Dr. Butkus’ first question to Matthew the following Monday was whether the boy had been able to write down any dreams. Matthew replied that he had had only one bad dream. He had also experienced good ones, two of his former home in Vermont and three of Stephan.
“Do you miss your old home?” asked the doctor.
“Sometimes. I liked living on a farm. I grew up with the animals, and I even assisted at the births of piglets and calves. It’s different living in a town, but I have to admit the school’s a lot better.”
“Why did you move?”
“Well, the farm had belonged to my grandparents. My dad really hated farming but he stayed to help my grandfather. After Grandpa died, Dad decided to sell. Now he sells farm machinery all over New England and New York State, which means he’s away from home a lot.”
The doctor nodded. “Tell me about your dreams of Stephan.”
Matthew blushed, pausing a moment before beginning. “I think I’m in love with him. When I dream of him, he and I are both naked, lying beside each other in a bed jerking ourselves off. Is that terrible?”
“Definitely not. Let me be sure I understand though. You’re masturbating yourselves, not each other. Is that right?”
“Yes. We do touch each other a little, but we don’t seem to go beyond that, and that’s only in my dreams.”
“In your dreams, do you want to go beyond that?”
“I don’t really know.”
Nodding, the doctor said, “All right. If and when you want to talk more about your sexuality we can.”
“I don’t think I can do that yet.”
“That’s OK. So, what can you tell me about your bad dream?”
Matthew pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket — the notes he had made right after the dream. “The first thing I remember is that I was racing down a dim hallway. It was a prison hallway with cells on each side. I could hear men yelling as I ran. The only light was from small flashing colored lights on the ceiling and the floor. A colossal, hairy giant was chasing me, his huge cock pointing straight out in front of him, his hand holding an enormous knife. As I fled, I realized I was naked but that didn’t stop me tearing down the hall. I was frantic with fear. At the end of the hall, I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Horrified, I turned toward the monster just as two things happened: a sword appeared in my hand and all the lights went out. I grasped the sword in both hands and held it out in front of me. I felt a terribly strong jolt as the monster ran straight onto it and hot blood splattered all over me. Both the monster and I screamed at the same time. Then I woke up. I was trembling violently, and my pajamas were soaked with sweat. Mom must have heard me scream, because she came up to ask if I was OK. I told her about the dream and she held me quite awhile until I stopped shaking. Finally I was able to go back to sleep and I dreamt of Stephan.”
“That’s quite a dream,” said the doctor. “Do you have any idea why you had it?”
“Well, it might have been because of what Stephan told me about what happened to Sinclair.”
“Which was?”
Matthew told the doctor what he knew of the assault on Sinclair. When he finished he said, “You know, I remember that I told Sinclair I hoped he suffered for the rest of his life, and now I feel really guilty about that.”
“You shouldn’t, Matthew. What you said had nothing to do with what happened to Mr. Sinclair. “
“That’s what Stephan said and I do know it, but I don’t think anybody should suffer the way he did. I’ve been thinking about him since then, and I realize now that, except for what he did to boys, he wasn’t a bad man. He was a good family man, he cared about us and he taught us well. It’s like his need for sex with boys was some sort of flaw. But I don’t understand how the attack could have happened. Weren’t there any guards around? And how did a prisoner get hold of a knife?”
After thinking for a few moments, the doctor replied, “First. You’re right. Nobody should have to suffer that way. Prisons are full of vicious men, though not all the people in prisons are vicious by any means. While the inmates often can accept murderers, sadists, and all other sorts of bad people, there seems to be a prison code against men who rape children. Such men are never safe in prison, and quite possibly the guards felt the same and just looked the other way. As for the knife, somehow things do get smuggled into prisons, and also things get made in prisons, so probably nobody will ever know how the knife got there or who actually attacked him. If he wants to live, he certainly won’t tell who did it.”
A day after his appointment, Matthew went to Stephan’s house. He had not been there for a while because of the portrait work in his studio. He took the framed portrait of Stephan with him. Stephan, looking at it closely, again said how wonderful he thought it was then hugged and thanked him.
In his room, the boys hugged again before Stephan said, I’m looking forward to you meeting my brother, Stavros. You’ll like him. When I told him I was gay, he was completely understanding and said he wasn’t surprised. He just told me to be careful.
Matthew wondered if Stavros would ask him if he was gay like Stephan. He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that and he hoped it wouldn’t come up.
“Now,” Stephan continued, “enough of that. To change the subject, I’m turning fifteen, and I’m having a birthday party on Saturday. I want you to come.”
Matthew was not at all excited about attending the party. It was just the sort of event he dreaded. “How many people will be there?”
“Counting you and me, fourteen.”
Oh, damn, thought Matthew, wondering how he could get out of it.
“I know you don’t like groups of people, Matthew, but please say you’ll come. I really want you here.”
“How can I say no after that?” asked Matthew, and so it was agreed. Matthew told Stephan about the dreams he had been having including the monster and his dreams about the farm. Hesitating for a time, he finally finished by shyly telling his dreams about Stephan.
“Oh, my. So you really think you’re gay?”
“I guess maybe I am.”
“And would you like to do what you’ve dreamed of?” asked Stephan, smiling suggestively.
Matthew blushed, fiercely. He was terribly embarrassed, but the truth was, he did want to. Finally, Stephan suggested, “Why don’t you go in the bathroom and take off your clothes? I’ll get the bed and myself ready. Knock when you’re all set.”
Nodding, Matthew went into the bathroom, highly excited with anticipation. After removing his shirts, his sneakers, and his socks, he finally pulled down his trousers. By this point, he had a large bulge in his underwear. He found himself breathing heavily, and paused to calm himself a bit. At length he pulled down his underpants and stood naked before the mirror. “Oh, wow!” he thought. “Is this really happening?’’ Embarrassed to walk into the bedroom naked, he wrapped a towel around himself and knocked on the door. When Stephan told him to enter, he opened the door hesitantly and looked in. Stephan was lying on his double bed, naked, fully erect, his firm penis pointing up towards his chest.
“Come on in, Matthew. I’m not going to bite.” Matthew walked over to the bed and stood, looking down. “It’s OK, Matthew, you can drop the towel.” Blushing again, he did so. “Now just come and lie beside me.” As the boy did, Stephan felt him trembling.
“Stephan, do we have to do anything to each other?”
“Not, until you want to Matthew. We can take things as slowly as we want.” They lay in silence for a time, each surreptitiously observing the other’s penis. While Stephan’s pointed towards his chest, Matthew’s was pointing straight toward the ceiling. Each boy was interested in the size of his friend’s organ, and each observed that the other was circumcised. At last, Matthew stopped shaking. The silence continued, until, as if on a signal, they both reached for their erect penises and began slowly rubbing them. It wasn’t long before they both came, shooting their semen onto their chests. Relaxing, they again lay in silence, letting their breathing calm, and then Matthew began to giggle, all the nervous tension gone from him.
“What are you laughing at?” asked Stephan.
“I’m not sure. It’s just that suddenly I feel wonderful. Thank you for helping me, Stephan.”
“Oh, I haven’t helped you nearly as much as I want to,” said Stephan, smiling suggestively. “But I did promise to go as slowly as you want. “ Matthew smiled, gratefully. “We’d better wipe off our cum,” said Stephan, so they both cleaned themselves with the towel Matthew had brought, then sat and talked for awhile.
Before he left, Matthew said, “Can I ask a favor?” Stephan nodded. “I’ve never drawn or painted a nude before, do you think you’d be willing to pose for me?”
Stephan grinned and asked, “Would we be able to keep our hands off each other long enough?”
“Oh, yes,” replied his friend seriously. “I wouldn’t be nude. Just you. I’d be working.” Laughing, Stephan agreed to give it a try the next week. Before Matthew left, they enjoyed their customary hug.
On the following Friday, Matthew finished his picture, a self-portrait in pastels, sprayed it, and framed it. Taking it down to his parents, he asked what they thought, telling them it was a present for Stephan. His mother admired it enthusiastically, asking if he would do one for them, while his father asked to take a picture of it which he could use for the family Christmas card. Matthew happily agreed to both. Following the picture-taking, Matthew wrapped his portrait in birthday paper, setting it aside for the next day.
Saturday afternoon, Matthew’s mother drove him to Stephan’s house so he could take his present. When he arrived, Stephan met him at the door smiling. Stephan was wearing pressed black trousers and a white dress shirt open at the neck. There was a small Greek cross on a chain around his neck. Matthew saw that the outfit emphasized his friend’s coloring and his black hair, and he thought the boy who stood before him was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Happily handing his present to Stephan he asked him not to open it in public, saying that it was much too private. With a quizzical expression, Stephan agreed, taking it up to his bedroom before they both descended to the party in the basement, a part of the house Matthew had never seen. Most of it was a large, pine-paneled room containing a TV set and ping-pong and pool tables. There were also tables set up with soft drinks and snacks. The birthday party was exactly what Matthew had expected and dreaded — a room full of testosterone-charged teenagers.
Midway through the party, one of the boys turned on the TV and found a rerun of an old Hopalong Cassidy show. Typical of such programs there was a lot of riding and shooting. The boys split into two groups, some of them rooting for Hoppy and some for the villain. Of course, the villain lost ignominiously, the show ending with Hoppy triumphantly riding off into the sunset. That was really the only part of the party Matthew enjoyed except for the baklava.
He found the party very loud, every boy trying to talk over all the others. There were ping pong and pool tournaments. As usual in such a gathering, much of the conversation was about who had gotten to what base with which girls, and sports. Neither subject interested Matthew. From time to time, Stephan sat beside him, asking him if he was having a good time. Matthew smiled and nodded, but his heart wasn’t in it and he knew it wasn’t really true. Stephan however, seemed happy and satisfied.
At about 6:00 all the boys trooped upstairs for hamburgers and hot dogs, followed, after a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday,” by cake and ice cream. Then they gathered in the living room so Stephan could open his presents, among which were several model airplane kits, as well as games and sports equipment—a bat, a ball, a soccer ball, and, as a joke, a jock strap. At the conclusion of the presents, the party began to break up until nobody was left except Matthew, whom Mrs. Demos was going to take home.
Before Matthew left, Stephan went to his bedroom and brought down the wrapped gift. Quickly tearing the wrapping off, he gazed in awe at the self-portrait. “My God, Matthew, it’s gorgeous! Thank you!” Placing the picture carefully on a table, he gave Matthew an ecstatic embrace, happily returned by Matthew, while Stephan’s parents admired the portrait.
“Is it really OK? You don’t think I’m conceited, do you, giving you a picture of myself?” asked Matthew.
“Of course it’s OK. It’s much more than OK. I couldn’t have asked for anything better. And no, you’re not conceited; you’re very, very thoughtful. Let’s go hang it in my room.” In his bedroom, Stephan found what he called “the perfect place” to hang it, across from his bed and over his workbench. They hung it and stepped back to admire their work.
“I have an idea, Matthew. Would you be interested in coming the Friday after Thanksgiving for a sleepover, just the two of us?” Matthew was thrilled by the idea. Back downstairs, Stephan asked his mother about the sleepover.
“Would you boys mind being in the bed together? It’s really all we have available unless one of you wants to sleep on the floor.” The boys looked at each other, their smiles nearly giving them away before Stephan said he thought that arrangement would be fine.
When Matthew arrived home, he asked his mother about the sleepover, saying nothing about the bed, and his mother readily agreed. As his mother watched him go up the stairs to his room, she smiled, overjoyed that Matthew had finally made a friend.