A Gay Polyester High School Romance

by S. W. Ballenger

“My best friend Brad stole a few drinks, well several drinks actually. I got totally wasted and got caught,” I explained.

  “Oops!” Will laughed.

  “Yep. Now I get to spend the weekend on Green Acres shoveling manure.” I joined him in laughter.

  “So, was it worth it?” He grinned.

  “Ummm…” I looked up. “Yeah, I suppose. At least you’re cool.”

  “Cool is my middle name…well, it’s actually Dennis…but I hate that name.” He shrugged.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah. I can understand why.”

  “Shut up.” He elbowed me again.

  Another rustling in the leaves, this time much louder, caught both of our attentions. My eyes zoomed to the source of the sound.

  “Shh.” Will put his finger up to his month. “There he is.” He pointed. “Damn! Look at that rack! At least a ten point.”

  My eyes widened at the sight of the very large buck that stood less than thirty feet from us. He bent his head down and plucked a few blades of grass, before jerking his head up at a sound in the opposite direction.

  “How good of a shot are you?” Will whispered as he brought his rifle up.

  “Decent,” I whispered in return.

  “Do you want to take the shot?” He began to lower his gun.

  “I’ll give it a go.” I started getting my gun into position.

  “Be sure, cuz, ‘cause if you miss…well, that’s a freezer full of meat our family could really use right now.” He gave me a grave stare, making me feel as though his family might starve to death if I missed. I started to tell him to take the shot, but I felt confident in my skills. After all, I had impressed Grandpa Stuart many times with my ability to kill several birds from a scared-up covey.

  “I’ll kill it,” I reassured him.

  “Okay.” Will hesitatingly handed me his rifle. “Use mine, its sights are a little better, and wait until he gets clear of those branches before you fire. Aim toward the area between the shoulder and midsection.”

  I nodded.

  Lining up the sights on his gun, I placed the butt of the rifle against my left shoulder. Will gave me a puzzled look, but relaxed when he realized I was left-handed. I placed my almost frozen finger against the cold metal of the trigger, closed one eye, aligned my sights, and waited. A few moments later, the buck moved forward and I held my breath, shifting the gun slightly to the right, aiming per Will’s instructions.

  The buck slowly stepped into the clearing and I slowly squeezed the trigger.

  With a loud pop, the gun fired. The rifle recoiled throwing me back against the tree, breaking my concentration for a moment, but I kept my eye on the prize as the animal dropped like a stone.

  “You nailed it!” Will yelled excitedly.

  Anxiously grabbing our guns, we jumped up and sprinted over to my target.

  As I approached the buck, I looked down at the animal dripping with blood from the wound I had created. I felt a little sad that I had killed the creature, but I knew that its meat would not go to waste and that deer season existed for a reason: to thin an overcrowded population that led to disease and starvation.

  Will squatted down next to the head and began counting the tips of the horns. “Holy shit, cuz, you just killed an eleven-point!” He looked up, his face beaming.

  “Holy shit!” My eyes widened. “That’s big isn’t it?”

  “Hell yeah, it’s big,” Will stated as if it were obvious to anyone. “This guy’s going to fill a whole freezer full of meat.”

  Pulling a knife from his pocket, he placed the blade against the neck of the animal and began slitting its throat.

  I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “You have to drink the first blood of your first kill,” he said as he finished his cut.

  “Do what?” I shrieked, never hearing of this morbid ritual.

  “The first deer…you have to drink its blood. It’s a rite of passage,” he said as he stood up.

  I gave him an uncertain stare. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Come on, City Boy, prove you’re not just a spoiled rich kid.” He folded his arms and lifted his chin.

  I hesitated for a moment, looking down at the red drops leaking from the cut and back up to Will. While every fiber of my being wanted to say no, for some reason I felt the sense I had to prove something to this cousin I had known less than two days.

  “Fine.” I sighed. “How do I do this?”

  “Come over here and cup your hands under it and drink,” he said as he nodded down.

  I tried not to think about what I was about to do as I walked around the carcass. The very thought of it made me want to throw up, but I had to prove myself. I squatted down and hesitantly cupped my hands underneath the freshly cut wound. The warm blood dripped into my icy-cold hands.

  After I felt I had a sufficient amount, I scrunched my face as I lifted my hands to my mouth and sucked the liquid down my throat.

  I stood up shaking my head in disgust. “Blah!”

  Will patted me on the back as I felt a few drops of blood drip down my chin. “I’m proud of you, cuz. How did it taste?”

  “Tastes very metallic.” I smacked my lips and squinted. “Reminds me of that black pudding I had in Wales.”

  My mind flashed back to the morning Brad and I went to eat at the breakfast buffet in the hotel in Cardiff. What I thought was pumpernickel bread, turned out to be black pudding: a traditional English sausage made from congealed pig’s blood. While I thought it was absolutely disgusting, Brad actually liked the stuff and ate several slices.

  Will laughed and handed me a handkerchief from his pocket to clean my hands.

  Staring down at the rather large animal, a problem became clear. “So how do we get this thing out of here?” I asked.

  “I brought some rope in my backpack. We’ll tie it in two places and drag it back to my house. It shouldn’t be too hard with both of us pulling it.”

  “That’ll work.” I nodded and looked up at the gray sky as the snowfall became heavier. “It’s really starting to come down.”

  “Yeah. We need to hurry.” Will sprinted back to the tree to retrieve the rope from his backpack.

  Soon, we started our journey back. Dragging the buck was not difficult, but occasionally it would snag on a root or stump and we’d have to maneuver it around. As we dragged the very heavy carcass through the forest, I would occasionally glance to my side at Will. Several times I wanted to ask him about Marc, but I knew that was out of the question since I found out about their relationship from snooping.

  My mind began to drift to Brad. When we left school on Thursday, we were now secret boyfriends, which made me think of the letter from Marc. I wondered how long they maintained the façade they were “just friends.” I guess it really didn’t matter. Whether you lived in the city or the country, being fifteen and being different meant you had to stay in hiding.

  • • •

  The snow became blizzard-like as we neared the Bellums’ home. I was absolutely freezing as we pulled the buck into the small barn directly behind the house.

  Will got his dad’s help and led me through the rather disgusting process of dressing a deer. A few times I felt myself getting queasy. Will thought it was absolutely hilarious watching my reactions skinning and cutting it up.

  Later for dinner, Mrs. Bellums used the venison to create a mouth-watering stew. While I had eaten venison a few times, I really didn’t care for it; but the way she prepared it was actually good. I shoveled down two bowls of the stuff.

  When Will invited me to sleep at his house, this time I didn’t hesitate. I had my fill of the Bate’s Motel. We spent the evening at the kitchen table playing poker with Will’s parents using matchsticks. I admit, I got quite good at bluffing, but Will was much better at it and won most of the games. I also learned that Mr. Bellums was quite the historian and told the history of our family property going back over two hundred years with the first
Bellums settling the area in 1780. Several times I noticed Mrs. Bellums staring at me before turning to look at her son. I know it had to be our resemblance that fascinated her, but it had started to make me feel uncomfortable.

  By the time midnight rolled around, I was absolutely exhausted.

  Will pulled back the sheets of his bed that we would be sharing for the night.

  “I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed, I don’t snore, but I do fart like a trooper,” Will said casually as he started fluffing his pillow.

  “That’s okay. I wet the bed on occasion and I had quite a lot of soda tonight,” I said evenly as I pulled off my jeans, not falling for his joke this time.

  Will laughed. “Good one, cuz.”

  As we stripped down to our underwear and climbed into bed, I looked up at the poster of the nine planets on his ceiling.

  “Why do you have that on the ceiling?” I pointed up.

  “I don’t know.” I felt the bed move as he shrugged. “I just find space fascinating. Did you know Venus is Earth’s twin? They’re the same size, weigh about the same, and are made of roughly the same material. It’s believed millions of years ago Venus supported life, but as our sun expanded it made it too hot and now it’s just a big flaming rock.”

  “Cool. I didn’t know that,” I replied.

  “Yeah, did you know in like a billion years Earth’s gonna meet the same fate? Of course, the human species won’t make it that long. We’ll nuke ourselves to death long before then.”

  I tilted my head to the side and looked at my nearly identical twin. “You really surprise me, you know that?”

  “What do you mean?” He laughed.

  “It’s just. You are into hunting, livestock,” I waved my hands toward his trophies, “and sports, yet you…I don’t know…have this other side of you.”

  Will laughed. “I’m a riddle wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

  “Did you come up with that?” I laughed.

  “Na. Winston Churchill used the phrase to describe Russia.” He shrugged. “I’m not that original.”

  “I noticed you’re left-handed.” Will changed the subject. “I am, too.”

  “Weird.” I wiggled my left hand in the air.

  “I know, right?” He turned his head toward me. “Wanna pull a Parent Trap on our folks? Country Boy. City Boy. We got the perfect set up for our own madcap comedy adventure.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

  “Ummm…hell no…farm livin’ ain’t the life for me,” I stated adamantly.

  He began singing the Green Acres theme song and I joined in. Laughing when we finished, we high-fived each other for knowing every word.

  Several moments of silence passed as we again stared upward.

  “You know? I’ve been wondering all day why your parents never come visit Granny and Granddad and why we’ve never met.” He locked his eyes with mine.

  “I’d never thought about it until this weekend, but yeah,” I answered. “Mom’s just kinda weird about coming up here. I have no idea why.”

  “Yeah. There’s some weird family shit going on. My parents have never told me what happened, but something went down years ago. Your mom is the only family member that ever comes around. Aunt Margie and Uncle Stu; none of them ever visit.”

  “Strange. I’m just shocked she decided to send me up here for the weekend by myself. Who knows?” I shrugged.

  “Yeah. I guess everybody has their secrets,” Will said with an odd expression on his face.

  Looking at the poster again, I listened to the ticking of the clock on the nightstand as a few more minutes passed. My mind started thinking about “secrets” and I knew Will was referring to more than just our parents’ secrets.

  “Hey, Shawn,” Will said. I noted the serious tone of his voice and the fact he called me by my name and not “cuz”. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Why not?” he asked, staring at the ceiling.

  I flipped to my side to face him as it occurred to me where he might be going with this line of questioning. Maybe he had been thinking the same thing I was thinking, about us being so much alike.

  “Just haven’t met the right girl, I guess.” I shrugged my shoulder.

  “I see,” he replied.

  More silence passed.

  Flipping to face me, he stared into my eyes. I could see the indecision on his face as his eyes darted side to side. “I know we have this whole strange genetic family thing going on here, and there’s something I want to ask you because I wonder just how much alike we really are.”

  Reflecting on his indecision, I stared back. The silence was palpable. I felt I could trust him; but telling him my deepest darkest secret filled me with fear. Sure, I knew his secret, and I wouldn’t tell another living soul, except maybe Brad, but I knew I could trust Brad. Will was a risk, he could tell my grandparents. Then again, my grandparents probably wouldn’t ever understand the word bisexual and did I really care what they thought of me? It’s not like I saw them but once a year.

  “Shit!” He beat his fist against his forehead; breaking my focus on my internal dilemma. “Just forget it.”

  “No listen, Will.” I grabbed his fist and pulled it down. “Tell me. You can trust me.”

  He looked at me contemplatively again before backing off again. “Na, just forget it.”

  Finally deciding I could care less what my grandparents thought of me, I took a deep breath. “I like guys.” I thought saying ‘bisexual’ might confuse him. If I’d never heard the term before my mother said it, I felt sure he hadn’t either.

  Will’s eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. Immediately, I felt I made a mistake. “You do?”

  “Please don’t tell anyone!” I said frantically.

  “Tell anyone?” He let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t believe this. Shit, dude! I thought…damn.” He looked up at the ceiling, putting the back of his hand against his forehead. “I do, too.”

  “You do?” I asked not exactly sure why I felt I needed confirmation.

  “Dude. You don’t know how hard it is to have no one to talk to about this. I mean, you know what would happen if people found out?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I frowned.

  He removed his hand. “Have you told anyone else?”

  “My mom knows and my boyfriend, of course.” It occurred to me at that point it didn’t matter whether he knew I had a boyfriend or not. The cat was out of the bag.

  “You have a boyfriend and you told your mom?” His eyes bulged.

  “Yeah.” I chuckled. The repeated looks of surprise on his face striking me as funny. “Well, I didn’t tell her I actually had a boyfriend, only that I liked guys.”

  “Damn!” He laughed. “How did your mom take it?”

  “Good, actually. She wasn’t upset at all.”

  “Wow!” He shook his head. “I could never tell my parents. They’d never understand their only son was gay.”

  “I’m not gay. I’m bisexual,” I replied, wondering if Will was the same as me and only used the word gay because he didn’t know what else to call his attraction toward both sexes.

  “Oh. Bisexual.” He sounded as though he knew exactly what the term meant. “Not me,” he waved his hand dismissively. “I have no desire for girls whatsoever.”

  I felt a little surprised that we weren’t quite alike. “What about Patricia?” I asked and looked at the frame on his bookshelf.

  “Eh. We dated some late summer and we even went all the way, but it just felt,” he shrugged his shoulders, “off.”

  Immediately my mind went to the letter I’d found in the book. “So, is that the reason you guys broke up?” I asked the leading question hoping he would open up about Marc. Admittedly, I was curious.

  “Kinda. I had this friend Marcus. We kind of became best friends and one thing led to another.” He looked at me and pushed his hair back over his head.

  “That sounds like me and my boyfriend, Brad. We
’ve been best friends since we were four.” I did the same with my own hair that had flopped in my face.

  “Marc moved away at the end of summer…and…well. That was the end of that,” he said with an obvious sadness in his voice.

  “I’m sorry.” I thought about the letter and the fact he had to escape from his father.

  He sighed. “I didn’t want to admit to Marc I loved him. I was kinda still weird about all of it back then, but now that’s he’s been gone for all these months I realize I did love him.” His eyes drooped.

  “Yeah. I only admitted to Brad that I loved him a few weeks ago. It’s just so hard to accept yourself as being…different.”

  “I know. You try to fight it for so long, but you can’t. All it does is make you depressed,” he replied obviously understanding the struggle to come to grips with who you are.

  I shook my head. “Yeah.”

  A moment of silence passed as we both let everything sink in.

  “You know,” I changed the subject, “I’ve been dreading coming up here all week, but now I’m glad I came. I mean…you’re a cool guy and you’ve made this ‘punishment’ fun.”

  “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  “You should come down to Connecticut after Christmas and stay a few days. You’d get to meet Brad and we could hang out and swim and stuff.”

  “Let me guess,” he pressed his lips together, “you have a heated pool?”

  “Of course.” I smirked.

  “Rich boy.” He smiled mischievously.

  “Country bumpkin,” I returned.

  Sunday, December 9, 1973

  Dear Journal,

  The weekend at Granddad and Granny Bellums’ farm turned out tons better than I ever expected. Meeting my look-alike cousin Will, and knowing that there are more people out there like me and Brad, makes me feel better about myself and my relationship with Brad.

  That being said, from this point forward, I am not going to hold back my feelings for Brad any longer. I love Brad, and I’m going to start showing him just how much I love him.

  ~ Shawn

  Chapter Fourteen