That night, on the way home from the hospital, with Joel lying on the back seat and Tom squeezed in beside him, crouched on the floorboard, Tom had said, “Joel, you’ve got to quit going to that school. We can move to Las Cruces or something until you finish.” Eva and Douglas agreed, and told Joel to listen to Tom.
But Joel had managed to laugh and hug Tom to him. “Not on your life. I’ve got a right to be there and nobody’s going to make me run away.”
But Joel consented, reluctantly, to have Tom drive him to school and pick him up in the afternoons after that. And Tom thought, hopefully, that Joel had finally come to his senses, had finally seen the wisdom of laying low. But one night at dinner with Bill and JoAnna, Joel had broken down completely and cried, “They made me give in, Coach. I wanted to be back on the team!” Tom saw that it was a matter of shame for Joel to have been beaten, to have been made to quit, and it was only after a long session with the coach that Joel seemed to recover some of his pride.
To other suggestions Tom made for staying out of trouble, though, Joel would not bend. He insisted that they always go together when they had business in town. “You’re crazy, Tom, if you think I’m going to let you go by yourself!”
“But people won’t even notice me!” Tom insisted. A few times, Tom had gone with Eva and Sally Ann during the day, but twice in a row, Eva had been embarrassed by some loudmouth, and although she tried to hide it from him, Tom saw how it bothered her and he began refusing her offer, saying that Joel wanted to go later. But together, they attracted even more attention. In the grocery store, as they moved up and down the aisles filling their basket, people would stop and stare the same way they would have at an interracial couple in their midst.
Tom often thought of what Pete had said one day about the town being violent under its pretty surface. Because Common was a small town, it didn’t matter where they went—someone would recognize them, someone who knew the rumor might come up to them and make some pointed remark. Tom had thought the teasing, the fights would never end. He knew what Joel was trying to do, being so defiant. It was a matter of pride. The example Joel always used to explain himself was Leo Johnson. “He never fights back. He gets teased and I don’t see where crying helps. Look how damned nervous he is, how wrecked he looks!” And on that issue, Tom admitted that Joel’s attitude had some basis. Joel was the first in the family to point out the news specials on the television. “That guy.” he said proudly of Martin Luther King, Jr., “has got his whole race on the march! That’s pride, man!” Eventually, Tom admitted that Joel was right. The reckless, constant teasing at school stopped almost completely—at least, where Joel was concerned. There were students, boys and girls, who secretly passed Joel notes in the hallways, which simply read, “Thank you!” There were telephone calls from nervous people who wouldn’t give their names, wanting to talk to Joel. Joel would get off the telephone beaming, “Man! That was a woman, who said she was a homosexual!” Or he would shake his head sadly and say, “That was a married guy. He says he’s like us, and he wanted me to tell him what to do about it.” Leo Johnson had finally come over one night, keeping Joel and Tom up into the wee hours of the morning spilling his life story, crying, then going away knowing (they hoped) that he did have friends who shared something in common. And Joel and Tom would go to bed, holding each other, amazed that even in Common they were not unique.
At home, the Reeces were a happy, busy family, and the trouble they had on the outside from the community only bound them closer. Patrick and Detrick admired their new older brothers, and when Douglas and Eva had tried to explain the special friendship between Tom and Joel, the twins had only shrugged. No one knew if the twins understood what they’d been told, but their adoration of Tom and Joel didn’t diminish; their constant willingness to do what their older brothers wanted only increased as the summer ended and school began. When the fights had begun, Patrick and Detrick quickly made it clear, when they jumped in to help Joel, that if you messed with him, you answered to them, too. Henry, Jr. and Sally Ann were too young to understand. But the four adults decided that Tom and Joel should act naturally around them, which meant only that they would sit together on the couch on those evenings they spent with the rest of the family. Or sometimes, one of the little ones might see them kissing if they burst into their house without knocking. Eva and Douglas admitted that, to outsiders, they might appear lax on the children’s behalf in appearing to condone the relationship between their son and Tom. It was true the Stroud children would grow up far different from the mold that had been cast for them, but it had been broken by the death of the rest of their family, and no one could deny that their new life with the Reeces was far richer and healthier.
Tom’s life was richer with the Reece family, as well, and he often felt a close affection for the Stroud children, because they had lost their parents, too. He would go days, possibly weeks, without thinking of his mother and father. Then, suddenly, there they would be coming out of the same grocery store he and Joel were going into. At times, Tom would want to march right up to them, say hello, and ask them why they had had to disown him. At other times, his heart would leap into his throat when he saw them, and he could barely make himself look in his parents’ direction.
Today, especially, Tom’s heart leaped to his throat when the bus stopped. Joel had decided with his old defiance to ride the school bus on his last day. Tom was afraid that Joel would be hassled since it was the last day and the last time guys like Nicky would get a chance to tease him. But as he watched Henry, Jr., and the twins bound happily off ahead of Joel, he began to relax. The crowded bus was noisy, and Tom heard a few half-hearted catcalls, but none of the Reece boys paid attention. He craned his head around the twins, who had scooped up Sally Ann as they came off the bus, and saw that Joel was talking to the bus driver. Joel shook hands with him and came lightly down the steps. He was smiling strangely as he walked up to Tom. He put his hands on Tom’s waist, then turned back to look at the students on the bus, peering through the windows. Many of them began yelling and hooting. Joel turned back to Tom, his face goofy and grinning and, without warning, kissed Tom on the mouth in front of them. The screaming ended abruptly and a shocked silence settled over that one moment in the afternoon, broken quickly by the sound of the bus gears grinding as the bus moved off down the road.
Patrick and Detrick laughed a little nervously but considered it good fun. “You’re crazy, Joel!” Patrick said. “You could’ve caused an accident!” Then he laughed and pushed Joel’s shoulder.
Joel laughed and said good-naturedly, “Hope I didn’t ruin your chances with Donna.” But Tom could feel that he was trembling slightly.
“Naw,” Patrick said, grinning sheepishly. “She doesn’t like me anyway.”
The twins, Sally Ann, and Henry, Jr. went into the big house, and Tom and Joel continued walking toward their home. Joel sighed and held Tom close. He was sweaty against Tom. Tom noticed he had lost too much weight during the school year and the strain of the last year showed in his face. Above his left eye, the scar from a broken bottle thrown at him from a passing car once in town would never go away. It had cut his left eyebrow in half and gave Joel’s face a perpetually curious expression, but Tom thought his beauty had only increased now, tempered as it was by the maturity in his features. “Thank goodness that’s over,” Joel said.
“School?”
“Yeah. You notice I don’t have any books? You wanna know why?” And without waiting for an answer, he said, “You should’ve seen my locker. It was trashed. Someone smeared it with shit. Human shit! And the lock was broken and my things were torn up and pissed on.”
Tom hugged him closer. “Well, I figured somebody would do something on the last day. It’s over except for graduation ceremonies, but surely people wouldn’t—”
Joel pulled a folded-up sheet of paper from his back pocket and slapped it into Tom’s hand. “Nope. We don’t have to worry about that.” He flicked the paper. “I got my d
iploma early. Whitman said he couldn’t have me cause a disruption at the ceremonies.”
Tom sighed. “Well, I can believe it. You were too proud to stay out of fights at school. People just wanted to see you give in, then shut up, but you wouldn’t.”
“I know. I couldn’t and still live with myself. But don’t you feel better, standing up for yourself?” Joel laughed and squeezed him. “I get tickled thinking of the way you handled the draft board. I wouldn’t have thought the way you feel embarrassed sometimes that you’d ask the board if you could take your boyfriend with you!”
“Yeah, they thought I was being smart with them at first, and they sent me to the psychiatrist. There were a few other guys who said they were homosexual. It was interesting to see which guys the psychiatrist believed.”
They walked slowly up the walkway. In the last year, much of the undergrowth had been cleared away and Tom had managed to get a lawn started. This afternoon, he had borrowed lawn sprinklers from Eva, and they were sending up fans of spray the colors of the rainbow in the slanting sunlight. “Coming home always gives me a thrill,” Joel said. He opened the gate to their yard. “You’ve got this place looking like heaven!”
“Thanks, Joel.” Tom looked around proudly at the yard and the small trees. Sitting up on the side of the hill, their house looked out over the Reeces’ farm. Often they had breakfast on the porch watching the sunrise, and during warm weather they often slept there. As they neared the porch, the gentle perfumes of herbs and flowers greeted them.
Tom made Joel pull off his clothes and relax in the easy chair on the porch. He brought him a light robe to cover with. “I’ve got a pleasant surprise.” He handed Joel a thick envelope. “I haven’t opened it yet because it’s addressed to both of us…see?”
The address read, “Messrs. Tom and Joel Allen-Reece.” Joel squinted at the return. “P.T.? Who’s that?”
“It’s from San Francisco,” Tom said. “Remember Pete?” Joel grinned. “Well, I’ll be!” He tore open the envelope and spread the letter out on his lap. He held up his arm and Tom slid onto the easy chair against him. “Read it to me,” Joel said.
Tom took the letter and read Pete’s story, which unfolded much as his had. When the preacher had recovered from the shock of having Tom refuse his demands and had kicked him out, he polled the other parents to find out what kind of activity there had been among the other teenagers. Many of the young men of the church were suspected of being infected with the contagion, by which he meant any he found to be in support of Tom. It could only mean one thing. The other “disciples” had managed to clear themselves of the whole matter. They had also denied being part of Paul’s plan. Only Pete had confessed to being Tom’s friend, but that was enough for the preacher. He counseled Pete’s parents to send him to the retreat in Georgia, and when Pete had refused to go, his parents had attempted other means to discipline him. One night, he just disappeared from Common.
Pete’s tone was rushed, as though he had too much to say and couldn’t write fast enough. When Tom had read about three pages, he stopped and looked at Joel. “Poor kid.”
Joel nodded and pinched Tom’s leg. “Don’t stop reading.”
.
..so I hung out at the truckstop for almost twenty-four hours before a trucker finally agreed to take me. I had to convince him I wasn’t a twelve-year-old (ha! ha!) before he would let me hitch a ride. But it turns out, well, we made it together in his truck! Guys, I tell you I loved it! It was my first time, and it was as good and as delicious as I always dreamed it would be! He was helpful too. He set me up with some friends of his in SF and told them to take good care of me. I just finished high school and will be starting in college. I’m still living with this male couple, the friends of the trucker. His name is “Blue,” by the way. Anyway, I wondered how things are back there. I hope you both write.
Now for the lecture…
Tom and Joel laughed as they read that. Tom stood up. “If we’re going to be lectured, I’d better check the roast.” Joel got up, pulled on the robe, and followed Tom into the kitchen. “Anything you want me to do? I don’t like being waited on, you know.”
Tom turned from the oven. “Supper’s all taken care of, but you can do the dishes.”
“Good,” Joel said. “Can I get us a snack before we eat?”
“You’re hungry?” Tom asked and smiled. “That’s a good sign. You’re feeling better?”
“Sure! Now that I’m free of school, I can get back to work like I’m supposed to.”
“And free of all that crap you’ve had dished out all year. I don’t see how you put up with it.”
“Because I had you to come home to every day,” Joel said, simply. He pulled Tom to him and hugged him hard. Joel’s body was so familiar that Tom knew just where to put his hands to make Joel melt. He squeezed there and Joel cried out against him. “Don’t,” he laughed, “you’ll make me come!” He pulled away.
Tom felt chills down his back. He shivered with pleasure. “Sorry, you just get to me. I can’t help it.”
Tom opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl. “Okay, Popeye, you can have a spinach salad.” He shoved the bowl into Joel’s stomach. Joel laughed and grabbed it. They made a table next to the easy chair on the porch. They climbed back into the chair together and Tom picked up the letter. He shook his head at the bite Joel held under his nose. “You eat, baby. I have a feeling that tonight you’ll need your strength.” He laughed and smoothed out the letter again.
“Let’s see…”
Pete lectured them endlessly, saying Common was a hick town. Saying they should leave. He could get them an apartment just down the block from where he lived. He described the neighborhood where all the “gay” men lived. He stressed that word. He said the men came out into the open, sometimes making love right there in the streets. He described the gay bars and told them of the bathhouses open all night where sex was free and open.
Living where you are, guys, you’re missing out. Things are happening out here you wouldn’t believe. And we have our own name! Don’t call yourselves “homosexual” any more; it’s like “nigger.” We’re “gay.” Say it: “GAY!”
Tom and Joel looked at each other. “Gay!” they said, and shrugged.
And you know what, guys? My other gay friends here say it’s astounding what you did—especially in that place—to come out and live openly. But I bet it’s been rough. There are a few areas of SF where gay bashing is popular, but for the most part you can be what you want. I can’t even begin to tell you what’s happening out here. People are changing all over; you can feel a tingle in the air. People are in the streets day and night. And oh, the lovemaking!
Tom read slowly to the end, then dropped the letter. Overall, Pete sounded happy and confident to them, though neither envied him his “free” love.
“Gay. I do like that better than homosexual,” Joel said.
Tom agreed. “It sounds clean and innocent. But I wonder if it’ll ever catch on.”
“Who knows?”
Joel’s face looked sad, and Tom brushed his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“You could have been a part of all that stuff Pete talks about,” Joel said in a flat voice, “if you’d gone on to college. I never cared myself because I like this farm and the work, but you have so much potential. It’s a waste for you, living here.”
Tom studied Joel’s face, feeling nothing but the pounding of love in his chest that had only increased month after month. “Sure, I could move out there to California; I could also live on the moon if I gave a shit. But without you, there’s no place, and nothing happening, any better than what we have right here. I don’t ever want to hear another word of regret! I have everything I want. We can go to college someday and maybe visit Pete.”
Tom got up and set out the roast and Joel set their table. They sat across from each other, and Tom said, “I think I will get a teaching certificate. I enjoy helping the twins and the children, you know? But fir
st, maybe we should cash in our savings and stay up in the mountains this summer—just us.”
Joel relaxed, finally. He had felt disturbed by Pete’s letter, feeling his old anxiety, feeling inadequate, thinking maybe Tom would get restless and want to move on. “Yeah, let’s do it. Maybe rent a cabin up in the Gila Wilderness.” He reached for a bowl of potatoes and smiled. “We’ll do it for our anniversary each year.”
“Okay, Joel,” Tom said seriously, then smiled. “As long as we always come back here.”
Afterword
In 1989 when Common Sons was first published by a small gay press in Austin, Texas, I was living back in my hometown of Deming, New Mexico. I was 41 years old and, by then, had served during the Vietnam war, had been married, had a son, was divorced, had finished my bachelor’s degree in English and philosophy, had subsequently worked on two different master’s programs—one in English/literature, the other in technical writing and computer science, and had limped home after another “divorce”—this time, fourteen years of “marriage” to another man.
In 1986, the story of Common Sons had begun to take shape in my mind. It was written, revised, sent to a master teacher of mine for no-holds-barred editing (she awarded “Fs” to student essays with just one sentence fragment, or five misspelled words), revised again, then sent off to publishers. It took over two years for this first novel of mine to be published. By the time it was published in 1989, as I said, I was living back in my hometown, busily at work on a sequel. I had always intended for my two main characters, Tom Allen and Joel Reece, to have one of those rare and wonderful relationships—a storybook love for each other that was deep and strong and tough enough to weather all kinds of storms that tore through society, from the 1960s to the 1990s.
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