Behaving Responsibly - 7. Into the Deep End

It was the fifth week of Basic Training, and I was supposed to speak with Teddy. However, Dad informed me my brother was deep in his pre-school studies and would rather wait until the following week. So, I reluctantly called Angie instead.

“Hello. Is it you, Bobby?”

I struggled not to sound as pissed off as I was. “Yeah, Angie, it’s me.”

“I’m so glad you called. How are you?”

“So we’re gonna be all cordial and shit?”

I could tell she was frustrated. “Please, Bobby. I’m trying to figure this out. You could at least help a little.”

I relented. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s hot as fucking hell here, and the work is beating the shit outta me.”

“Teddy told me you’re the leader now.”

“Flight Leader. It means I’m in command of the entire goddamn company of recruits.”

“It sounds important. I’m proud of you.”

“Angie, what the fuck is going on?”

She paused to choose her words. “Bobby, I’m trying to make it up to you—what I did that last night, I mean. I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

“You said that to Teddy, and I told him to tell you I forgive you.”

“He told me, but I—”

“What? You didn’t fucking believe him?”

“I need to hear it from you and to explain, but now you’re talking to me almost like you’re the commander, and I’m a soldier who messed up.”

“We’re called ‘airmen.’ ”

“Fine, but you know what I’m saying.”

Now, it was my frustration that showed. “I guess I do. Sorry, I’m used to being in authority now.

“Listen, Bobby. Is there any way we could talk for longer than five minutes?”

“Uh, actually, yes. I’m in an office, instead of in line for the phone with everybody else.”

“In an office? Why?”

“Because I’m Officer of the Day today.”

“And you’re allowed to make personal calls from your office?”

“Hell, no, but there’s nobody around and nothing’s happening, so we can talk for a while.”

“Well, thank you for arranging this. I’m glad we have some time.”

“Let’s not waste it, though.”

“Right... So, I guess we should start with that last night.”

“The night you walked out on me.”

She gasped. “I hoped we were past that.”

My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, we are. Way fucking past.”

“So the reason I went home—”

“Without waking me up or saying good-bye or anything.”

“Yes, without all that. I’m such a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, but you did a bitchy thing—once. We’ve been friends for years, and that’s the only time you ever pulled any shit like that.”

“And I feel terrible about it. I still don’t understand why I left. When we finished, uh—”

I struggled to suppress my annoyance. “Making love?”

“Yes, making love the last time, I was so confused.”

“About what? Did you not think I loved you?”

“No, Bobby. I knew—I know—you love me.”

“I still do.”

“You do?”

“Yes, but I also hate you a little.”

“Well, I deserve it.”

“I disagree. We were both too immature to think straight, and we’d been drinking.”

“And we’d just had mind-blowing sex.”

I chuckled at that. “You think so? I thought it was break-up sex.”

“Whatever. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

“And you have a fuck-ton more experience than I do.”

That stunned her. “Bobby, are we going to keep going around in circles?”

“No, I guess not. Go on.”

“So you love me, and you hate me.”

“It’s fucking confusing as hell.”

“For me, too.”

“OK, I hear you. Sorry. Like I said, I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“That night, I lay there awake long after you fell asleep. I went over and over the things you said.”

“And what about the things you said?”

“Them to. And I realized you were right.”

“I was?”

“Yes. We could have—should have—tried to work out a way to stay together, even when we were miles apart. You said your parents did, and I’m sure millions of other couples have, too.”

“You said ‘that was them, and this is us,’ if I remember correctly.”

“I was full of shit. I was pissed at you.”

“Pissed at me? Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Exactly. You were right, but I couldn’t admit it—to myself or to you.”

I let that sink in for a moment. “Angie, that clears the air about our last night, but what the hell does it mean about us now? Does it mean any goddamn thing?”

“I think it’s up to us to figure that out, Bobby.”

“How the fuck do we do that?”

“Well, it’s impossible to do over the phone for five minutes every three weeks. When are you coming home?”

I hesitated. “Uh, that’s a little up in the air.”

“What? They’re not going to let you come home after your training? You’ve been away for over a month now. I thought you were getting time off after you graduated. I was hoping to see you before I leave for college.”

“Angie, I can’t talk about it because it’s classified, but you do realize there’s a war on.”

“Of course I do, but surely they can give you some leave before you’re assigned?”

“They might not. I might be needed sooner than anyone thinks.”

“Why? Are you that important? Is the damn war that important? What does it matter to us?”

“Those are all valid questions, Angie, but one thing trumps them all.”

“What?”

“I signed up to serve this country. I took an oath, and I not only have to honor it, I fucking want to.”

“And of course you didn’t make any promises to me.”

“I tried to.”

Sounding desperate, she pleaded, “Please—I realize I fucked up, Bobby, big time. I had the best man in the whole world in love with me, and I fucked it up.” She burst into tears.

I could never handle a woman crying. “Angie, it’s OK. We both fucked up. We were too stubborn to stop and talk things through, and now it’s too late.”

“No. It can’t be too late, Bobby. Please tell me we can work it out somehow.”

A loud knocking on the office door interrupted the conversation.

“Shit. I gotta go, Angie.”

“No! Can you call me back?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. Bye.” I hung up, totally unsatisfied with the call and mad at myself for letting it bother me so much.

The goddamn knocking was more insistent this time.

“Enter.”

Cal Rouleau stuck his head through the doorway hesitantly. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something.” He surveyed the empty room. “I thought you were talking to somebody.”

The glare I gave him told him to drop it. “You came here for—”

He stepped into the room, but only a couple of steps. “To tell you Sergeant Drucker wants you in the Infirmary. Some stupid sumbitch shot himself in the fuckin foot on the rifle range.” His expression informed me he thought it was bullshit.

I picked up my flight cap and left the office. I still had unresolved feelings about Angie, but they had to be put on the back burner. My duties as Flight Leader did not allow time outs for personal matters.

We headed to the base Infirmary together, but Cal waited outside, smoking.

Drucker was in the little lobby area. “Well, Flight Leader, this will be a real test of your mettle.”

“What the fuck, Sarge?”

Nodding his head toward a nearby door, he spoke with disdain. “Airman Recruit Lawrence Andersen is in there. Foot wound. Fucking self-inflicted.”

“He admits it?”

“Hell, no, but I’ve seen it before. The fucker wants out.”

“A lot of guys want that, but we can usually straighten them out. What’s really wrong with him?”

He snorted with disgust, leaned in close, and spoke ominously into my face. “I’ll leave that for you to find out, Flight Leader.” He turned and left the Infirmary, and I cautiously entered the treatment room.

I recognized the man sitting up on the side of the examining table. I'd seen him around a lot but never got to know him very well.

His left foot was bandaged, and the cloth was stained red with blood. I stood in the doorway, assessing the situation.

“Airman Andersen.” My voice was flat.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and then he immediately looked down at the floor. “Flight Leader.”

“You all right?”

“I guess so. The doc says it’ll heal.”

“Want to tell me what the fuck happened?” At this point, I wasn’t going to cut him any slack. If he’d really done what Drucker said, he’d be in a shitload of trouble—even prison.

“Isn’t it obvious?” His voice sounded more defeated than defiant.

I took a step closer, which caused him to look up again. I gave him a stare that penetrated deep into his soul. I silently thanked Dad for using that look on me so often I could easily mimic it.

It only took him a second to realize what I wanted. “I mean, isn’t it obvious, Sir?”

“No, it isn’t fucking obvious. How the hell did you do this, Airman? And don’t give me no bullshit.”

I talked to my men using several styles, ranging from compassionate sympathy to outright hostility. With Andersen, I was aiming for something in between and speaking the way I’d heard my squad members talk.

“I dunno, Sir. The gun just went off.”

“Fucking pointed at your foot? What the hell were you trying to hit? The goddamn floor?”

He shrugged and a tear ran down his cheek. I walked over to him and sat on the table next to him. I changed to my friendly voice.

“What’s on your mind, Airman? Stress getting to you?”

“I suppose so, Sir.”

“So, what are we gonna do about this?”

“I guess you’ll have to fail me out and send my ass home, Sir.”

I went back to a stern tone. “Not gonna happen, Andersen. You’ll be lucky if you don’t end up fucking court-martialed.”

He shuddered and turned to face me. His eyes flooded with tears and he choked out a sob. “Why, Sir? What did I do?”

I tried for an expression halfway between sympathetic and disgusted. I spoke solemnly, the way a leader has to.

“This looks like an Article 134: self-inflicted injury to avoid service. I think the doc will back me up, which means a dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of pay, and imprisonment for up to five years. At least we’re not in a combat zone, where the penalty would be doubled.”

I looked him in the eyes. “You ready for that shit, Airman?”

He lowered his head. His body shook violently as he sobbed loudly. “I just...need...to leave, Sir.”

Tears always make me sympathetic. I took a deep breath and spoke kindly. “Why, Larry? Something happen to you?”

“I...can’t say, Sir. I’ve gotta get out of here. But not to prison. That would make it worse.”

“Larry, talk to me.” He raised his head. His face was red and drenched with his tears. “This doesn’t sound like an attempted suicide, but maybe you can clarify things for me.”

If it were an actual suicide attempt, the outcome for him would be very different—prison hospital, counseling, and a medical discharge.

“Does it make a difference?”

I crossed my arms. “Damn straight it does.”

“But it’s my foot.”

“You’ve always been shit at marksmanship, which could explain how you got shot. Or maybe you dropped the gun and it went off. You’re lucky it didn’t shoot your goddamn balls off.” I wasn’t joking. I hoped I could drop enough hints for him to come up with a believable story.

“If that’s what it was, do I have to go back to my squad?”

“Don’t you want to, Larry? Why not?”

“I...can’t say, Sir. It’s...not good. I can’t say anything more.”

I thought a moment. Something was very wrong here, and it wasn’t simply cowardice. I fucking needed to get to the bottom of it.

“I’m gonna leave you here. The doc wants to keep you overnight. I’ll talk to some guys and come back in the morning. Can I trust you, or do we need to use handcuffs?”

“No, Sir. I’ll stay here.”

“OK, Airman. On your honor, and do whatever the doctor says.”

“Yes, Sir, Flight Leader.”

I squeezed his shoulder, stood, and left the room. The doctor was waiting for me in his office.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“I think this is a very troubled young man, and he most definitely would not do well in prison. Are you thinking Article one thirty-four?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t think it would be best for him. He needs treatment, counseling.”

“So, attempted suicide? If that’s what it was, the dumb fuck missed by a mile. Would you sign off on that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

I shook my head in dismay. I was seeing in real life that the demands of leadership never diminished. The shit just kept coming. I told the doc, “I’ll take it under advisement. I have to discuss this with Drucker, and he’ll take it to the general.”

“I’ll stick with my diagnosis of attempted suicide, if it helps.”

“We’ll have to see.” I shook his hand and left the Infirmary.

Judging by the pile of butts he had lined up in a row on the porch railing, Cal was smoking his sixth Camel. Throwing a cigarette butt on the ground at the base was an automatic night in the brig, plus toilet duty for a week.

I greeted my buddy with, “I’m withholding judgment until I talk to Drucker.”

“Why the hell are you wasting your time on a goddamn asshole like Andersen? He needs to get what he fuckin deserves.”

I was taken aback. “What the hell are you talking about, Cal? Dammit, I want an answer—a goddamn honest one.”

He stiffened. “Listen, Flight Leader, there’s some shit you don’t want to hear about.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Airman Rouleau.”

“OK, but you’re gonna be fuckin sorry.”

“Tell me now, or I’ll throw your ass in the brig.” My tone of voice was somewhere between severe and teasing.

“All right, Sir. The men in his squad say he’s queer.”

“Queer? As in homosexual?”

“Fuckin-A.”

“How would they know?”

“Word is, he fuckin watches them get undressed, and he gets a hard-on in the showers that he tries to hide.”

“But has he ever done anything? Said anything? Made advances on anyone?”

“Not so as I’ve heard, but it don’t matter. It’s fucked up, and the men in his squad told him they want his ass out. I bet they’re willing to do him some kind of ‘grievous bodily harm’ if he comes back there.”

“Cal, that’s a serious accusation. The best case scenario is he would be drummed out, his draft board would judge him 4-F, and there’d be a permanent blot on his record. It would follow him for the rest of his life.”

“Well, if he is queer, he fuckin deserves it.”

“And if he’s not? What if he’s just confused?”

“All I can say is he’d better fuckin prove it, and quick.”

“And how the hell would he do that?”

“I dunno. Maybe fuck a girl in front of all the men in his squad.” He gave me a mischievous grin.

I tried hard not to laugh, but I lost the battle. “Goddammit, Cal, you’re so full of shit I’m surprised you don’t bust open and color everything brown.”

“Shit just comes natural to us coonass Cajuns, Bob.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Well, thank you for your input. I’ve still gotta go talk to Drucker.”

“Good luck with him. The bastard hates queers.”

“And who told you that?”

“Word gets around. He’s come down hard as fuck on them in the past. Goddamn pansies shouldn’t enlist.”

“That’s not a big help, but thanks for clarifying things for me. See you later.”

I was seated in Drucker’s office sharing a cigarette with my TI and buried in a jumble of conflicting thoughts.

The Sergeant was pissed and he showed it. “What’s the goddamn problem, Stimson? You got fucking queer friends or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of, Sir, but there were a couple of ’em in my class in high school. They had a pretty fucking rough time. It didn’t seem fair to me. People have a right to be who they are.”

“Even if they’re fucked up and breaking the law?”

“I don’t see why the law cares who people fuck.”

He stared at me like I had three heads. His tone was condescending and furious. “Because, Bob, they go after goddamn little boys. They want to fuck them in the ass and turn them queer.”

I was so stunned I didn’t know what to say. I proceeded carefully, “I...don’t think...that’s always the case, Sarge. Sure, the ones who do that shit should fucking rot in prison, but the ones who want...I don’t know, a relationship or some shit like that...they aren’t hurting anybody.”

“Do you believe that bullshit?”

I shrugged. “I’m not positive. I’ve never had to think about it.”

“Well, you fucking have to now, goddammit.”

Fat lot of help he was. I stood my ground. “What do you think? One thirty-four?”

“It’s the obvious choice. Ties it all up in a neat little package. And most of all, it keeps you out of deep shit.”

“Me? How the fuck—”

“Because, Son, if you go easy on him, it’ll raise doubts in your superior officers, and also in your colleagues. You’re cruising to a promotion as soon as you graduate. Do you want to throw it all away because of some fuckin fairy?”

“Where’s the evidence against him? Has he done anything? With anyone? Or is this just bullshit—someone the men in his squad can all pick on?”

“You should ask him.” He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out forcefully. “OK, for the sake of discussion, what were you thinking?”

“Maybe medical discharge. Article 83—charge him with malingering. Thirty days in the brig here, then out on his ass.”

“You can quote your Code pretty well.”

“I’ve studied it. I’ve never had to apply it in real life.”

“Well, once again, Bob, welcome to leadership.”

“Right now, it kinda feels like leader-shit. You gonna talk to Wright?”

“Not talk, but I’ll write a report with your recommendation in it.”

“Am I shooting myself in my own goddamn foot?”

“We’ll find out.”

********

Later, in the Duty Officer’s office, I called my father.

“What do you think, Dad? Did I just fuck up my career?”

“No, Son, or at least, probably not. The final decision is not your responsibility. You rendered an opinion, based on the information presented to you. It’s exactly what you’re expected to do, and the fact that you did it impartially counts in your favor, too.”

“What do you think will happen to Andersen?”

“That depends on a lot of things. Bobby, leadership often requires making hard choices. You’ve got the airman and his, uh, problem. Then you’ve got the morale of all the men in his squad. In addition, you’re the leader of the whole recruit flight, so you’re in the spotlight, whatever you do.”

“I feel like I’m fucked, no matter what happens.”

“Not true, Son. You’ve shown the qualities it takes to be a successful leader. Leaders lead, even when they’re wrong. Never look back. Never second-guess yourself, or it will drive you fucking crazy.”

I heard him take a drag off his cigarette and then cough. “Son, you have to stand behind your decision. After all, it’s only a recommendation. If you were responsible for the ultimate disposition of his case, it would be even harder to deal with.”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“Get used to it, Bobby. And trust your judgment. I’ve got absolute faith in you, and I believe the men around you—not to mention your superiors—can see you gave full consideration to the whole picture.”

“Unfortunately, there’s a few who will love giving me shit about it.”

“There will always be those, but do you give a damn what they think?”

“Hell no, Dad. Fuck ’em. But it’s like I’m under a goddamn microscope, every minute of every day.”

“I know what it’s like, Son. It never gets easier, but after a while you stop caring what others think. Be true to yourself, and to hell with everyone else.”

“Except you.”

He laughed. “Especially me. I’m full of shit most of the time!”

“Never in a million years.”

We chatted for a while longer about home and Teddy busting his butt studying hard for his senior year classes. Then I hung up, still racking my brain over my decision—or rather, the recommendation I sent up the chain of command.

I tried to take Dad’s advice and move on, but I barely slept.

The next day, Drucker and I were crossing the quad, and we saw two MPs escorting Larry Andersen in handcuffs to a waiting vehicle.

The sergeant said quietly, “Your Article 83 suggestion was rejected. Andersen admitted deliberately wounding himself to avoid serving. He’s heading for a full court martial and prison time.”

I sighed. “Where his sexuality will invite unimaginable abuse.”

“If he’s queer, he brought it on himself and deserves whatever he gets. He never should have enlisted.”

“So you think queer people shouldn’t want to serve their country?”

Drucker stopped and gave me the meanest, ugliest frown I’d ever seen. “Are you on his fucking side or something? That attitude will put you on the fast track to nowhere. You’d better get over this shit, and I mean now.”

I kept my mouth shut.

As he reached the car, Larry turned to gaze at me with a blank expression. I wanted to rush over and tell him I had tried to save him, but I couldn’t. The MPs hustled him into the vehicle, and it drove away, which was the last I saw of Airman Recruit Lawrence Andersen.

That evening, over beers and cigarettes, I opened up to my best friend, Cal.

“Shit, man. I did the best I could for him, didn’t I? I couldn’t say I accepted his homosexuality, but goddammit, he’s a fellow human being.”

I took a sip of beer and a long drag on my smoke. “Fuck! The bastard didn’t commit a single homosexual offense or harm anyone. He was only accused of ‘acting’ queer.”

I shook my head in dismay. “Maybe his squad mates misinterpreted, or maybe they were looking for someone to fucking rag on. You know how guys can carry on once they find somebody’s weakness. Maybe what he supposedly did was totally innocent?”

“But Drucker told you he admitted it.”

“But how much pressure did they put on him to get him to say that shit? And even if he is queer, I still don’t believe he deserves the kind of treatment he’s gonna have to endure from this day forward.”

I frowned. “It’s like he’s being made an example—a warning to anyone else so inclined that they’d better keep their secret at all costs.”

Cal nodded. “You might be right, but sometimes a warning’s a good thing. I mean, who wants queer guys sleeping in the same goddamn room with you or taking a shower and seeing you naked? Anybody who tries any shit on me is gonna end up with his fuckin lights punched out!”

“I hear you, and I’m not saying I could be true to myself, the way Dad advised. I wish I could figure out how to put it all behind me and concentrate on my duties. I’ve got a shitload of other things to occupy my mind.”

My buddy agreed. “As Flight Leader, you’re responsible for 499 other recruits. Their success is your success, and their failure is yours, too. And to top it off, in addition to your leadership role, you still have to pass all your own goddamn tests, and I know how much you want to fuckin ace them all.”

We drank and smoked in silence for a while.

Then Cal reminded me, “Graduation is only two weeks away, and it’s obvious you’re in line to be promoted to Airman Second Class, skipping ahead of the rest of us who’ll start out at Third Class. It puts even more pressure on you to prove your leadership skills.”

I had to agree. “Goddammit, though, I can’t stop thinking about the poor sonofabitch. I didn’t know Larry Andersen, but he seemed like a decent guy."

I lowered my head for a moment and then looked up at my best friend. “Was he the victim of unfair accusations and mental abuse by his squad mates? Should I have done more to get him a fucking break? What would it have meant for my career?”

“I think Drucker hit the nail on the head—you squeaked through a shitty situation.”

“To tell you the truth, Cal, I’m bothered by the way queer people are ostracized and mistreated, particularly in the military. Why couldn’t they serve their country like anyone else? Who has the right to reject or punish them, just for being who they are?”

“Come on, Bob, you’re not gonna change this fucked-up world. Your dad was right. You need to be true to yourself. Make this one of those ‘learning experiences’ the TIs are always talking about.”

He rested a hand on my shoulder. “Wrap it up and move on. You’ve got your whole goddamn life ahead of you. Don’t get hung up by one fucked-up event.”

I was dumbstruck by the logic of his words, and Cal burst out laughing. “Goddamn! I sound like somebody’s fuckin father. What do I know about the kind of shit you have to deal with? I’m nothing but a dumb Cajun from Louisiana and a goddamn grunt around here!”

********

Three days later, I was in the duty office again, and Cal burst in without knocking. He came up to my desk and stopped, breathing hard.

“What now?” I asked, exasperated.

“You’re not gonna fuckin like this.”

“I don’t like most of the shit you rush in here to tell me.”

“Andersen’s dead. The poor bastard killed hisself in his cell.”

A fucking iceberg as big as Antarctica crushed down on my whole body. I shivered, and the blood drained out of my head. The room spun, and I tried not to vomit. It didn’t work, and I leaned over the wastebasket and gagged.

“Shit, Bob, I’m sorry. I had to tell you. You were gonna hear about it somehow.”

I peered up at him, unable to speak. He came around my desk and put a hand on my trembling shoulder. The kind gesture nearly broke me.

“Come on, man. You fuckin tried to help him. It was out of your hands. You did the best you could.”

I shouted, “Then why is the motherfucker dead?” I felt the steel wall of my defenses raise with a resounding clang. If Cal wasn’t my best friend in the whole goddam world, I would have ordered him out of my office.

He tried to sympathize. “I guess it was too damn much for him. Guys like him are weak.”

“Guys like what? Queers? They’re all weak? You know what bullshit that is?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s who they are. Maybe they don’t choose it. But it fuckin catches up with them sometimes, and it’s just the way the world is.”

I took a deep breath, straightened up, and nodded to my best friend. “Thank you for informing me, Airman. That’ll be all for now.”

He took a step back and stiffened. “Yes, Sir, Flight Leader.”

He paused at the door. “I’ll see you later, Bob. Try to—” He shook his head. “Fuck, I don’t know what.”

My internal barrier lowered a few millimeters. This was my best friend trying to put me at ease. “I know what you mean. And thanks again, Cal. I’ll be OK.”

I sat there for a long time. No one else came to disturb me.

Then the phone rang. It was the base operator. “Colonel Stimson for you, Sir.”

I guess Dad had heard the news, too.

“Hello, Dad.”

His words were like a knife through my heart. “Bobby, Teddy’s been arrested.”

“Shit! How? Why?”

I could hear the pain in my father’s voice. “He was at that goddamn drive-in movie, and he was caught having sex...with a man.”

********

Apparently, Dad also called General Wright and told him about Teddy because Sergeant Drucker strode into my office fifteen minutes later.

“Here’s a three-day pass, Stimson. You’re going home for a break.”

“You know why, Sir?” I suspected that the general told him but hoped I was wrong.

“I do.” His voice was flat.

“Some fucking break. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He looked at me for a moment and then stated, “You’re gonna show leadership and the same kind of thinking you used with Andersen.”

“With a different outcome, I hope.”

He nodded. “No doubt about that. Your father will see to it.”

I packed a few things and hopped a cab to the San Antonio International Airport. Being only a lowly recruit, I didn’t qualify for the Air Force to offer me a free ride on a military flight.

I was in my service dress uniform of a light blue short-sleeved shirt and dark blue pants. The airline invoked “Military Courtesy” and upgraded me to First Class. Still, I wasn’t in any mood to enjoy the luxury.

I was in Tennessee by evening.

The plane landed outside Knoxville because Oak Ridge only had a small civilian airfield that was enlarged to accommodate the bigwigs who came in on private planes to see the atomic factories. However, all commercial aviation went in and out of McGhee Tyson Airport in Alcoa, twenty miles south of the city.

Dad met me in the terminal with the standard exchange of greetings, and since I had no luggage, we were in the car in minutes. Everything I would need for three days was still at home. We spent the drive mostly in silence.

I finally mustered my courage and asked, “Is Teddy all right?” I didn’t want to set off the whole tirade I feared was coming, but I had to at least check on my brother’s welfare.

Dad’s voice was resigned. “He spent the night in jail. We met with an attorney this afternoon.”

I turned to face him. “And?”

He shrugged. “The DA wanted to charge him as an adult, but the lawyer talked him out of it. He’ll be charged with public indecency as a juvenile and receive a suspended sentence with probation.”

I was relieved, but my father’s terse reply worried me. “What the fuck happened, Dad? Is it true?”

Dad’s voice was bitter. “You’ll have to ask your brother.”

“I take it the two of you aren’t speaking.”

He shook his head. “Not much at the moment.”

I tried to help. “That’s not like you, Dad. You usually have plenty to say to us, and nine times out of ten it’s the words we fucking need to hear.”

He cleared his throat. This was an emotional moment for him. “I can’t say anything right now, Son. Maybe later on. You’ll have to give me time.”

“You got it, Dad.”

The half-hour trip back home seemed like it took three times as long. We entered the house without a word. Dad grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and his pack of cigarettes and went out on the patio. I made my way up to the room I shared with my brother for most of my life.

I found Teddy stretched out on his bed smoking.

“Dad lets you smoke in the house?”

Stone-faced, he spoke harshly, “Fuck Dad. I’ll do what I fuckin want.”

“Cut the crap, Bro.”

My brother sat up on the side of his bed and stared out the window. In a second, his hard-ass defiance melted, and he turned and looked at me like the little boy I had grown up with.

His tears started flowing. “I did the worst thing I’ve ever done in my whole fucking life.”

“Listen, Teddy, if that was the worst thing you’ll ever do in life, you’re getting off easy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I grimaced. “I’m learning how to load goddamn atom bombs into an airplane, so they can take and fucking drop ’em on a city and wipe out thousands of people in seconds.”

There’s no fucking way I’m gonna tell him about Larry Andersen!

My brother sobbed, “But I fucked up, Bobby. I ruined my goddamn life.”

I sat next to him. “It can’t be all bad, Bro. You got probation. You’re a juvenile, so the record will be sealed.”

“Big goddamn deal. Everybody knows! They’re gonna fuckin hate me. I can’t go back to school.”

“Whoa. Slow down. What is it you think they all know?”

He turned to me with fire in his eyes. “That I’m a goddamn queer!”

“Are you?”

He lowered his head as if he couldn’t look me in the eyes and choked on his words. “Fuck if I know.”

“Then what the hell happened?”

The expression on his face made it clear he didn’t want to tell me the details. I tried to encourage him. “Come on, Teddy. If everybody already knows, which I doubt, then it can’t hurt to tell me.”

He sighed, cleared his throat, and faced away from me, speaking to the wall. “I was in the library, using the research department to study some books on particle physics.”

“I won’t even pretend to know what the fuck that is.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure I do, either, but it’s important here in Oak Ridge.”

He took a deep breath. “Anyway, this sonofabitch sees what I’m reading and comes over to talk to me. Turns out he’s a fuckin senior research physicist at the Lab and was surprised a kid my age was into that subject. It blew my mind!”

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Let me guess. He started talking to you, and he was nice and friendly. He complimented you on your intelligence, dedication to learning, or maybe your hot body.”

“Bobby, I was a dumb shit. I fell for it all. He wanted to take me to his apartment, but I refused, so we went to Grayson’s.”

“And somehow you two ended up in the back row at Grayson’s Drive-in with your pants down around your ankles and his mouth on your cock.”

His face turned a deep red, and he sighed. “It’s worse than that, Bobby.”

“Holy shit! You were fucking him in the ass?”

He shook his head. “Worse.”

I was stymied. “What the hell could be worse than that?”

Teddy whispered, “He was fucking me.”