We’d been in contact with a student representative of the school before the trip. He was going to be our guide when we arrived on campus. In one of our e-mail messages back and forth, we’d asked him how we should dress, and he had assured us that we didn’t need to pack anything special, that students on campus were not a dressy crowd. Jeans and sneakers were plenty, so that’s what we wore. We each carried a couple of extra shirts, some underwear, and a book, but otherwise we were traveling light. It seemed so odd to be getting ready to fly all the way across the country and not need to take more stuff, but that’s what we were about to do.
The trip meant that we were going to have to miss work on Saturday, but neither of us was all that upset about being spared one day of backbreaking work. Missing class on Sunday was unfortunate, but it couldn’t be avoided.
On the morning of our departure we were both awake earlier than necessary. We were anxious. Since my mother was the one taking us to the airport we obviously were going to be there plenty early. She was not one noted for waiting to the last minute for anything. We were at the airport with two hours to spare, all checked in at the front counter, and through security and into the inner sanctum. Since neither one of us had traveled before, we didn’t really know what to expect. It was both a bit comforting and a bit scary to go through security and have to take off your shoes, your belt, coats, everything metal.
We were at our gate before our airplane was. We paced, we watched, we felt anxious, we tried to bolster each other’s courage and keep each other’s excitement in check. We watched our plane arrive and a sea of people deplane. (See how fast we picked up on the lingo?) It seemed incredible that so many people could fit onboard one airplane. We may have been first-time travelers, but we were both smart and could follow directions as well as the other people.
We listened carefully to the announcements and went up when our row was called. We moved onboard with all of the other people, trying to take in everything we saw. It seemed like everyone around us was an old hand at travel. When we got to the door of the airplane I apparently looked a little panicked. The flight attendant asked if I was okay. I assured her that I was but that this was my first time on an airplane. She smiled and assured us that we were going to love it. She told us that we had picked a perfect day to fly because the weather between there and Chicago was clear all the way, which would give us a smooth first flight.
The plane had two seats on one side of the aisle and three on the other side. Our seats were on the two-seat side. We found our seats, negotiated a bit over who got which seat, and got settled in. Bill was in the window seat and I was in the aisle seat, but I was leaned over so far toward him to look out the window that it almost looked as if we were huddled together nearly to the point of sitting in each other’s laps. I wanted to hold Bill’s hand more than anything, but I didn’t dare.
When the door to the plane closed, he looked at me and said, “I guess we’re really doing it!”
“I still can’t believe this!”
The plane started to push back a few minutes later, and we both nearly squealed with delight. There was not a lot of air traffic that came through that airport, so we didn’t have to wait for other jets to land or take off. Our plane taxied directly out to the end of the runway, and without even a pause powered up and was suddenly rolling down the runway faster and faster. Neither one of us could believe what we were seeing.
“Holy crap!” I said, probably too loudly. “Can you believe how fast we’re going?”
Bill’s mouth was slightly open in awe. We both noticed when the rapid thump-thump of the plane tires on the runway ended and realized that we were airborne and were climbing. Faster than seemed possible, the ground below us was falling away as we climbed higher into the sky.
“Holy crap!” Bill said, echoing my last observation.
“At least,” I added.
The flight attendant who had greeted us when we came onboard came back and leaned over our seat. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” she asked.
“That was amazing!” I said.
She smiled and nodded in agreement. “I do that sometimes a half dozen times a day, and it never gets old. You boys enjoy your flight and let me know if you need anything.”
Our first flight of the day was scheduled to last just a little under two hours and would take us into Chicago, where we were to change planes and fly on to Los Angeles. We both tried to take in everything on both flights. It was fascinating to watch the change in the landscape below us as we flew west. It was equally fascinating for me to watch the people around us on both flights. Bill was at the window so he could see outside more easily than I could. Likewise, I could look around the cabin more easily than he could. It was fascinating to watch the flight attendants move their big carts and hand out drinks and pretzels.
As they were picking up trash before our landing in Chicago, the flight attendant I had talked with upon boarding came back and asked me if we were ending our trip in Chicago. I explained that we were just changing planes and then flying on to California. She asked why we were going to California, so I explained that we were heading out to check out UCLA since we’d both been accepted, and we needed to tour the place, line up a place to live, and try to find some gainful employment. She was quite excited, but I couldn’t figure out why. A moment later she returned and handed me three things: two coupons and a piece of paper.
“On your next flight they’ll have food for sale. These two coupons will give you one item for free. My treat. And this,” she said, pointing to the other piece of paper, “is my mother’s name, address, and phone number. I was born and raised in Santa Monica, not that far from where you’re going. Call my mom and tell her I gave you her name and number. She might be able to help you find someplace to live. She may not, but it’s worth a shot. She knows more people than seems possible.” We thanked her profusely and put this at the top of our list for things to follow up on during our time in Los Angeles.
While our first airport had been quiet and sedate, Chicago was crazy busy. There were more people rushing off to go to more places than seemed conceivable. We walked, we watched, we were awed. We also nearly got run over several times as we made our way to the gate for our next flight. When called, we boarded our flight. This time the plane was larger, with two aisles and lots of seats. We were again seated on the left side in an aisle and window seat. Bill offered me the window seat, but I knew how much joy that brought him, so I told him to take it and just tell me about everything he saw. He smiled. I knew my guy!
This flight was full. We were again awed by how many people fit onto one airplane. This flight was longer, and Chicago’s O’Hare Airport was far busier than our small airport had been so it took us a while to get underway and into the air. We used our gift coupons and had a snack on the flight, and then we both fell asleep, our heads resting against one another on the backs of our seats.
We woke when we saw a flash. We were both startled and at first thought something was wrong with the plane. Then we heard someone say, “Aren’t they just the most adorable couple you’ve ever seen?” We woke enough to focus on the fact that a man in the row in front of us had just taken our picture and was telling a friend that we were cute. Okay. I was pleased and pissed all in the space of one second.
We simply looked at the man for a moment. He was really old, probably at least thirty, but he seemed very animated and happy. His friend popped up and looked back at us. “You’ve got to forgive my friend. He gets a little overexcited at times and doesn’t remember his manners.”
“No problem,” Bill said.
“Did he wake you up?” the second man asked.
“I don’t know,” Bill answered honestly.
The first man, the one who had taken the picture asked, “Do you guys live in LA?”
“No,” I answered, since it was my turn. “We’re only visiting for a couple of days.”
“Where?” he asked.
“UCLA.”
“Oh! Great school! I went there for my undergraduate degree. You going there or just considering it?”
“We’ve been accepted, so we’re just checking it out to see what we think so we can make our decision.”
“Wonderful! You’ll love it. How are you getting there?” he asked. “Are they sending someone to meet you?”
“No. We’re taking the bus.”
“What bus?”
“City bus.”
“No!” he practically shouted. “That’ll take you forever. My husband is picking me up. We’ll give you a ride. We’re headed in that direction. It’ll save you hours. Nobody rides the city buses in LA!”
Bill and I looked at each other, unsure about how to proceed. But the man’s argument made sense, even if he was a bit out there. He left us with no choice, though. “The issue is decided. We’re taking you. No argument.” He sat down, but his travel companion popped back up and said, “He’s mouthy but harmless.”
That earned him a swat to his side from the mouthy one.
The remainder of the flight passed quickly, and we were in California! The land of everyone’s dreams—we were there. When we got off the plane, our newfound friend made sure that we stuck with him. He retrieved a checked bag, which took a while, but then we headed out to the sidewalk. As promised, a man was waiting to pick him up. The two men seemed excited and overjoyed to see each other, wrapping each other in a big hug right there on the sidewalk. They kissed, which shocked both Bill and me. Oh, this was the land of dreams if men could kiss openly in public. I had to live here!
Our ride turned out to be great and really did save us lots of time. The bus actually would have been three buses and quite a meandering route. So the car was wonderful and very much appreciated. We were shocked that total strangers would do something like that for us. The gay brotherhood was a glorious thing. We were dropped right where we needed to be and found our check-in point with no problem.
The campus was huge, which really shouldn’t have been a surprise to us since there were so many students. Getting to the dorm room we’d been assigned to for the duration of our visit took us almost as much time as our drive from the airport. The campus seemed so alive and vibrant. People were everywhere, and there were so many types of people, way different than life in our little valley in upstate New York. Without comparing notes, we both loved it immediately.
We dropped off our bags and went in search of some food, which was readily accessible and fast. Our first “appointment” wasn’t scheduled until the next morning, so we had some unexpected time on our hands. Bill suggested that we should go see the woman the flight attendant had referred us to, her mother. I tried to call her but only got voice mail. Bill said, “What the hell, let’s just go. It’ll give us a chance to see some more of the city.”
We got directions to the address and found that there was a city bus that would take us just about exactly where we needed to go in Santa Monica. We were both curious after hearing that no one takes the bus in Los Angeles. If no one rides them, why do they run? We had to know.
The bus stop was right at the edge of campus. Contrary to what our earlier guide had told us, a lot of people took the bus. In fact, so many people took the bus that we only managed to find a seat for the last ten minutes of our ride. We both kept careful watch and asked several fellow passengers if we were at our stop yet. Most were friendly and told us “not yet.” One was a little gruff, but who cares—we were in California!
When we got to our stop, we found that the address we wanted was only a block away, a very easy walk. As we walked up to the door, we both stopped and looked at each other. “Is this right?” I asked him. “Should we just be showing up at some stranger’s door without calling?”
“You tried to call. We’re only here a very short time. We’ve got to make the most of the time we’ve got. Come on.” Before I could respond, Bill was up the front steps, onto the porch, and ringing the bell.
About twenty seconds later an older woman opened the door.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Go away.”
“We’re not selling anything,” Bill tried.
“I don’t need Jesus or whatever religion you’re pushing either.”
“No religion. Please!” Bill said as she started to close the door. “Your daughter gave us your name.”
“Oh, Christ! Will that girl never stop sending me her lost sheep.”
“We’re not lost sheep,” he protested. “Okay. Maybe a little.”
“What do you want?” she asked impatiently.
“Your daughter told us to come see you. We’re here to tour UCLA. We’ve both been accepted, and we’re gathering information so we can decide if we should do it. We’re from New York, and that’s a long ways for us.”
“I know where New York is,” she said sarcastically.
“We’ve never been to California before. We’ve never been out of New York before. This is a big step for us. But we’ve absolutely got to get the best education we can, because I’ll be damned if we’ll settle for what life is like back there.” Bill was suddenly quite expressive, even surprising himself at his vehemence.
“And what’s so bad about back there?” she asked with her arms crossed across her chest and an impatient look on her face.
Bill took a deep breath, looked her in the eye, and said, “Well, if you don’t mind having your out-of-control father beat you and your mother on a regular basis, then not much.”
Her look of impatience vanished. “Is your mother still…?”
“No! Mark and his mom and dad intervened and rescued us. You should have seen his mom in action. She does rescues like that on a regular basis and gets people out of abusive situations. She just put herself between my mom and my dad and told him that she was taking us out of there. And she did. My mom went into a safe house for abused women. I don’t know what they did about my dad. They won’t tell me, but he’s gone.” He realized that he had been very animated, so he thought he should try to lighten the moment just a touch. “I asked Mark’s dad if they buried him back in the woods somewhere, but he swears that they didn’t because the ground was frozen and they couldn’t dig a hole.” He chuckled and hoped that she would as well.
For the first time she smiled. “You’re Mark?” she asked. I nodded. “Your folks do rescues?”
“Yes. For about ten years now.”
“Why?”
“My mom’s dad….”
She nodded. “I understand. Your folks sound like good people.”
“They’re great.”
Bill jumped back into the conversation. “They got us out of that hell. They took me in. They gave me a home. They gave me back a chance at a life. So I mean it when I say that education is really, really important to me.” Bill looked at me, smiled, and said, “The only thing more important to me is Mark. I love him. Without him I might be dead now, for all I know. And I’m really fond of life and would rather be alive.”
“Come on in,” the woman said, throwing her door open. She led us into the kitchen toward the back of the house. Her house was huge, at least compared to where I’d grown up. I didn’t know what houses were typically like in California, but this one was certainly large. And incredibly well decorated. I didn’t know squat about stuff like that, but I was guessing that it wasn’t decorated from a discount store.
She gave us tea and couldn’t have been more pleasant. I was tired from our day of travel and perhaps not thinking as well as I should have. “Why such a total change in your attitude?” I asked, suddenly realizing how rude my question must have sounded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I… I tend to put on a gruff exterior to keep people away. Too many people selling stuff or pushing some crap religion. I don’t need any of them and would rather they just went away and left me alone. I work hard and don’t need to waste my free time chasing kooks off my front porch.”
Without missing a beat, she switched topics. “So are you going to
live on campus?”
“We don’t know. We only got here about two hours ago. A lot is going to depend on cost. We can’t afford much, so we’re gonna have to be somewhat frugal.”
“It’s hard to be frugal in southern California,” she said. “But it can be done.” She asked, “How long have you two been boyfriends?”
Neither of us expected that question. We had never seen someone be so matter-of-fact about the issue. First we had seen two guys openly kissing on the sidewalk at the airport, and now this woman was just casually talking about us being boyfriends. I loved it here!
Apparently both of us looked a bit startled. She laughed. “Sorry. I tend to be rather direct with everybody. You’ll get used to it, or you’ll hate me. I don’t care which. So?”
“A little over six months,” Bill said.
“You happy?” she asked both of us.
“Very much so,” we both answered.
“Good. It’s important to find your match in life. I tried but screwed it up several times. Okay. Here’s the deal,” she said, getting up from the table. “Come on,” she said, walking toward a door at the back of the kitchen.
She led us out into a gorgeous backyard that was unbelievably large. It sloped down a gentle hillside and looked out toward—holy crap!—the ocean! I’d never seen the ocean. I stopped and just stared. Bill too.
When we stopped, she said, “What… oh, right, the ocean. Does that to a lot of people. First time?”
We nodded.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“We almost tend to take it for granted out here. Good to be reminded every once in a while that not everyone sees it the same way. There will be a lot of time for looking at the ocean later. Now come on!” she ordered as she led us across the yard to a separate building.
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