept rubbing our elbows together. When it ended, we took the girls home. Since Bobby drove, we dropped Susie off first. He walked her to the door, but they didn’t kiss. Then, we took Nancy home. I walked her to the door. I think she wanted me to kiss her goodnight, but I just told her I had a nice time and walked away. I was nervous getting into the car with Bobbie. It would be the first time we would really be alone. The only times I saw him was at the store, and we couldn’t do anything there. Then we had dates for the movie. I was trembling when I got into the car.”

Colin laughed and asked, “Did he jump your bones?”

“No,” I smiled. “We didn’t do things like that back then. We had to be discreet.”

“So,” asked Colin. “What did you do?”

“We held hands.”

“Bummer,” laughed Colin.

“It was sweet,” I replied as I remembered the moment. “Bobby was driving, and he reached over and held my hand on the way to my house.”

Colin laughed and said, “You should have snaked your hand in his pants.”

“Don’t think I didn’t want to,” I said laughingly. “When he dropped me off, both of us had raging hard-ons. If no one could have seen us, I think we would have jumped out of the car and fucked like crazy.”

“Damn!” laughed Colin. “You were horny.”

“Horny doesn’t quite describe it,” I laughed. “Remember, I was sixteen years old. I got hard if the wind blew. I was masturbating about three times a day.”

“Damn,” giggled Colin. “TMI. Too much information. So, did you kiss him goodnight?”

“Kind of,” I replied. “We couldn’t just kiss in the car. Someone might see us. So, he leaned down and kissed my hand.”

“Your hand?” laughed Colin.

“Well, after he kissed it, he rubbed his hand against my erection. Then I did the same to him,” I confessed. “As I was getting out of the car, Bobby asked me if I would like to go the following weekend to see a movie. He said we would go alone.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “In fact, I spent the night with him.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Colin. “This is going to be good.” He looked at his watch and said it was late, and he had to attend a meeting. “I want to hear all about it next time,” he said as he rose and left the room.

I looked over at the window and saw a smiling Bobby.