Chronicles Of An Academic Predator - 13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

July 5, 1962

Claremont, OH

It took all of my energy to pull myself out of bed, even as I glared at the clock, like it was the fault of the timepiece that I had to get up so early and take Stefan home for his English lesson. I was moving like a slug, but I managed to get him home in time, but just barely. The festival and all the beer I drank, not to mention a night of mind-blowing sex with Stefan, had all combined to leave me exhausted. I left the Schluter’s monstrosity and headed straight home, then I went back to bed and slept until 2 in the afternoon. It was one of those days where I had things to do but I just didn't want to do them. Instead, I indulged myself in an orgy of laziness.

Packing had seemed to be a challenge, but I’d already handled that a few days ago. Part of that was the result of my vehicular choice, because there wasn't much room in the Corvette for stuff. Instead, I’d segregated out the things that were necessities from those things I could temporarily do without. I packed up the necessities, then made arrangements to ship the rest to Chicago. I was even pretty flexible about the necessities, because they were mostly clothes and personal effects. The stuff Stefan and I had already taken to the condo, combined with the stuff I had bought during our shopping spree, was more than enough to tide me over until the shipment arrived.

My biggest dilemma wasn’t about packing, it was about how to get myself to Chicago. My mother was adamant that I shouldn't drive myself, while I was just as adamant that I should. I was inclined to just do what I wanted, and to ignore her ranting, but she would make an issue about it and pull my father into the argument, and I didn’t want to do that to him. I’d considered having Stefan drive out with me, hoping that would placate her, but that wouldn't work because he couldn't drive in America yet. Besides, I secretly feared that if he drove to Chicago with me, he'd end up staying. That had a certain attraction, because he was amazing in bed, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for that.

I finally roused myself enough to go out to the kitchen and make a sandwich. While I ate it, I went through the mail, and got something so awesome it transformed my whole mood: a letter from André.

June 26, 1962

Dear JP,

Sorry I haven't written until now. The army is into this whole immersion thing where we pretty much don't have contact with the civilian world. In fact, I'm probably not supposed to be writing this letter, but I'm going to sneak it out, if only so you'll have my address.

I'm doing well, but I'm so fucking tired I can hardly stand up. You'll be impressed with how muscular I am, though, once I'm done with training. Ha ha. Training will last 8 weeks, then hopefully I'll get a few days' leave. If I do, I'm spending it in Chicago.

I miss you,

André.

I sat staring at the two short paragraphs. He was doing well, and getting more muscular. And he may get leave? That was incredible news, but before I could become ridiculously euphoric, I reminded myself not to get my hopes up. The letter, with the precious return address, found its way into my briefcase, which I put into my car. I was almost ready to go. All I needed now was a way to escape without really upsetting my dad.

I decided that if I started making the rounds to say goodbye to people, that would beg the assumption that I was leaving, and may help me achieve my goal in a backhanded sort of way. I tried to call Stefan but there was no answer, so I decided to drive down and see if he was sleeping, almost hoping that he was so I could jump in and keep him company. Besides, Tonto would be the most important person for me to talk to before I left, so maybe I could take care of that at the same time. When I got there, the monstrosity seemed empty except for some noise in the study. I peeked in and saw Stefan there with his English instructor. I was really surprised at how long their lesson had gone. I didn’t realize Stefan was taking such intensive English lessons. They saw me and the instructor nervously got up and prepared to leave. I waited in the great hall.

They came out and Stefan politely escorted him to the door. In just a short time, he was already developing an air of graciousness that made him seem like he was to the manor born. He shut the door then turned to me with a conspiratorial grin. “Alone at last.” He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me, running his hands down to my ass. I used my good arm to grab the back of his head and pulled him into a deep passionate kiss. For a guy who didn't like to kiss, he’d sure gotten awfully good at it. His hands grabbed my ass cheeks, getting me so hot I was about to beg him to go upstairs.

I heard a crash and we both turned to find Tonto staring at us, her mouth wide open. She must have been carrying some groceries and dropped them, because there was a bag at her feet with cans rolling out of it. The three of us stood there, staring at each other, momentarily frozen in place. I was conscious of the fact that we were totally and completely busted, but the consequences beyond that hadn't really struck me.

Tonto finally came out of her trance, and true to form, she emerged from it in fighting form. “What the hell is going on here?” Neither of us said responded to her. “You two were kissing like lovers. Like homosexuals.” She just stared at us, while I was trying to figure out if there was a way to become invisible.

Stefan had an entirely different reaction. He backed away from me like I had the plague. I stood there dazed and confused, then Stefan rubbed his forearm across his mouth as if to clean off my residue. He looked like he was disgusted that I kissed him. My mood changed from one of embarrassment and horror to one of anger, anger that he’d react like that.

But my anger was nothing compared to Tonto’s. She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You have corrupted my grandson. He's just a kid, 10 years younger than you, and here you are, taking advantage of him.” I looked to Stefan for support, but he said nothing. “You all but molested him!” She was pretty scary when she was mad; no wonder most of the people in town were afraid of her.

I tried to reason with her. “Look Tonto, I'm sorry. I was just saying goodbye to Stefan and I guess our emotions got a little carried away.” I looked at him, hoping he'd say something, help me out somehow, but he just looked at me with fear and apprehension, acting like I tried to rape him. Then as if to ice the cake, he moved over behind Tonto, as if seeking her protection. “You don't have to worry about it, it won't happen again,” I spat out, more at him than at her.

If I’d been thinking clearly, I’d have known my strategy wouldn’t work with Tonto. “I never expected to be so disappointed in someone as I am in you right now JP. It's as if you just stood here and, and, and...” she spluttered “raped the boy.” Her face was red as a beet.

“It was just a kiss, and it was a mistake,” I said firmly. “It didn't mean anything.” I directed that statement at Stefan, and I could see him recoil as he digested the consequences of this choice he’d made. “I didn't force him to do anything, and I sure as hell didn't rape him.” My words were wasted on her, anyway. She was hysterical.

“Save your excuses. Just get out of my house!” I stood there staring at her. I’d never, in my worst nightmares, thought I’d ever be evicted and banned from her monstrosity. I had burned a bridge, and it was almost too horrible to contemplate how badly this hurt. My hesitation did nothing but make her angrier. “NOW!” she screamed, and pointed toward the door. I looked briefly at Stefan, but he wouldn't even make eye contact with me.

Between the two of them and their bullshit, they’d pulled me out of my inertia. I looked back at Stefan and he met my eyes, only this time he would see only total disgust in my expression. If he had said something, he could have calmed Tonto down. All he had to do was help me out, tell Tonto it wasn’t what she thought it was, and we’d have both probably escaped from this situation relatively unscathed.. Instead he was playing the victim, just fanning the flames. He was throwing me under the bus to save his own worthless skin. I was about to leave and totally write him off when I remembered how he had stayed with me in the hospital, how he had shown me in so many ways that he loved me. I decided that after all we’d been through together, I should give him a second chance.

“Are you coming with me, or are you staying here?” I asked him in French. He looked into my eyes, and we connected. I was offering him a chance to move to Chicago with me. I was holding out the chance for him to live in that thriving city, to explore it with me together, and to make a life there. I wasn't sure if I wanted that before, but I was prepared for it now. I figured that my relationship with him would trump his connection to his barely-known grandparents, and that the lure of Chicago would surely eclipse the charm of Claremont, but I was wrong. He just shook his head sadly.

Tonto was still glaring at me, and I in turn was glaring at Stefan. I guess she felt as betrayed by me as I felt betrayed by him. I walked up to Tonto and looking sternly at her, I spoke to her boldly. “Tolerance is easy when it doesn't impact your own family.” I refocused my glare on Stefan as I took off the pinky ring he’d given me and dropped it on the table in their foyer in a cavalier way. Then without another word, I walked through the drawing room, past the pictures of Steven and Billy, and out of the Victorian monstrosity for what I was sure was the last time.

I drove away from Tonto’s house and back up the hill, retracing my steps back to my parent’s house. I got to the familiar driveway but I motored past it. I couldn’t bring myself to go there. I was much too upset to face my parents. Instead, I drove further into the hills, way beyond our house, to a picturesque valley. There was a roadside stop there that in the past I'd visited for cruising, but that's not why I was here now. I was here to escape, to hide from the world, and to hide from myself. I got out of my car and sat on one of the picnic tables, my head in my hands, contemplating how fucked up my life was.

I'd really thought that Stefan loved me. I’d been so convinced I’d been worried about that, that he was too attached to me. But the big question on my mind was not whether he loved me, it was whether I loved him. I dug deep into my academic roots and mercilessly began to evaluate the facts as I knew them. If I loved him, I'd be willing to go back and fight for him, and I’d be willing to do what it took to take him with me. If I loved him, I'd be in way more agony than I was right now. I pulled the romantic aspects out of the equation and tried to evaluate my emotions objectively. I knew one of them was fear, because I very afraid, of the consequences of getting caught. I was also devastated over losing the friendship, love, and support of Tonto, one of the most important people in my life. But that was the extent of my distress, and perhaps most importantly, I wasn’t upset about losing Stefan. It was as if his reaction, his willingness to throw me to the wolves, had somehow broken a spell. He had cast the spell with his charm and his body, made me think it was love, but when the true person, the real Stefan emerged, my obsession with him, my love for him, vanished in the wind. It must have been that potent cocktail, lust and infatuation, but it was over now. I decided that I’d learned a valuable lesson, and tried to feel good about that.

In a foolish transference of blame I told myself that if my mother had let me leave this morning, none of this would have happened. But that charge was unfair, even given the way I felt about her these days. No, this was my fault, my responsibility. I was going to have to go back to Claremont, take my lumps, and then get the fuck out of there as fast as I could. I had one night of hell while I dealt with this, but by tomorrow I should be well on my way to Chicago, rid of this place that had done nothing but plague me lately.

I got back in my car and drove home at such a leisurely pace I didn’t get back until around 7pm. I’d half expected the police to be there waiting to arrest me. Instead, I found the house completely empty. It was strange and eerie that not even Vella and Abe were around. I was somewhat less freaked out when I found a note on the table from my mother, telling me that they were going to a charity dinner tonight, one of the extended events of the festival, and they probably wouldn't be back until 10pm. I got the rest of my stuff and put it in my car, fighting against the almost overwhelming temptation to just go ahead and leave. I tried to think about how I’d spin that, but there really was no way, and my parents would be hurt and furious if I all but eloped to Chicago.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts. That was unusual, because as far from the road as we were we rarely got unexpected visitors. In fact, the only time I could remember the doorbell ringing besides a planned visitor was for a delivery. Family members like Jim or Tonto would just walk in. I wondered if Tonto and Barry had come up to yell at me, and if they were ringing the doorbell to just accentuate the fact that they’d all but disowned me. I sighed even as I walked to the front door, and resigned myself to enduring their barrage. Let them take their shot. I’d absorb their punishment, then I’d get the fuck out of town.

Instead, I opened the door, and was shocked to the point of being speechless at seeing Jeff Hayes standing there. I never would have expected him to be here, not in a million years. He was carrying a duffel bag, which was a little strange. I looked past him to the driveway, wondering how he’d gotten here, but there was no car. Surely he didn’t walk all the way up here from the East Side? That was quite a trek, and it was uphill. He was getting more and more nervous, probably due to my silence, so I finally pulled my head out of my ass and talked to him. “Hi Jeff. Come on in,” I said, motioning for him to enter.

“I really shouldn't,” he said nervously. His voice was almost wavering. “I just came up to talk to you for a minute.” There was something odd about the way he was standing, but it was dark and I couldn't see him clearly.

“Come on in, Jeff,” I insisted. “It's OK. It will be more comfortable for me, and I've had a shitty day.”

“Me too,” he said as he walked through the door. I closed the door behind him, then I looked up expecting to see his drop-dead handsome face accentuated by the lights in the foyer. Instead, his lip was swollen, and he was black and blue all over. He limped in, carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder.

My first instinct was to grab it, but with one arm that was out of the question. “Oh God, Jeff, what happened to you? Come over here and sit down.” He seemed incredibly uncomfortable in our house. I guess that made sense. The Hayes' had 6 kids and lived in a shotgun house that probably only had 3 bedrooms.

“I didn't come here to tell you about my problems, I came here to apologize for how I treated you yesterday. I don't know what came over me. I guess I was drunk, and then when your cousin started staring at me, all the other guys started making fun of me. Calling him my boyfriend. I guess I just freaked out.” Did he come all the way up here just to tell me that?

“I kind of figured that was the case,” I said. “You walked up here?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, remembering my manners. I went into the kitchen and hurriedly got him a glass of ice water. I was worried that if I was gone for too long, he’d freak out and run away. I got back to find him sitting in our living room on my parent’s stylish sofa, looking incredibly nervous and uncomfortable. When I handed him the glass of water, I was treated to an appreciative grin.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” I responded, even as I sat down in the chair closest to him.

“So anyway, I'm on my way out of town, and I've always liked and respected you, even though we're not friends or anything. And I just didn't want to leave without trying to set things straight.”

“So you walked all the way up here just to apologize to me?” I asked, incredulous. It was mostly uphill, in the muggy July heat, and he had a limp. “Did your father make you do this?” That seemed to anger him.

“I don't have a father anymore,” he spat out. Join the club, I thought, recalling my own paternal issues. “He kicked me out, told me I almost got him fired. Beat the shit out of me, and even got help from my brother.”

“That’s not fair,” I objected, knowing it was a waste of time other than to show him some sympathy.

He shrugged. “I've always been good, done the right thing. I'm a good football player, I get good grades, and I normally don't cause no one trouble. My brothers go around raising hell and nothing happens to them, but I try to tow the line and I get my ass kicked. It ain't fair, but that's life.”

I stared at him while he said this, feeling not just sorry for him, but responsible for what happened in the first place. I should have done something to stop this. I had a feeling yesterday that something really bad would happen to him, but I’d spent no effort trying to figure out what that would be, and I’d spent no effort trying to stop it. Even though I’d violated my own social compact, he’d walked all the way up here just to apologize to me. He was the honorable guy, when I was not. Yet when I put aside the self-flagellation, the thing that stuck out most about Jeff was his easy-going manner. Besides the brief flash of anger he’d showed when I mentioned his father, and the contrition when he apologized, he seemed almost lackadaisical. That was so different than how I approached things. I internalized things, burying them deep while relying on my self-control to keep them down. This guy just let things roll right off his shoulders.

I shook off my introspection. “Look Jeff, I knew you were drunk, and I figured that we'd be OK, that we'd run into each other in town and work it out. I really didn’t think it was a big deal, and I sure as hell didn't expect you to get hurt.”

“I know. My dad said it was Barry Schluter that went ape shit. But it's my fault. I’m the one who treated you and your cousin like, uh, badly.” I thought it was cute that he was watching his language with me. “Besides, it's not the first time.”

“That's a bunch of crap. No one deserves to be beaten up. Come on, we're going to get you cleaned up. You're staying here tonight.” I got up and tried to lift his duffel. He smirked at me when it was too heavy for me to move it.

“No, that wouldn't be right. After the way I treated you, I can't be accepting charity from you.” He got up to leave.

“Alright, I've got a proposition for you,” I said insistently, standing in front of him to make sure he was listening to me. I’d gotten an inspiration, and an amazingly good idea had popped into my mind. “Stay the night here, and then you can drive with me to Chicago tomorrow.”

“Chicago?” he asked, even as his mouth dropped open in shock.

“Yeah,” I said casually. “You do know how to drive don't you?”

“Of course I know how to drive, even if I don't got a car,” he said, acting insulted, as if by implying he may not know how to drive he was somehow less of a man.

“You got a driver’s license?” I asked, since that was just as important.

“Yes, I have a license,” he said, now more annoyed with me. “You wanna see it?” he asked, challenging me in a playful way.

“I’ll verify that later,” I joked, then got serious. “I need to get to Chicago. I start working there this fall and I have a bunch of things to get organized. My parents are worried that it won't be safe for me to drive by myself because of my broken arm. I've been arguing with them all day, and I just want to get the fuck out of here. You'd be helping me out big time.” I tried to think of the details. “I would pay you, of course, and buy you a bus ticket back here. Unless you'd rather fly, but that's kind of a pain.”

“I've never been more than 50 miles beyond Claremont,” he said wistfully. “Chicago, the big city. Wow. That would be great.”

“So you’ll do it?” I asked, pressing him for a decision.

“I'd be glad to help you out, but you don't gotta pay me.” I decided that was a yes.

“Well, we'll have about 8 hours to argue about that in the car,” I said playfully. “Now grab your bag and follow me.” I took him to the guest room and showed him where everything was.

“This is a lot nicer than what I’m used to,” he said a little nervously. I ignored that.

“There's a shower in there, and I think you should use it.” He smelled a little ripe, having hiked miles uphill in the July heat.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“After you're cleaned up, meet me back in the front room and we'll make sure you're healthy.” He nodded, so I left him alone to clean up.

Jeff was a living example of what I’d been trying to explain to Stefan. Power was dangerous, and using power came with obligations. Because he’d been angry and careless, we had all but ruined Jeff’s life. I’d always thought he was a bully, but maybe I was just lumping him in with his brothers. I remembered that he’d been written up last year in the local paper. He was a Wide Receiver on the Football team, and supposedly damn good, breaking several school records. Not only that, he was on the honor roll. If I factored in how gorgeous he was, he was the total package. So here he was, successful and hard working and honorable, yet we’d managed to derail him. At this point, he was going to hit the road and have limited opportunities. He’d probably roam the land, find a job as a laborer, and waste his brains and potential. I resolved that no matter what else happened, I had to set this right. I had to save him from this downward spiral.

It didn’t take him long to get cleaned up. He walked into the front room looking pretty terrific, and smelling much better. Beneath the surface, though, he was pretty messed up. He was still limping, and his eyes were both swollen. They'd be black tomorrow. “What's wrong with your leg?” I asked.

“I twisted my ankle when my dad threw me down the stairs.”

“We should get it looked at,” I said, thinking that he couldn’t afford to mess up such a key part of his physique.

He shook his head firmly. “No. I've hurt my ankle before, and I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain. I'll just have to treat it gently for a week or so.” I thought about arguing with him, but I got the feeling he could be stubborn if he wanted to be, so I dropped that topic.

“Your eyes are going to be black, but your face looks fine. Anything broken?” I used this as an excuse to study his features closely. He had a slight bit of stubble above his lip. I bet he only shaved twice a week. His eyes were blue, but not a light blue like Stefan's, they were a darker blue, with a purple shade, making them a beautiful lavender color. I'd never seen a color like that. His breath smelled clean, like he'd just brushed his teeth, so I couldn't tell if he smoked or not. His teeth were bright and white, although the lower ones were pretty crooked. “You look fine to me. You feel OK now?”

“Yeah, I feel fine, except...oh never mind.” He wanted something, but was too embarrassed to ask.

“What? What is it?” I asked. Just then his stomach growled and I started laughing. After my encounter with Tonto I wasn't sure if I would ever laugh again, but that was just too funny. “Come on,” and I motioned him to follow me into the kitchen.

I was just about to rip through the kitchen to make some food for Jeff when Vella came walking in. “Hi Vella,” I said cheerfully. She smiled at me like she always did. “This is Jeff Hayes.” I was interested to see how Jeff would interact with colored people. He came from the east side, where whites and Negroes usually had nothing but antipathy for each other.

“I know Mr. Hayes,” she said, and went over and gave him a hug. “He plays football with Sammy. Did you come all the way up here to see him?”

“No ma'am,” he said politely. “I'm sort of on my way out of town.” He was visibly uncomfortable talking about this, and Vella looked like she was warming up to give him the third degree.

“He's going to drive me to Chicago tomorrow,” I told her, with a look that said I'd fill her in later.

“Oh,” she said, playing along, “well that's just wonderful. We've been worried about JP driving half way across the country with only one good arm.”

“I’ll help him out,” Jeff promised.

“So you boys come in here for some food?” Vella asked, then set herself to work to make a late dinner for Jeff and me. I was amazed at just how much food Jeff could eat. About halfway through his food fest, Sammy came in and sat down with him. I put out a plate for him too, and then while they immersed themselves in eating and conversations about football, Vella and I walked into the other room.

I’d known Vella my entire life, and she appreciated it when I got to the point and gave her the bare facts, so that’s what I did. “When Jeff was drunk yesterday he roughed up Stefan, then was pretty rude to both of us. Stefan told Barry Schluter, he complained to Bill Hendrickson, who must have come down on Fred Hayes. So Fred beat him up and kicked him out. He came up here to apologize to me before he headed out of town.” Her eyes told me she got it. She understood how things worked as well as I did.

“That’s a shame,” she said, shaking her head. “Jeff’s a good boy.”

“I didn't have a chance to stop things, and now we've really messed up this guy's life. We have to make it right Vella.” I said to her earnestly. I wondered to myself if I would feel this adamant if Jeff were ugly. I thought about my background, and how I was raised to take responsibility for my actions and to answer for them. That’s what this was about. I briefly questioned my moralizing when I asked myself if that’s what I was doing with Stefan. Fleeing to Chicago, running away from Stefan and any consequences for my actions didn’t sound like if fit into that narrative. I pushed that out of my mind resolving to think about it later.

“Don't you worry JP. We'll figure something out. Maybe he can stay with us. We got an extra room. Can you imagine the look on Fred Hayes' face when he finds out his son is living with Negroes?” That appealed to her mightily. I'd never thought about him staying with them, but it made sense. “I'll talk to Sammy and Abe, and we'll figure out something.”

“Thanks Vella,” I said, and gave her a gentle hug, mostly because my ribs still hurt and because my arm was broken.

We went back into the kitchen where Sammy and Jeff were arguing about some football maneuver, something I wouldn't have understood even if I were paying attention. Sports, for me, were limited to tennis, riding, and walking. “Sammy, come on, we gotta get home,” Vella said. Sammy said goodbye to Jeff and off they went, leaving Jeff and me alone.

“Where do they live?” Jeff asked me.

“My father had a house built just beyond those trees for them when we moved up here. They're part of our family.” Jeff seemed to take that in stride, like he probably did with most things.

“I didn't think they let colored people live up here in the Heights?” He was right, and it was an insidious form of segregation. People pledged, sometimes even in writing, that they wouldn't sell their house to a colored person. Realtors aided the process by steering the races to their own neighborhoods.

“Well technically the house is on our property so it's ours, but my father has arranged for it to be transferred to them. I don't know all the legal details, but it wasn't easy.” I also didn't tell him that no one knew about that agreement, and that’s how we’d avoided an angry backlash from our neighbors.

I was about to explain that when my parents came strolling in. We both instinctively stood up to show respect. My mother saw us and became visibly shaken, while my father was merely curious. “Jeff Hayes, I'd like you to meet my parents, Jack and Marie Crampton.” They both shook hands with him, and while they had to notice his bruises, they would never be so crass as to comment on them. My father engaged him in a conversation about the upcoming football season. My mother and I made eye contact and I could read the look of horror in her eyes. We didn’t have to say anything. She'd been to the picnic, she'd seen the whole thing evolve, and now she saw the consequences.

I knew from her look alone that I could rely upon her to make this right. I'd been so bitter lately, so angry with her, that I'd forgotten about the things that made me love her as a person, not just as a mother. Her kindness, and her sense of obligation, would make sure that Jeff landed on his feet. I began to think that, with time, I might be able to forgive her for fucking Bill Hendrickson. In reality, I wasn’t really mad that she’d had sex with him. It’s not like I was chaste and pure. What bothered me is that we’d been so close, our relationship had been so incredibly tight, yet she had failed to tell me one of the most important things: she hadn’t told me who my father really was.

The night had taken such an unexpected turn I had forgotten about the scene with Tonto. Here I was feeling charitable for not disowning my mother when I was the one who was about to be banned from their midst. When Tonto told my parents how I had preyed on Stefan and seduced him, since I was sure that was the kind of story he would make up for her, I’d be persona non grata around here. With that big revelation, my big secret would be out. They’d know that their youngest son was as queer as a three-dollar bill. Logic burst through my emotional morass, giving me clarity on this situation with my mother for probably the first time. I was mad at her for withholding this vital information from me, something that I expected her to share since we were so close, yet I had hidden my own sexuality from her. As that tumbled through my brain, bouncing around like a pinball hitting bumpers, I decided that we were even.

“JP, quit daydreaming,” my father said firmly, pulling me out of my mental gymnastics.

“Sorry, Dad,” I said, but with a bit more cheer than I’d had before. Internally resolving these things had stabilized me, and made me ready for my next challenge.

“Jeff says he's driving you to Chicago,” my father said.

My mother jumped in. “I am so glad. I will feel so much better knowing you have someone with you.”

“Yes. It will be nice to have the company and the help. We're leaving tomorrow morning.” I said that with a firmness that defied argument. I saw my mother stop her objections before she started, so I took that opportunity to carve my plans into granite. “I figure that Jeff can spend a few days in Chicago, help me get settled, and maybe even see the city.” He beamed with anticipation when I said that.

“You will enjoy Chicago,” my mother said to Jeff.

“I’ve never been to a big city like that,” he told her. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“After Jeff experiences the joys of urban America, I’m going to get him a ticket home.” I’d meant my statement to be rather humorous, but as I said the word home, everyone cringed. Jeff no longer had a home.

“Jeff, when you get back, you will come here. You can stay with us or, with Abe and Vella,” my mother said firmly, to make it not a request, but a command. She was coming through just like I knew she would. I smiled at her as I felt my respect for her returning.

“Ma'am, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right to impose upon you all. I got myself into my problems, and I can get myself out of them,” Jeff said in a very respectful way. It was a wasted effort on his part.

“Nonsense young man,” my father said, using his most authoritarian voice. “When you come back from your trip to Chicago, you will come here.” I guess years of listening to his father issue edicts and to doing what coaches said had conditioned Jeff, so I could see all resistance fading at my father’s firm statement.

My mother delivered the coup-de-gras. “And it looks like I am going to have to teach you some manners. When people offer to do something for you, you are not supposed to argue, you are supposed to say 'thank you'.”

“Thank you sir, ma'am.” He said nervously. “I appreciate your help. It's my senior year, my last season for football. I'm hoping I might even get a scholarship. I'd hate to leave all that behind. Wherever you can manage to put me up, I'd be grateful.” He caved graciously, a man after my own heart. He yawned, trying to cover it up, but it was too late.

My father excused himself and vanished into his study, leaving my mother to wind things down. “You are tired and you have a big day ahead of you. You should get to sleep,” she said. “JP, did you already get Jeff set up in the guest room?”

“I did,” I confirmed.

“Excellent,” she said. “Then I will bid you both good night.”

I showed Jeff back to his room, not that he couldn't find it himself. When he got to the door, he turned to me and shocked the shit out of me by giving me a big bear hug. “Thanks JP. I didn't expect you all to be so nice and generous to me. The weird thing though, and I don't know why, but I'm really not surprised.” I hugged him back, thinking that his words were the ultimate compliment, showing that our efforts to be generous and kind in this town had become part of our reputation.

“No problem Jeff. You'll just have to make it up to me by kicking ass this year in school.” He smiled at me and I left him in peace, or at least I hoped I did.

I walked to my room and felt a tremendous weight on my shoulders and on my conscience. I wanted someone to talk to, to guide me through all this, to help me keep my thoughts straight, but there was no one. André was gone, Stefan was off-limits, Tonto hated me, and my mother was a big part of my problem. This whole convoluted web would simply stun and baffle my father. I was tempted to fly out to LA and find Peter, but that was just me playing with a fantasy.

No, in the end, I'd have to handle this on my own, but at least I could get the fuck out of here and do it in Chicago. I wasn’t in a bad mood, but I was really agitated. I walked into my room, locked the door, and when I turned around I saw Sammy standing there, waiting for me. I wasn't expecting him, so I almost jumped out of my skin. He chuckled.

“I'm sorry to scare you JP. I just wanted to come talk to you.”

“Yeah, well you did,” I grumbled, but smiled to show I was teasing. “It’s no big deal Sammy. Besides, I told you you were always welcome to stop by.”

“Yeah, well thanks, well, I didn't come by for that. Well, not exactly, I mean...” He was stammering and nervous, which was just adorable.

“Relax,” I said firmly. I sat down on my bed and he sat next to me. “What's on your mind?”

“I just wanted to thank you for helping Jeff out. We're pretty good friends, leastaways as good a friends as a white boy and negro boy can be. His Dad is so mean to him, already broken some of his bones. I've been trying to get him to leave home but he won't. Now he ain't got no choice.” Sammy obviously cared about Jeff.

“It was the least I could do. It was my fault, I mean Stefan's fault, that he got his life all screwed up. I'm just cleaning up the mess.” He looked at me studiously.

“Well, you say what you want, but it was a nice thing to do. Begging your pardon, even though it ain't my place to say, but that cousin of yours is bad news,” Sammy said. It was funny, because when he was gossiping like this, he sounded just like his mother.

“You're probably right about Stefan. I guess I just got carried away trying to help him.” The day's events came flooding back to me, threatening to destroy what little calm I was holding on to.

“He just don't know his place yet, and that makes him dangerous.”

“I agree with you, but he’s a smart guy. I think he’ll figure out how to fit in,” I said optimistically.

Sammy deftly changed the subject. “Well next time you need someone to drive you out to Chicago again, I'm gonna have my license, so I'll take you.” He was excited, because he’d never been to Chicago either, but he was also being very protective of me, which was sweet.

“I'd like nothing better,” I said with a smile.

“Well thanks again for all you done for Jeff. If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know. I sure owe you one.”

“Actually, there is something you can do for me,” I said as I leered at him. The only way I was going to get all this conflict out of my mind, and to get any sleep at all, was to get laid.

“Oh yeah?” he asked me in a flirtatious way while grabbing his package.

I reached over and replaced his hand with mine, feeling his massive tool hardening as I squeezed it. He stood up and undid his pants and dropped them to the ground, and then pulled his shirt off. I rushed to get as naked as he was.

I gently pushed him onto the bed, making him lie down. He put his hands behind the back of his head, giving me total access to his body. His dark ebony skin was almost invisible in the dark room, but I used my fingers to explore, not my eyes. I moved up to his face, putting my lips on his, but he moved his head away. I got the picture. For him, this was just a physical release. A kiss was too intimate, too romantic. It was almost as if he didn't kiss me what he was doing wasn't queer. I had no problem with that. What I wanted was at the middle of his body.

I moved my mouth down his chest, staying in the middle, not messing with his nipples, then down across his abdomen, until I found his hard cock flopping against my face. He really was big. It still couldn't tell if he was bigger than André or not. They were pretty close. I took his cock in my mouth, working up and down his pole, paying attention to the head. He was in heaven as I worked my oral magic, but like most young guys, he didn’t last too long. In no time at all, he shot his load almost straight down my throat. I moved up and lay next to him, putting my head on his chest.

“Well,” he said uncomfortably, “I probably ought to get back before they notice I'm missing.” I didn't want him to leave.

“I'll make you a deal Sammy. You stay here for another half hour, and I'll show you something that will blow your mind.” I couldn't see his expression, but I knew he was tempted.

“Well, I sure do owe you, so I guess that’s OK.” So I got him talking about his upcoming football season, and about school. He wanted to be either a veterinarian or an artist. The artist part didn't surprise me because I'd already seen his painting skills, but the veterinarian part did. I never knew he liked animals that much. It dawned on me that there were a lot of things I didn't know about him.

“So, uh, is a half hour up yet?” he asked. I reached down and grabbed his flaccid cock.

“It will be when this thing is up again,” I said.

“That ain’t no problem at all,” he said, being cocky.

I pulled out the Vaseline and really lubed up his cock, knowing this was going to take some effort on my part. I'm sure he thought I was going to give him a hand job, but that's not what I was after: I wanted him to fuck me. I had two specific reasons, and I almost laughed when I thought about how logical I was being about this. First of all, I wanted him to fuck me because I wanted to get fucked. Nothing would help my frame of mind better than his big dick up my ass. If I was going to get any sleep at all, that’s what it was going to take. But the bigger reason was that I wanted to see if I could take him, and I wanted the practice with a big dick like his. André was going to get leave and come to Chicago, or so he said, and when he did I wanted to be ready. I wanted to be good at it, and I wanted to really show him a good time. Stefan had shown me how to get fucked, he’d taught me how to relax, and he’d helped me realize the true joy of being penetrated. But he wasn't close to being as big as André. Sammy was.

I straddled Sammy, lowering myself down onto his monster cock. I smiled to myself, visualizing the surprise I had in store for him. It was pitch black in my room, so he couldn't see me, only feel my presence. I grabbed his dick and stroked it, trying to perpetuate his impression that I was going to jerk him off. Then I felt that huge thing reach my ass and I kept going. It started to hurt, so I stopped, moved up again, and waited a second. Then I tried again.

“JP, what are you doing to me?” he asked nervously.

“Hang on Sammy, I promise you'll like it,” I reassured him. Finally, I'd gotten myself prepared and I pressed harder, waiting for that telltale pop as his massive head slipped past my ring. I felt the pressure building and forced myself to relax. I started breathing heavily, probably like a woman who was having a baby. He was talking to me, but I didn't hear him. Then all of sudden the pressure released and he popped into me. I sat all the way down on his cock. At first it was a little uncomfortable, but that didn't last long. I started to move up and down on his cock, making sure to ram that thing against my special spot. I pretended he was André and started working myself into a frenzy. I heard him moaning below me, but I was in my own world, getting myself off, being totally self-absorbed and totally oblivious to everything around me. I felt my orgasm building, took a few pulls on my cock to help it along, and blew all over him. Only after I was done did I realize that he had ejaculated too.

“Holy shit,” he said as he exhaled.

I moved off of him, feeling his juices run out of my ass and down my leg. “Well, was that worth waiting around for?” I asked him.

“Damn, I ain't never ever felt anything like that before. That was amazing.” He paused for a minute to catch his breath. “Damn.” He said again.

We both lay there panting for a few minutes. “OK JP, now I really do gotta go. Thanks. That was a blast.”

I smiled as he walked out the door to the veranda. “No Sammy, thank you” I thought to myself. I’d taken his huge cock like a pro. When André came home, I would be ready for him. I slept great.