Mild to Wild in Massachusetts

by Paul Walkingsky

  “You must be so proud.” I smiled.

  “Hey—they’re a lot of work, but they guarantee a steady supply of blow jobs.”

  “Always the romantic,” Karl said before taking another sip of his coffee. Jared saw someone else and headed off. “Nice guy once you get to know him, but he has the attention span of a fruit fly.”

  “The guy who told me to come here said it wasn’t an orgy.”

  “Oh, believe me, that’s not the focus. It’s just that horndog is Jared’s default setting. He does it without thinking.” He had a little more of his coffee. “Oh, right. Since you’re not experienced, it must feel as if people like Jared are speaking in code.”

  “I think it’s more that I understand the code from a lifetime of television, books, and movies.”

  “You do understand European royals don’t choose a mate using a glass slipper, or that witches don’t really live in gingerbread houses while waiting to eat a pizza delivery boy, right? Trust me, while I may not be the biggest condom in the drawer, I’ve been around enough to know getting it on isn’t always like a porn flick. God knows it’s not like a porn flick. Life isn’t a rom-com. You end up getting someone else’s script rattling around in your mind, and then you get frustrated when your partner isn’t using the same script.”

  I smiled. “Sounds like you should be leading a workshop.”

  “Nah, I never wanna be on stage that way. I enjoy being in the audience.”

  “You like to watch?” I felt I was still in a movie. The me I was used to wouldn’t say things like that.

  “Whoa, bro—you may be a late bloomer, but you haven’t just been sitting in a corner while polishing your halo.”

  “Is halo what you call it in Boston?”

  “I think I like you,” he laughed. “A lot of guys who look like you never bothered to develop a personality and a sense of humor.”

  “I didn’t always look like this.” I finished off my tea. “And as I’ve admitted to you, I’ve never done much, even after devoting a lot of time to look like this. It’s all new to me.”

  “Brett!” Walter came up with a guy, who if you looked up “silver fox” in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of him. “This is Hunter. He works with the Body Electric I was telling you about.” Hunter shook my hand and gave a nod to Karl. His hand felt so soft.

  “Ever had a massage before?” Hunter’s voice was so deep, windows probably rattled when he spoke. His voice was amazing. I was expecting my shoelaces to untie themselves. I didn’t trust my voice and shook my head. “Then I hope to see you tomorrow. I know Walter will be there.” He nodded again at Karl, and they wandered off to another small group, where people took turns hugging Hunter.

  “Lots of hugs around here,” I said.

  “You know, one of the things that really struck me during a dance here was a man saying he had never touched another man without being drunk,” Karl said. “There are a lot of guys who were raised to never touch another man. So they get drunk, they get high. They get to touch another guy, or to be more precise, they get their rocks off. One of the things you learn in a retreat like this is that not everyone needs sex all the time. Sometimes you just need to be held. Sometimes you just need to feel acknowledged.” He took a small step closer to me and spoke more softly. “Not all the guys who come here will ever know what it’s like to look like you. I’m not stupid. I won’t look like a cute twink forever. I know one day I’ll just look like a better-dressed version of my father—not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I’ve met guys here who were so afraid of rejection that they’ve never risked reaching out. They were never hugged. By the time they came out, most other men were busy looking at people like me, or Jared—or you. They came out, but they stayed invisible. Untouched. Hugs can be a healing thing. I grew up in the Catholic Church. At one point in the service, the priest calls for the Sign of Peace, and then even strangers reach out and hug you. There’s a reason why that’s part of the religion.”

  I looked at Karl, but I was seeing Walter. I wondered what it would be like to have to wait to touch another man once or twice a year. Hell, I hadn’t even had that. How many years had it been since Jimmy in the backseat? Did I even get to touch the guy at my aunt’s birthday party before I took a quick trip to Barf City? God, who was I to pity Walter?

  “Last year I ran across an article on elderly women. I’m a nurse. I see a lot of older people. According to the article, for a lot of women over the age of sixty-five, their husbands are already dead. The only physical contact they have at all is during the Sign of Peace once a week.” He brushed my cheek with his fingertips. “The Native American facilitator from last year—he said, ‘You can see without being seen. You can hear without being heard. But you can never touch someone without being touched yourself.’ I think about that a lot. I think about him a lot.”

  “I think I like you,” I said. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I should say anything. “So, you’re a nurse, huh?”

  “Yeah, I always wanted to help other people. When I was a freshman, I met a nun. Did I mention I grew up Catholic? I was just glad to meet a nun who didn’t carry a wooden ruler she wasn’t afraid to use on my knuckles. Sister Lucy was on a mission. Like priests, nuns have a major population base that keeps getting older, and the number of initiates keeps getting lower, except in some of the third-world places. So many ancient nuns in poor health, needing someone to take care of them. So she was sent to major in gerontology. You mentioned you were raised by your grandparents. I wasn’t, but I spent a lot of my summers with mine. I’m still friends with Sister Lucy. She’s why I ended up with a degree in nursing and why I always think of her when I have older patients.”

  I heard someone nearby give a wolf whistle and looked around. For a split second I thought Eddie was standing there. “Well, helllloooooo, gorgeous! Can I count on you dropping by my Drag 101 class?” Not Eddie, but it looked like they shopped at the same makeup counter.

  “My lesbian aunt told me I’d make an ugly woman.”

  “Consider the source, sugar.” She leaned closer to me. With heels she was nearly seven feet tall. “Cheekbones you can use to slice cheese. Flawless complexion. Eyes that are just begging for guyliner. Sugar, you are going to be beautiful. It won’t matter what you wear. It’s like what RuPaul teaches us—we’re all born naked, and after that, it’s all drag.”

  Just like Eddie would have done, having dropped a great line, she made her exit.

  “This is an interesting place,” I said to Karl. “Want some more coffee?” We got a refill and then moved closer to the fire. I loved the smell of smoke. The moon had come out. It was the only thing that looked familiar. The fire here was several times larger than the one in my aunt’s backyard.

  Keith approached. “Mind if I join you?”

  I smiled, and he sat down on my other side.

  “Did the lost ones finally arrive?” Karl asked him.

  “Yeah, they’re still in the dining hall having something to eat.” Keith turned to me. “Doing all right so far?”

  “There’s a lot to take in,” I said, “but I’m really glad I’m here. The trip has been a real learning experience for me, and I’ve only been away from Salt Lake for a matter of hours.”

  “I’m glad you’re here too. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to ask. As I tell my patients and students—if you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”

  I grinned. My whole career was based on patients asking after being told no. I understood I had spent a lot of my own life thinking the answer would always be no. I was starting to feel tired. At first I thought it was just emotional exhaustion, but I was accustomed to going to bed early, and there was a two-hour time difference.

  “You look like you’re starting to fade,” Keith said gently. “Sometimes we need some downtime to process new things, or familiar things we see in a new way.”

  “Let me walk you back to your cabin,” Karl said. “I forgot
to remind you when you dropped off your luggage to bring the flashlight it was suggested you pack. I know where things are, so you won’t need to be tripping over roots or stumbling over stones.” I nodded. I stood up at the same time Keith did. I hugged him. I could get used to this.

  My cabin was a little farther away than most. “Look,” Karl whispered. He put his hand on my forearm and pointed to a nearby tree. I wondered what kind of tree it was. Then I realized what he wanted me to see. A single firefly sparkled in the distance, wandering in the drunken manner of a butterfly. Then a second joined it. Then a third. I could hear Karl’s sharp intake of breath. A moment later a cloud of them swirled from behind my cabin and danced.

  “I’ve never seen a firefly before,” I whispered. It was like we were in a great church and we had to keep our voices low because we were in the presence of something sacred. Or we should sing because we were in the presence of something holy. I had read about fireflies—about lightning bugs—but I had never expected to see one before. And now the air was full of them, like tiny stars, soft beacons.

  “Last year I was standing near here with the Native American facilitator I keep mentioning,” Karl said. “His voice was so gentle I leaned closer to him to listen as he told me:

  “Long and long ago, before the world turned upside down, a lightning bug arrived. A monster saw him and tried to grab him. He flew away, terrified. The next day he returned and the monster chased him again. He flew to safety. This continued. On the fourth day, the poor lightning bug was exhausted. The monster rushed after him. But the beautiful insect stopped and flew back toward the monster.

  “You have the ability to kill me,” the firefly said. “May I ask you some questions before I die?”

  “No one has asked me questions before. What do you want to know?”

  “Do you see me as food?”

  “No,” said the monster.

  “Have I ever done anything that has harmed you in any way where you seek revenge upon me?”

  “No,” said the monster.

  “Then why do you seek to harm me?”

  “Because your light offends me.”

  Karl put his arm around me. Because I was leaning over, our heads were touching. “There will always be people who will try to make you feel bad because you shine. They will try to steal your light, your hopes, your love—or if they can’t steal what you are, they will try to extinguish your light. You always have a choice. You can extinguish your own light to hide from them. Or you can shine all the brighter and learn to stand up to those who would hurt you for being who you are—how the Creator made you. You always have a choice.”

  I kissed him. I pulled him through my door. “A flight attendant presented me with a bottle of champagne when I was getting off the plane to come here. Would you like some?”

  Karl looked at me. I felt as if I was being examined. “Not now. When I agreed to volunteer, I promised I’d respect Keith’s desire for a ‘clean’ event. So the better answer is—I’m not telling you no, but I’m telling you not now. You mentioned you’d be coming back to Boston. Maybe it’s better if we enjoy it there instead of here.”

  “I didn’t know about a no-alcohol rule.”

  He sat down on my bed. “You’ve obviously tried hard to be honest with me. Let me return the favor. I think you’re hot. I’d love to see what you have under those clothes.” He patted the space beside him, and I sat down. “When I was first in college, I met Lewis. He made me melt. All I could do was fantasize what it would be like to be with him. And he said ‘No.’ He told me he was greatly complimented by my interest. But he said I was too inexperienced. He didn’t want to be the one to pop my cherry.” He had been looking off into the distance, but now he turned to look at me. “I thought I had my cherry popped when I was fifteen. But now that I’m older I know what he meant. I had only been with guys who were as inexperienced as I was. He wanted a lover. He wanted a peer. He didn’t want a trainee. A newbie.”

  I didn’t like where this was heading.

  “A newbie—not so much in the physical sense, but in the emotional sense. He told me ‘Go sow your wild oats.’ He asked me to come back when I was older and I was really ready to be with him. He told me that’s how the man who would become his first lover had treated him when he was my age.”

  “So—nothing’s going to happen?”

  “I’m not telling you no. I’m telling you not now. You’re a virgin, Brett. You’ve been delaying an important part of your life for a very long time. You don’t have to rush into it now. You’re not even used to being hugged.” He pulled me closer and then pushed me to my side on the bed. “Now, I’m going to be the big spoon and you’re going to be the little spoon.” He put his arms around me and pulled me next to him, my butt cradled in his crotch. I felt his warm breath against the back of my neck. He kissed me there gently. I relaxed. I felt so safe, so comfortable. “Baby steps,” he whispered. “I’m a nurse. I volunteer in an HIV/AIDS clinic. I can’t tell you how many men I’ve met who finally came out and they were like a kid in a candy store. They were so focused on trying to catch up on all the time they felt they had wasted, they weren’t careful. They didn’t protect themselves. Not all of them became HIV positive. But all of them were seeing me because they now had a sexually transmitted disease. You’re still young. You don’t have to turn into Jared after one night in Massachusetts, no matter how magical the night has been for you so far.” He kissed me again. “You okay with that?”

  I squeezed his left hand with my right one. I closed my eyes and nodded. I felt so warm. I felt so—accepted. I opened my eyes and he was gone. I was so disoriented I nearly fell off the bed. I must have been more tired than I thought. I pulled out my phone. Local time was 4:00 a.m. I guess he left my cabin after I had fallen asleep. My life wasn’t a rom-com or I would have found a Post-it note and a rose on my pillow.

  I got up and stretched. I stepped outside, and there were still fireflies flitting about, but not as many as there had been. I knew their flashes were really mating calls. They were letting others know they were there. That they were available. That they were interested. I sat on the steps of my cabin. I was here. I was available. I was interested. I was still a virgin. I sat back. My first time with a guy. Maybe it shouldn’t necessarily be with the first available man. I sighed. I wondered how the virginity of a twenty-seven-year-old man stacked up against the virginity of a Molly Mormon. Girls were taught to save themselves for marriage. Well, at the same time I was being taught to be Peter Priesthood. I had been saving myself for a marriage to a Molly that was never going to happen. I got up and vaguely followed the few lingering fireflies. Aunt Lindsey married her girlfriend. I had never really thought about what it would be like to be married to a guy. In less than a day, I wondered what it would be like to be married to Karl, or married to Zach. I stopped. Maybe if I was so new to this I was fantasizing about two strangers I’d barely spent any time with, perhaps it was best I had fallen asleep alone. Maybe I wasn’t quite ready. In a few hours it would be sunrise.

  I heard something making the grass rattle. I held my breath. I followed the sound with my eyes, and a fox stepped into a streak of moonlight that filtered through my firefly tree. I had never seen a fox in real life, any more than I had run into fireflies before arriving in Massachusetts. It was adorable. Smaller than I would have expected. Suddenly it leaped up. All four of its tiny paws were up in the air. Then it dove down as if the grass were a pool. I heard an odd sound, and the fox’s head bobbed back up—it had a mouse. The fox threw its head back and the mouse was gone. It looked at me. I was being looked at a lot. I looked back. I smiled. With a flick of its thick tail, it disappeared into what was left of the night. I went back inside my cabin and waited for the true morning.

  Chapter Nine

  “OKAY,” HUNTER said in his deep voice, “I’ve given you the basics. Remember, we’re starting out with sensuality. If you pop a boner, that’s just natural, but it’s not our focus at the moment.
Fred and I will be moving back and forth to answer your questions or to help you with some of the movements.” We were all sitting on the floor. Hunter had spent the first few minutes talking about energy and respect. I felt uncomfortably warm. The thermostat seemed set much too high for the summer.

  “Now, here’s what we want you to do,” Fred said. He was a lot younger than Hunter. If Hunter was a silver fox, then Fred was a pup. A pup with all rounded edges. I wondered what it was like to touch someone who enjoyed food. I had never hugged my uncle George. I wondered what fat felt like. “We want you to stand up and form two lines facing each other. I’ve watched you trying to check each other out. You’re going to need a partner for the exercises we’re about to do. Stand in front of the person you think you’d like to pair up with.”

  There was a lot of shuffling. A lot of eye contact. I had seen Karl briefly when he came into the dining hall during breakfast as I was leaving. He had mouthed “kitchen duty” and grinned. Walter was front and center. I didn’t know any of the others. I had noticed a couple of them during dinner. While I was thinking, a man who looked like my mail carrier stepped in front of me and smiled shyly. What was left of his hair had once been blond. It looked like I might find out what fat felt like. I glanced around and saw that the two lines had already formed.

  “Fine,” Hunter said. “Now—this is important. I want each one of you to take one step to your left.” Mr. Mail Carrier’s eyes went as round as his belly. I stepped to my left and fell into the eyes of someone who looked younger than Karl. I couldn’t quite place his ethnicity. He might have Chinese or Japanese heritage. I was from Utah. I didn’t know. He was cute. He didn’t look shy. He looked—well, he looked hungry. “Take a couple of minutes to introduce yourselves to each other, but keep it short,” Hunter said. “Then we’ll start the exercises.”