Parker took to skating in no time and wanted to spend every free minute on the ice. After I showed him how to stop without running into a snowbank, he skated off and was soon doing all sorts of figures and acrobatics on the ice. He leaped in the air, spinning, and landed back on his feet. After a time, he did the same but landed on one foot. He was fearless. When he fell, he got up laughing and tried again. It was not long before he was outskating everyone on the ice.
Back then, parents did not keep close track of their children. We played outside freely, going from place to place as we saw fit. About three years earlier articles began to appear in newspapers and magazines warning parents about pedophiles who could be preying on young boys. Oh sure, we had gotten some warnings about not speaking to strangers, but it was a small town, and everyone knew everybody else, so there was little danger and nothing ever happened. Our parents had a general idea of where we were, and we knew when to be home for meals. In the summer, we played outside after dinner until dark. They didn’t ever seem to worry about us.
By some unspoken agreement, the ice was reserved for hockey for two hours on Saturday mornings. Parker happily joined in the games, borrowing a hockey stick from one of the other boys. I, on the other hand, didn’t play hockey, so if there was a game going on when I arrived at the pond, I sat and watched, marveling at Parker’s speed and confidence on the ice. By the time the ice began to melt in the spring, he was out-scoring everyone.
While we had gotten some snow from time to time, there had not yet been enough to cancel school for a day. On the Monday of the February school vacation, snow began to fall, covering the ground, the bushes and the houses with a thick white blanket. The storm continued long into the night, and when we awoke in the morning there was nearly a foot of heavy, wet, new-fallen snow on the ground. Almost before I was awake, Parker phoned to suggest that we shovel snow together, first my driveway and then his. I agreed and very soon he was at our back door.
Mom insisted that I eat a good breakfast, so I did, with Parker joining me for his second breakfast. Outdoors, we grabbed our shovels and went to work. Because the snow was so heavy and there was so much of it, our progress was slow, taking more than two hours to finish my driveway and the walk from the driveway to my front door.
Before going to the Johnstons’ house, we went inside to warm up and have some hot cocoa. When we finished, Parker said, “Okay, let’s move on to my house.” That was the first time I had heard him refer to the house as his and I was happy to think that he was really settling in.
Again, we put on our jackets, hats, boots, and gloves, went out my back door, collected our shovels, and trudged over to Parker’s house, where we spent another two hours clearing his driveway and walk.
By the time we were finished, we were exhausted. I was happy that Parker’s grandpa invited us both in for lunch. Following a feast of leftover fried chicken supplemented with sandwiches, more hot cocoa with marshmallows, and fruit and cookies, we thanked him and went down the hall to Parker’s room, where we both lay on his bed and rested, finally dozing off.
When I awoke, I had a very firm boner. Parker was lying on his back and I looked at him closely. Again, I thought he was beautiful. His shiny black hair was hanging down over one eye, setting off his remarkably pale skin. His cute nose turned up slightly. His neck was so inviting I longed to kiss it. I sighed and, without waking him, went into the bathroom and took care of my cock, being careful to clean up after myself.
Back in his room, Parker was just waking up. I could tell by his blue jeans that he had the same problem I’d had. Quickly, he got out of bed, trying to keep his crotch hidden from me. He went into the bathroom and I assumed he took care of his pecker before he returned.
As we sat side by side on his bed, I said, “If we’re gonna be friends, we can’t hide that sort of thing from each other. It would just be too awkward, and besides, we both know what boners are and we know we can’t always control them, so let’s not worry about it.”
He smiled sheepishly and nodded.
That was the first time either of us even mentioned anything to do with sex.
After that we put on our outdoor clothing and went into his backyard, where we built a couple of snow forts. I had some experience with these in former years, so I built a good, solid one. Parker on the other hand, simply piled up some snow in the shape of an arc. The snowball fight that followed was silly, fun, and intense. We finally called it quits when I had to go home for dinner.
Of course, I was thoroughly soaked by then, so back home I stripped off my wet clothes and took long hot shower. Boy it felt good!
There was a full-length mirror on the bathroom door, so, as usual, I took a few moments to examine myself. After all, what teenage boy didn’t? I was pleased to note that my chest was beginning to develop and there was a little more muscle evident in my arms and legs. I really didn’t have much of a bush, and disappointed me, but all in all, I knew my body was maturing.
The next day, I called Patrick and the other boys and girls, telling them we would have a monster snowball fight on the field next to the skating pond.
Parker and I took our shovels to the field, where each kid had established a site for his or her snow fort. We hastily built ours and the fight was on. Snowballs flew from every direction. I got laughing so hard I could barely stand and throw.
At one point I threw a snowball at Parker as he was running toward me and he fell into my arms. Oh my, I thought, you can come into my arms anytime you want, but of course I didn’t say anything. I just dropped him on the ground and stuffed a snowball down the back of his neck.
He got up, yelling, “You rat!” and chased after me with a handful of snow. Finally catching me, he threw me on the ground, sat on top of me, and washed my face with snow. Of course, we both were laughing the whole time. Before he got up, he stuffed snow down my back.
Shivering and laughing so hard I could barely get up, I chased after him. but couldn’t catch him. As he ran, however, he was hit by a barrage of snowballs from the other kids.
When it was almost too dark to see, we quit the game and went home. In my house, I went upstairs and took off my clothes, before again going into the bathroom for a nice hot shower. But even though I stayed in the shower for a long time, I couldn’t stop shivering. When I got some pants on, I called Mom, who came to my room and found me sitting on my bed, still shivering. She felt my forehead and told me to put on some pajamas and get into bed. I did, but I was still shivering and my head was hurting.
Mom brought me an electric heating pad and a hot water bottle. Those seemed to warm up the bed but not me. When she took my temperature, it was above 102°. She gave me some hot soup and an aspirin, but I threw them up. I spent a very uncomfortable night. I’m sure I dozed some, but the shivering and headache kept me awake most of the night.
In the middle of the night, when I wasn’t any better, Mom got in bed next to me to share her warmth.
The next morning, I was no better, and Mom told me to stay in bed. I tried to read, but my headache was worse and I couldn’t concentrate. In the afternoon I felt feverish and perhaps a little out of my head, which was pounding. I dozed and slept most of the time, while Mom continued to bring me hot liquids.
In the middle of the night, I woke up. The shivering had stopped, my headache was gone, and I didn’t feel as hot, but my bed and pajamas were soaking. I called Mom. She took my temperature and said it was almost normal. She told me to get out of the wet pajamas while she changed the sheets. Then I lay back down and slept until late morning.
I felt better but too shaky to go down to the kitchen for some lunch, so Mom brought me chicken soup and Saltine crackers. This time they stayed down.
I stayed home the rest of the week. Some vacation! There was no more playing outside. We got about three inches of snow on Thursday and Parker cleared our driveway as well as his own.
When he finished, Mom invited him in for lunch. Stamping the snow from his boots in our back entry, he looked at me and said, “Well, I guess we know who won that war.”
“You just wait,” I said. “The war isn’t over yet.” But it was, because we didn’t have any more good snowball snow for the rest of the winter.
In March another snowstorm hit on a Tuesday and school was canceled for the day. There was less snow and it was lighter, so after clearing our driveways and having a quick lunch, Parker and I went over to the skating pond and helped shovel it off before we skated. It seemed like every kid in the town was there. Someone built a big bonfire where we gathered and warmed up before returning to skating.
Meanwhile, the newspapers continued to print occasional articles about homosexuals in the State Department. More men and women were let go. Their names were never published, and sometimes I wondered what became of them.
There were also articles which mentioned where the homosexuals gathered. Apparently one of their favorite places was Lafayette Park. Much to my surprise another favorite place was the grounds of the Washington Monument. Other places included the YMCA as well as some bars and private apartments.
One article I read said that up until about 1947, Washington had actually been very friendly to openly queer folks. The reporter wrote that, with the tremendous growth of Washington in the twentieth century, thousands of men and women moved to the city looking for work. In addition, he thought the war, which brought great numbers of men together in single-sex units, also contributed to the free-wheeling homosexual culture of the time. Since the State Department was expanding, thousands of low-skill jobs for secretaries, file clerks, and the like became available, and many of them were originally filled by homosexuals.
Dr. Alfred Kinsey’s famous and, in the opinion of many, scandalous study of sexuality in American men pointed out that at least 4% of men were queer and always had been and that some 37% had had at least one homosexual experience.
The reaction to this study fed into the growing concern about homosexuals in government. Some politicians, including Senator Joseph McCarthy, began calling homosexuals “security risks” because they were assumed to be open to blackmail by communist sympathizers. I never read of any of them actually giving away government secrets and, in fact, most of them were too low-level to know secrets.
By April, there were daily articles, many of them satirical, about the State Department and other government offices, and about a general decline in morals. The Washington policer began “Pervert Elimination Campaigns” in the city’s parks, and many were arrested, most of them on misdemeanor charges, which were about all that law enforcement had to work with at the time.
So of course, I had become extremely anxious, wondering what would happen if someone figured out about me. I wondered what my parents would say, and what people at school would say. I felt like I was bending over backwards to not call attention to myself.
Our April school vacation always included April nineteenth, a state holiday, which marked Paul Revere’s Ride and the Battle of Lexington and Concord. During the vacation Mom took me to Hyannis to buy some new school clothes as I was rapidly outgrowing the old ones and there weren’t many hand-me-downs in my new size.
School clothes in those days included cotton, buttoned shirts, gabardine slacks, and brown leather shoes. T-shirts, sneakers, and blue jeans were not considered appropriate for school, although T-shirts and sneakers were okay for gym.
That year, Easter happened to be on the last Sunday of our vacation, so both my brothers came home for the weekend. My older one, William, greeted me on our front lawn with a big hug before murmuring in my ear, “So how’s my favorite fairy doing?”
I froze. I was terrified. How did he know? What did he know?