The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and find something more suitable to read. Ronyx stories are copyrighted, and the author maintains exclusive rights to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Ronyx is a prolific Nifty author. Send comments to ronyx@themustardjar.com, Visit my personal website: www.themustardjar.com for more stories by Ronyx.
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Window Stories Chapter 13
I was awakened when Susan came into the room. "Are you awake, Phil?" she asked.
I sat up and grumbled, "I guess I am now."
"I'm sorry," she said as she reached behind me and fluffed my pillow. She looked at the clock. "It is almost seven-thirty. What would you like for breakfast?"
"The usual," I guess.
She grinned and asked, "Mountain oysters?" I lay back and laughed uproariously.
"Thanks," I finally said. "Now, I'll be afraid to eat what you bring me." She laughed as she went into the restroom to clean.
When she returned, I said, "You seem to be in a better mood than yesterday."
She smiled and replied, "I spent a nice evening with Stanley. For the first time in weeks, he seems to be less depressed."
"Did you hear if he can talk to Colin?"
"Oh, yes," she replied cheerfully. "I talked to his counselors, and they told me that they had talked to Colin. He's going to start seeing him tomorrow evening. When I told Stanley about him, he agreed to talk to him." She smiled and added, "He likes the fact that he's gay and dating Jason."
"You told him that?" I asked. "Are you aware that Colin isn't out yet?"
She gave me a puzzled look. "He's not? I got the impression that he and Jason were a couple."
"They may be," I replied. "However, Colin hasn't come out to his family yet."
"That's strange," she remarked. "Why?"
I smiled and replied, "I've been asking him that. He thinks his family will object to him being gay."
Susan smiled and suggested, "Perhaps, I can have a talk with his mother. You know, mother to mother. It's the least I can do for Colin after what he's going to do to help Stanley."
I smiled and replied, "I'll mention it to him. However, I think it is something he wants to do." Susan cleaned the room a few more minutes before leaving.
Shortly before nine, one of the physical therapy aides came into the room. She was a young woman who appeared to be about thirty. "Mr. Reid," she said. "Jason isn't here today, so I'm going to be working with you." She left the room and entered with a wheelchair.
As she was helping me into it, I asked, "Where is Jason?"
"I don't know," she replied. "I was just told he wouldn't be in today." I found it strange since Jason hadn't missed a day since I had entered the center. At first, I resented his cheerful nature. Now, I looked forward to his pleasant smiles. I hoped that nothing had happened to him. Perhaps Colin will know when he arrives.
My workout wasn't very intense. I felt that the others weren't sure what to do since Jason wasn't advising them. I usually exercise for about a half hour. Today, I was back in my room in about fifteen minutes.
Since it was a Friday, I wasn't sure if Colin would show. His workload seems to increase each time he visits. I regret adding to his caseload by asking him to help Stanley. However, he didn't seem to mind.
He showed up a little after ten-thirty. Instead of his usual tailored suit, he was dressed in a grey sweatsuit. His hair was mussed, and it appeared he had just jumped out of bed. When I made a comment about his appearance, he sat back and made a grumbling sound.
"Is everything alright," I asked. "You look like you just woke up."
He replied, "I did. We forgot to set the alarm clock last night."
Colin's face reddened when I laughed and said, "We?"
"Umm," he stammered. "I meant I."
I laughed and asked, "Is `we' the reason Jason didn't come to work today?"
He became extremely nervous and asked, "You won't say anything, will you?"
"I'm going to blackmail you," I laughed. "I want details."
He smiled and said, "Not much to tell you. Jason came by the apartment last night, and we went out to dinner. On the way home, I bought a bottle of wine. We went back to my place and polished off the bottle."
"Sounds like a night of fun," I remarked. "I had a lot of nights like that."
"Yeah," he confessed. "But I haven't. I felt so bad when we woke up after eight. Jason said he didn't care, and he fell back asleep after calling in sick."
"Why didn't you stay with him?"
He said, "I promised you I would visit. Besides, I won't see you again until Monday.
"Colin," I said appreciatively. "You don't owe me anything. If you have a wild night of sex, I'll understand." I laughed uproariously when his face reddened.
A worried look appeared on his face, and he said, "I don't know, Phil. Everything is happening so fast."
"Let it," I replied. "Opportunities only come around once. If it becomes more serious, then consider yourself the luckiest guy in the world. If it doesn't, at least you'll have some great memories and experiences."
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I guess you're right. I just don't know how long I'm going to able to hide what I'm feeling."
"From whom?"
"My parents," Colin replied. "My mother visits me on Sundays for lunch."
"How's that a problem?"
His face reddened as he replied, "I kind of asked Jason to spend the weekend with me."
"That's perfect," I said. "Let her visit and meet Jason. You might even have him join you for lunch. Once your mother meets him, I'm sure she will like him. She'll surely ask you what is going on. You can then tell her that Jason is your boyfriend."
He shook his head and replied, "I don't know, Phil. What if she won't accept it?"
"Is this the way you really want to live your life?" I asked. "Do you want to hide Jason from others? It's not fair to him if you do. You two will never be happy."
"Besides," I asked. "How would you counsel a young man who came to you with the same worries you're having now? Would you tell him to hide in the closet forever?"
Colin sat up in his chair. "You're right," he agreed. "I'm twenty-four years old. I have a good job, and I have my own place. I'm old enough to live my own life." Suddenly, a frown appeared on his face, and he muttered, "I'm scared shitless."
"Colin," I said as I reached over and gripped his hand. "It's going to be okay. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if your mother doesn't already suspect that you may be gay. I'm sure she wonders why her handsome son hasn't had a dozen girls in his life."
He gave me a hopeful look. "Do you think so?"
"All I can say," I replied, "Is that if you were my son, I would have thought it when you were in high school."
"Why? Do I look gay?"
"No," I laughed. "You don't look gay. However, you have the looks that every girl wants. If you aren't married by now, I would wonder."
"God," he moaned as he put his head in his hands. "I'm so embarrassed. What if my parents think I'm gay?"
I patted his hand and said, "At least it will be easier for them when you come out. Besides, after Sunday, I'm sure your mother will know. The way you two look at each other is going to give it away."
He sighed and replied, "I guess it's going to be a big weekend."
I laughed and said, "In more ways than one."
Colin gave me a puzzled look and asked, "What does that mean?"
I laughed uproariously as I gestured with my hands, "Mr. Eight Inches." Colin's face couldn't have turned any redder.
"Let's talk about something else," he insisted. I told him I had to go to the bathroom first. Since I felt more comfortable walking short distances, I sat on the side of the bed and stood. Colin stood and steadied me as I walked. When I came out, I noticed that Colin had been looking at the contents on my dresser. He quickly moved toward me and grabbed my arm, leading me back to my bed.
He took out his notebook and read. "Yesterday, you were going to tell me more about Dwight."
I looked out the window and saw him staring inside. He had a sad expression on his face. I turned away and looked at Colin. "What do you want to know?"
"You told me about your life together," he replied. "We stopped where you were going to tell me about Dwight having AIDS."
"Yes," I replied as I again looked out the window and saw a frail figure of a man. Tears quickly appeared in my eyes.
"It was horrible," I replied as I tried not to cry. "It's something I wouldn't wish for anyone to experience."
Colin was holding back tears as he asked, "What happened? How did he get it? I've done some reading, and a person is usually infected by having sex with someone or through blood, like a transfusion or sharing a dirty needle."
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. This was a part of my life story I didn't want to relive. However, I knew my story wouldn't be complete without discussing it. It was about five minutes before I finally spoke.
"People make mistakes," I replied with tears in my eyes. "I went to a teacher's convention in Boston in June 1990. I was gone for four days. I didn't find out until about five years later that Dwight had sex with a young hustler that he picked up at a bar while I was gone. He kept it from me, and I didn't suspect anything had happened while I was gone."
"That's terrible," he responded. "How did you find out?"
I looked out the window, and Dwight had his head down. "Dwight became very sick. He got what we thought was pneumonia, and he was admitted to the hospital. It wasn't uncommon for doctors to order an HIV test for gay men to rule that out. Anyway, Dwight's results came back positive."
"That's awful," exclaimed Colin. "I'm so sorry."
"He got over the pneumonia," I continued. "He was put on an antiretroviral drug program. Drugs at that time were still in the experimental stages. We weren't sure his body would respond."
"Did it?"
"For a few years," I replied. "However, his t-cell count continued to drop. After a while he went from being HIV+ to AIDS." I looked out the window and saw a tearful Dwight.
Colin leaned forward and asked, "How did you not get infected?"
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I began to cry. "I did get infected."
"You mean," he asked surprisingly, "You have AIDS too?"
I looked again out the window, and a tearful Dwight mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."
I sat back and closed my eyes. I didn't speak for several minutes. My emotions were high as I relived the most tragic part of my life. Finally, I gathered up enough strength to continue. "I've been HIV positive since I was diagnosed in 1995. I've been living with the disease for almost thirty years. I was one of the lucky ones."
"Oh, my God," gasped Colin. "That's awful."
"Dwight wasn't so lucky," I continued. "For several years, his health continued to decline. The last two years, he was so weak he couldn't work anymore. He was in and out of the hospital constantly. A slight cold would turn into pneumonia. Finally, on April 13, 2005, he passed away peacefully at home. His parents, brother and I were by his side."
I broke down and cried. Colin stood and came to the side of the bed and held my hand. Occasionally, he squeezed it gently. I turned toward the window, and through tears, I saw Dwight wave slightly, turn and disappear.
Colin asked worriedly, "Are you going to be alright? Would you like me to get you a nurse?"
"I'll be okay," I assured him. "It's just that it has been thirty years since I talked about it."
"How is your health now," he asked worriedly.
"Surprisingly well," I replied. "I have been on an antiretroviral drug for over 25 years. My t-cell count remains high, and my viral load is undetectable."
"That's good," he said. "Does Jason know?"
"I don't know," I said. "It's in my health records, so I'm sure he has seen it."
"He can't talk about it if he did," he responded. "And I won't tell anyone, either. You can trust me."
"I wouldn't have told you, if I couldn't trust you," I replied as I squeezed his hand.
"Right," he said.
"If you want to talk about it with Jason," I said, "You have my permission. I don't want there to be any secrets between us."
Colin smile and said, "Thank you." He looked at his watch and said that he should be going. He rose, squeezed my hand and smiled.
I winked and said, "Tell Jason I said hi, and he better be here Monday." Colin blushed and left the room laughing.
I had been watching a movie and fell asleep. I was awakened when my cellphone rang. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 7: 48. I assumed it was Colin calling me because he was the only person who had my number. However, when I looked at the number on the screen, it wasn't him. I hesitated before answering it. It had already rung four times. Finally, I answered.
"Hello, Phil?" asked a strange voice.
I asked angrily, "Who wants to know?" If it was a telemarketer, I was going to read them the riot act. I hadn't had my phone but a few days, and they had already gotten my number.
"Phil?" he asked again. "It's Gary Dearth. Remember me? We spoke the other day at Olive Garden."
"Gary?" I asked surprisingly. How did he get my number? He had given me his. It was on my nightstand. When I looked over to see the napkin that he had written his number on, it wasn't there. I instantly thought that the aide had removed it when cleaning. "How did you get my number?"
"You never called me," he replied.
I asked again, "How did you get my number?"
He laughed and responded, "You sound like you aren't pleased to hear from me."
"No," I insisted, "It's not that. I'm just curious how you got my number."
He explained that he had received a phone call from a young man who knew me. He said that he was one of the men that I was dining with at Olive Garden. "I was quite surprised," he said. "I had no way of calling you. I assumed you had thrown away my number," he laughed.
Suddenly, I remembered when I came out of the bathroom earlier this afternoon, Colin was standing by my nightstand. He must have taken the napkin with Gary's number on it. I didn't know whether to be angry with him or not.
"Phil?" asked Gary. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah, Gary. I'm still here."
He asked, "How have you been? I was worried about you when I saw you in a wheelchair."
"I'm fine," I replied. We spent the next half hour talking. I told him about my stroke and how I was now in a nursing facility. I told him how I was attending therapy sessions with Jason. Gary asked if Jason was one of the men I was with at Olive Garden. When I told him he was the black guy, he said I was lucky.
"He can attend to me anytime he wants," he laughed.
I smiled and asked, "You haven't changed at all, have you?" I recalled all the times he would come into my office, and we would talk about a new young male teacher. One year, a math teacher named Howard Spencer joined the staff. I was still getting over Dwight's death, so I wasn't interested. However, I still played the game. We made a bet which of us would take Howard out to dinner first. Gary was crushed when Howard showed up at a school dance in the gymnasium one night, and he introduced us to pretty woman attached to his side. He introduced her to us as his fiancée. We had a good laugh the following Monday.
I asked Gary how he was doing. I was curious if the guy he was with in the restaurant was his husband. "I've been doing well," he informed me. "I retired seven years ago, and I've opened up a pottery shop downtown."
"Pottery?" I asked. "I didn't know you did pottery." He explained that it was something he had been doing for years as a hobby. It wasn't until after he retired that he began to sell his items to make ends meet. He said it wasn't as profitable as he had hoped it would be. "I end up in the black each year," he said. "But not by much. If things don't improve, I may give it up."
"I'll have to visit your shop someday," I said. Gary said that he would be so happy if I did. I eventually got around to asking who he was with that day.
"Oh, Jim," he said with a laugh. "He's not a boyfriend. He's my brother-in-law. He was having an argument with my sister, Pam, that day. He wanted to attend a golf tournament, and Pam wanted him to go to a wedding. He thought I would call my sister and convince him to let him play golf."
"Did you?"
"Hell no," he laughed. "I loaned him twenty-five hundred dollars two years ago, and the son of a bitch hasn't paid me back a penny yet. I'll be damned if I help him. And can you believe he had the audacity to ask me for two thousand more so he could attend the tournament."
"Sounds like your sister married a keeper," I laughed. He went on for five more minutes about Jim. I finally stopped him and asked him if there was anyone special in his life.
"You know me," he replied sadly. "I always seem to attract the wrong men."
"Yeah," I said. "I remember that loser you were with when you taught at the high school."
"Everett?" he asked. "Hell, there have been so many of them."
"I don't remember his name," I replied. "He had dark curly hair and brown eyes."
"Yeah, that was Everett," he said. "I kicked him out of the house before I had to take a gun and shoot him," he laughed. "I found him in bed with a college student."
Gary continued to tell me how he was unhappy. He said he was sixty-nine, and he had never found anyone special. "I guess I'll go to my grave alone."
"Me, too," I confessed. He asked how I was doing. Dwight had passed a few years before we met. He knew that I had been dealing with his death. I told him about having to give up my home and move into a nursing facility. I shared with him my hopes of someday leaving and moving into an independent living apartment.
"You had a beautiful home," he said. "I can imagine how you feel to have to give it up." I had invited Gary and Everett several times to our house for dinner. I was a pretty good cook, and I loved entertaining guests for dinner.
When I looked at the clock, it was a little after ten o'clock. We had been talking for over two hours! Time had passed so quickly. It felt good to talk to an old friend. It was something I hadn't experienced in almost a year.
"I have to go," I apologized. "My aide will be in soon to give me my evening meds before I go to bed."
"I understand," replied Gary. "I've had a great time talking to you, Phil. It seems like it was just yesterday I would come into your office, and we would shoot the shit."
"It was fun."
"Would you mind if I come visit you some day?"
I had to stop and consider if I wanted him to visit. I would enjoy it, but I didn't want him to see me in my weakened state. It would be embarrassing for him to visit and see me bedridden. He still seemed to be full of life and good health.
"Phil?" he asked. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah, Gary. Sure, you can visit," I replied reluctantly.
"Great. I'll call you soon, and we can set up something. I'll get your address then."
"Okay," I said. We spoke a few minutes more, and he finally hung up.
I closed my phone and looked out the window. Dwight smiled and nodded his head.
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