by

Claye Canterwall

      It was Thursday…my day without a single class. I loved Thursdays. I put off everything I was supposed to do on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday until Thursday. It seemed like such a vast period of time: T H U R S D A Y. It stretched out forever. Anyway, I was busy doing what I did best on Thursdays, wasting the morning, when there was a knock on the door. This was very unusual because no one ever knocked. They just barged right in. So, usually we just kept the door unlocked, except for special occasions like when we were sleeping or when we weren't there. When we had it locked, we could tell if someone was there by the loud thud when they ran into the locked door and the amazing stream of curse words that followed. A knock was quite unusual. I thought it deserved an answer.
      Standing there was a well-dressed man in a nice suit. He was tall and dark complexioned…quite handsome actually. I'd guess his age to be, oh, around forty-five or so. His shoes were really shiny. You didn't see shiny shoes much in a college dorm. I was fascinated by my reflection in them. My reflection caused me to remember that I was standing there in front of this well-dressed stranger in a pair of dirty sweats and a dingy old t-shirt.
      "Excuse me." I was startled. I had become quite transfixed by my image in the nice shiny shoes.
      "Oh, I'm sorry. May I help you?"
      "I'm looking for my son, Tom Anders. Is this his room?" Holy shit, it was Mr. Anders, Tom's dad. What a way to meet him. Maybe if I just said I'd never heard of him and slammed the door…. No, that wouldn't work. How about telling him that I was homeless and that this nice college boy had allowed me to sleep here last night? No, that was a bad idea too.
      "Yes, this is his room. I'm his roommate." Honesty was the best policy, I hoped.
      "Oh, Bill?
      "Yes."
      "Well, may I come in, Bill?"
      Do you remember your college dorm room? Now remember it on its worst day. Remember it on that day before you realized that no human being could live there and survive the experience…the day before you just dove in with a snorkel and cleaned up. This was that day.
      "Sure, Mr. Anders, come on in." I felt maybe five years old…six if I stretched it. He looked around trying to find a place to sit down. I picked up a pair of dirty underwear off the chair by Tom's desk and threw it on the bed. He really didn't want to sit anywhere, but that was his only choice. He sat carefully.
      "Do you know when Tom will be back?"
      "Around noon, I think. Tommy has class all morning on Thursdays."
      "You call him Tommy?"
      "Yeah."
      "And he lets you?"
      "He doesn't seem to mind."
      "He hasn't let us call him that since he was twelve."
      "Well, he doesn't seem to mind when I call him that."
      "Hmmm…interesting."
      At that moment Steven came bounding in the door, no doubt to ask to borrow something. He never seemed to have anything of his own and always needed something of ours. Without thinking about it and with a look of horror on his face he said, "Holy shit!" He stopped in his tracks and just stared.
      "Why, hello, Steven. How are you?"
      "Uncle Jim...fine, I think. How are you?"
      "Great. I just happened to be here on business this morning and thought I'd stop by and take Tom to lunch. Would you like to join us?"
      "Uh, no, Uncle Jim. I, uh, have a class and I, uh, just can't afford to miss it."
      "Well, that's too bad, Steven. I was hoping to get to visit with both of you."
      "Sorry."
      At that moment, and like a steam roller out of the blue, ole Moose comes bounding into the room. Of course, he misses Mr. Anders entirely and before either one of us can stop him he says, "Stevie, sweetie, I have to run to the drug store, do you need me to pick up anything for you, babe?"
      The room was silent. Steve moved his eyes towards the chair by the desk. Moose slowly and carefully turned his head to see the strange man in the suit sitting in the chair surrounded by Cheeto bags, dirty socks and underwear. Moose was sweet and smart but subtle he was not.
      "Oh, hello." He said in a suddenly deep and manly voice, causing me to stifle a laugh. " I'm Moose."
      "Hello, Moose. I'm Tom's dad, Jim."
      "Nice to meet you." And then, still in his manly voice, he turned to Steven and said, "Well, then, Steven, I'll see you in about a half hour if that meets with your expectations."
      Steve mustered a feeble, "Good-bye, Moose." And Moose walked out of the room in his very most masculine manner. We listened as his heavy steps disappeared down the hallway.
      Mr. Anders looked up at Steven. "Stevie, sweetie?"
      "Oh, Moose is just like that. He's just a big ole dummy. He talks to everyone like that. Everyone's a sweetie or a honey or a babe to him."
      "And he's still alive? I don't care how big he is. If he had done that when I was in college, they'd have found him in an alley somewhere."
      That's the first time it hit me. Call me slow. Tommy's dad didn't know. Tommy, the same Tommy who had known he was gay since he was a little boy had never told his family. His dad had no idea who I was really or that Tommy and I were lovers and that we were going to be together forever. He didn't know Steven was gay either, although I didn't know how anyone could have missed that. Steven could have been the gay poster boy he was so stereotypical. Nope, Mr. Anders had no idea. Shit, Tommy, what a fine mess this is. Well, I would help him keep up his façade. I would be this person that the college flung at him for no other reason than that we were alphabetically compatible. We would be friends, but not particularly close ones. I could do that. I did my best to convey my plans to Steven. He seemed to understand.
      "Well, I think I'd better get a shower and get out of here. I don't want to be late for my class. How about you, Steve?"
      "Uh, yeah, you're right, Bill. Dr. Hannigan hates it when someone walks in late. I'll just go get my stuff together. Pick me up when you're ready?"
      "Sure." He left. "Well, Mr. Anders, it's been great meeting you. Tom should be back any time now. I don't want to be rude, but I do have that class to get to." I started to gather up my things to go down the hall to the bathroom.
      "Dad!" Oh, no...Tommy…. This would be interesting. I couldn't wait to see my little Tommy navigate this situation.
      "Hi, Tom, it's good to see you, son." They shook hands patted each other on the back and Mr. Anders sat back down.
      "You, too, Dad. Sorry about the room. Wil…er Bill and I were going to clean it as soon as I got back from class today. I'm sorry you got here before we had that chance. We don't live like this all the time, you know."
      "I hope not. I just saw Steven."
      "Oh, did you get a chance to talk?"
      "No, not really. And some big guy named Moose came in, calling everyone sweetie and honey and things. Do you know this guy?"
      "Moose? Sure. He's a great guy."
      "And he calls other guys, sweetie?"
      "Uh, Dad…."
      I think I thought, "Oh, shit, here it comes." And I didn't want to be there. Telling your dad that you're gay in the middle of a room full of Cheeto bags and underwear was bad enough, but telling your dad that you're gay in the middle of a room full of Cheeto bags and underwear with your lover standing by the bed in his dirty sweats and t-shirt would be almost too much to take. I would make a break for the door and let them share this tender moment by themselves. I grabbed my stuff and headed out.
      "No, wait, Ace." He had said that. I had heard him. He had said, "No wait, Ace." What did that mean? Would I wait? I don't think so. Would I desert my lover in his hour of need? Yep. That's what I would do all right. Desertion would definitely be my plan of action. Out of my way, gay boy. This body is heading for the showers! And I did try.
      "Ace, please." Shit. I loved him. I couldn't do it. I sat down on the bed. Tommy cleared off the other desk chair and sat down facing his father. This was going to hurt…all of us…real bad. I picked up half a cheeto that was laying on the bed and ate it.
      "Dad, you know I love you." Silence. His dad started to cry. Right there in his pressed dark suit and those polished shoes, tears were running down his cheeks. I didn't think I was going to be able to take it. I loved him too much. I even loved his father too much. God, it hurt already and no one had even said anything. And then Tommy started to cry. And you know what I did. I always do. Tommy just walked over to his dad, knelt down in front of him and put his head in his lap. Mr. Anders put his hands on Tommy's head and bent down and kissed him on the top of the head and then just laid his head on top of Tommy's holding him and crying. All I could do was watch and hurt. Oh, my god, how it hurt.
      I don't know how long they stayed like that. I guess it was long enough to cry a lifetime's worth of hurt out and then reconnect some way. I could feel it happening. It wasn't something you could see exactly, but it was definitely something you could feel. These were two men who loved each other so deeply and each was being forced to reevaluate and reform a relationship with the other in a matter of minutes. I truly hoped that my presence would have no bearing on anything. Life at these times should be raw…had to be raw if healing was to occur.
      Mr. Anders lifted Tommy up and as he did so, stood up with him. He kissed Tommy on the lips as you would a young boy and drew him close and then held him there. It would be the last time this would happen between father and little boy. He just held him like, if he let him go, he could never get him back, and he was right. At the moment he let Tommy go, things would never be quite the same. Tommy would go from being his bright, athletic straight little boy, to being his bright, athletic young son, who happened to be gay. And that's what happened. Mr. Anders let Tommy go, kissed him again, this time on the cheek, grabbed a Kleenex and wiped Tommy's eyes with it.
      "I knew." He said. "I've known for a long time. I just couldn't let myself know. Do you understand?
      "Yeah, Dad, I understand."
      "I don't know why I cried, really. I don't love you any less. You're still my Tommy and you always will be. It's just that…."
      "Don't try to explain, Dad. I know."
      "I just don't want you to think that it makes a difference. It doesn't. I think I just hurt so much for you, not for me. I don't know what you've been through, or how I could have helped or…."
      "Dad, please stop. It's out now. We've both known, but couldn't let go of what we thought it was going to be. But it really never was, was it?"
      "No, I guess not. But it wouldn't have made a difference, Tommy. It would never have made a difference."
      "I know that, Dad. I've always known that. I just didn't want to ever have to let go of the dream. Now, there's someone I want you to meet. Willie…."
      I walked slowly over to the two of them.
      "Dad, this is Willie. I love him. I love him more than anything I've ever loved in my whole life. We're going to be together forever, so you might as well start learning to love him too. He's so darn cute, it's impossible not to."
      With that, Mr. Anders said, "Come here, Willie." And pulled me in and the three of us hugged and cried together. I don't think I ever met a man I respected more than I respected Jim at that particular moment. I suddenly understood why Tommy was the wonderful man he was.
      The outwardly emotional part was over. Tom would cry from time to time after that, but not much and not for long periods. I'm sure Mr. Anders had his moments, too, like when he broke the news to Mrs. Anders. Tom said that he didn't think that that would be too tough because his mom had caught him fooling around with another kid when he was in high school and she was smart enough to put two and two together. He thought that she would be relieved just to have everything out in the open.
      Steve didn't go to lunch with Mr. Anders that day, but Tommy and I did. Mr. Anders wanted to know all about me and my family. He seemed to really care. As for Steven, Mr. Anders said that he had always thought that Steven was probably gay, but that having the Jolly Green Giant call Steven "Sweetie" had just about blown him off the desk chair.
      Our love making was sacred that night. That's the only way to describe it. Our nakedness was somehow different. We were no longer in our dorm room, but somewhere else…somewhere in the open, in the moonlight, where the gods looked down upon us. This night's loving was a ritual during which we pledged our souls. When we touched, we touched more than just our skin, but somewhere deep inside. Each touch seemed to be another truth uncovered and another promise made that could never be broken. Tommy had somehow been freed by the shedding of the last vestige of what had once been his shame. We were. We loved. Something stronger than we could understand had brought us together and we were one. I loved Tommy that night and felt loved by him in a way that changed my life forever. I could never go back. The part of me that gives and receives love had been opened wide and understood that this was the sole reason for life.
      Tommy's body was wonderful. We were each a sacred gift we gave to one another. I would love him forever.

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