Josh became a regular visitor on weekends. After school got out for the summer he often spent several days at a time with us. He was a willing worker and the whole family enjoyed his company. His grandparents were no longer living, so he took to calling our grandfather, “Grandpa,” which everybody seemed to be comfortable with.
I learned a lot about farming that summer. I had always thought that all farmers did was plant the crops and harvest them. But getting the crops in the ground was only the beginning. There was constant work — hoeing and weeding the huge vegetable garden and weeding and mounding the potato tubers. I continued to enjoy the work, but I hadn’t told anybody yet although I’m not sure why. Maybe they could figure it out by the way I worked.
Of course there was also the care of the animals. Fortunately, the cows could pasture in the summer, so feeding them was not such a chore. I took over milking them as well as mucking out the stalls while Derek took over washing and brushing them, which Grandpa had done before. Grandpa continued to care for the pigs.
And then there was haying. When Grandpa told us we would be haying for the next few days I wondered why it would take so many days. Didn’t you just mow the stuff? Well, I learned otherwise; there was a lot more to it.
Grandpa had been listening to the weather reports daily waiting for a series of days when there would be no rain. Dry conditions, we learned, were crucial for a few days when the hay was cut. He also explained that the best time to harvest was after the hay first flowered and that we could get at least two hay harvests in the summer, although the second one wouldn’t be as good.
Selecting his day, he hooked the tractor up to the mower and headed out for the hayfield as the four of us followed behind with hay rakes. As he mowed through the field, our job was to rake the hay into rows. It took all day just to cut and rake the field. The next day we had to turn all the rows over so the hay would dry evenly. The next day we did it again. Grandpa explained that if we baled the hay before it had dried it could spontaneously combust in the barn, so we were very careful.
When he was satisfied that the hay was dry, he attached the baler to the tractor and drove to the field while we followed behind with our rakes, using them to be sure that the baler picked up all the hay. The baler was a wonderful invention which scooped up the hay, compressed it, and spat it out again in finished bales.
Once the hay had all been baled, Grandpa got the truck and towed the wagon to the field with us riding in it. As he drove slowly through the field the four of us loaded the bales onto the wagon.
When the wagon was full he drove back to the barn where he had a conveyer belt to carry the bales up to the hayloft. Josh and Derek worked below, loading the bales onto the belt while Grandpa, Teddy and I received the bales in the loft and stacked them the way Grandpa wanted them. Then he towed the wagon back to the field for more bales.
By the time we were finished we were extremely weary. We four boys grabbed bars of soap and went to our swimming hole, where we washed off the sweat and hay stubble and dust which had seemed to get into every nook and crevice. Then we lay in the late afternoon sun, drying off. Teddy fell sound asleep and we had to wake him when it was time to go back to do our chores.
Of course it was back to hoeing, weeding, and mounding the next day. The only days we got off were when it was raining too hard for us to work, and there weren’t many of those.
One evening at supper, Grandpa asked Josh, “What do your parents think of you spending so much time here? Don’t they miss you?”
“Well, Grandpa, I don’t know if they miss me or not. They never say anything if they do. But they do like that I finally have friends and they like that I’m working, and getting a lot of exercise, and I’m probably healthier than I’ve ever been. I used to get sick a lot, but this spring and summer I’ve been really well, so I guess that’s why they approve of me coming here.”
At night, Josh slept on the floor, or rather he began on the floor. Sometimes he ended up with me in bed, although that was rather uncomfortable on hot nights. More often, I slept on the floor with Josh, and sometimes the other two boys joined us.
Lying beside him after we had been working, I became aware that Josh had a certain scent which I grew to love. It was a combination of sweat and soil with a little hay sometimes mixed in. I eventually stole one of his used T-shirts and hid it in my bed so I could smell him even when he was at home.
One Sunday afternoon when all of us were sitting on the porch wondering what to do, Josh said, “C’mon Gregory. I want to show you something in the barn.”
“Can we come?” inquired Derek.
“Not this time. Why don’t you guys play ball for a while and then we’ll all go for a swim.”
When we got to the barn, Josh began to climb the ladder to the loft, motioning me to follow.
In the loft, Josh lay down on some loose hay and pointed for me to do the same.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I thought,” replied Josh slowly, “that it’s about time we began to figure something out.”
“What?”
“Whether or not you’re gay.”
I was silent. There was that question again, the one I’d been avoiding, although Josh had asked it from time to time. Finally I sighed and said, “But I don’t know whether I am or not.”
“Well, I know you enjoy sleeping beside me and,” he smiled slyly, “I know you stole one of my smelly T-shirts which you keep hidden in your bed.”
I’m sure I blushed crimson.
“So, do you want to find out?”
“I’m not sure. I’m not certain I could take all the flak you’ve had. I don’t think I’m as strong as you.”
“But everybody at school already thinks you’re a faggot so what difference will it make to them?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do.”
After a moment, Josh said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll do a few things with you and any time you get feeling uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop.”
I was silent again for a long time before I finally said, “OK.”
Josh turned to face me, lifted my shirt a bit, and began rubbing his hand over my stomach and chest. When I didn’t stop him he told me to sit up. Then he peeled off my shirt before removing his own. We lay back down and again he rubbed his hand on my chest. Tentatively, I placed my hand on his chest and began rubbing gently.
“You OK?” asked Josh.
“So far.”
Leaning over, Josh licked one of my nipples and then bit it gently.
“Oh, wow!” I exclaimed. “That feels great.”
Nodding, Josh moved up and gently tongued my ear. A little shiver went through me as I smiled.
Running his tongue in and around my ear, Josh reached down and undid my belt buckle.
“What are you doing?”
“Just wait and enjoy. And remember to stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” He unzipped my jeans and ran his hand on the crotch of my underwear, feeling the already hard erection beneath.
Standing, he removed his own jeans then bent down and pulled off mine. Then, kneeling beside me, he raised my hips a little and pulled down my underpants. He gazed at my erection and, even though I knew he had seen me naked many times, he said, “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”
I giggled a little and shook my head. I was feeling very nervous, yet I liked what Josh was doing. Each time he did something it was a new, wonderful sensation. My erection was almost aching for relief and I knew I would come very soon, but I said nothing.
Josh bent over and kissed my cock. Then he gently took it in his hand and began to slide his hand up and down slowly. I groaned and tilted my head back. Sensing I was about to come, Josh slowed even more. I arched my back and moaned. Then I came, wonderfully throbbing again and again. When he knew I was finished he sat up beside me.
“Oh!” I exclaimed. “That was wonderful!” I propped myself up on my elbows as my cum ran off my chest and into my belly button before it continued down to the hair in my groin. “Does that mean that I’m really gay?” I asked.
“No,” he replied. “I’m not sure that it means anything except that you enjoyed it. I guess the real test will come when you decide finally whether you like girls as much as you do boys. I don’t think you need to rush that. Just enjoy what you’re doing and feeling for right now.”
“Do you want me to do you?”
“Do you want to?”
“I’m willing to try it, but I don’t think I’ll be as good at it as you are.”
So Josh lay beside me and I followed all of what he had done, enjoying holding his hot cock in my hand as he throbbed and came.
When we finished I looked at him and asked, “Josh, have you ever done this with anybody else?”
“Never. It just seemed like now was the right time.”
We stood up, used some hay to clean ourselves, dressed, and went down to find the other boys.
“What were you doing?” asked Teddy, ever curious.
“Grown up stuff,” Josh replied.
“I bet I can guess!” giggled Derek.
“If you can, keep your mouth shut,” I said.
“OK,” Derek giggled again.
Once again we walked through the woods, Charlie leading the way to the swimming hole. There we stripped and enjoyed the cold water, laughing, dunking, and splashing each other as usual before climbing out to bask naked in the sun.
Lying there, I looked over at Josh’s equipment once again. I certainly did like it. He caught me looking and chortled quietly while he looked at mine before we both looked away.
On an evening in early August, Grandpa and I were sitting on the porch after the two younger boys had gone to bed. Grandpa was in his favorite rocker while I sat on the steps watching the fireflies.
Ever since Grandpa had told me about what had happened with Dad and our uncles, the two of us had gotten along much better. I still had my little flare-ups but I had learned to respect him and to apologize when I was unintentionally rude.
We were sitting in companionable silence when Grandpa said, “tell me about Josh.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well how you met him, what he’s like in school, why you like him.”
I certainly didn’t want to say anything at all about The Fag Table, so I simply said that at my first lunch, Josh was sitting alone so I sat with him, and as we talked we began to become friends.
“I guess he’s pretty smart in school,” I continued. “I know he plans to go on to college. He says he wants to get out of here to some place where there are lot more people.”
“And what about you? Do you want to go to college and get out of here?”
“I really did when we got here, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve grown to love farming and being outside and feeling like I’m accomplishing something. Maybe I could go to a college where I could learn more about farming.”
Grandpa nodded silently then said, “Good idea.” Again we sat in silence for a time before Grandpa asked, “Is Josh gay?”
I froze. Wow! That’s a conversation stopper, I thought. Finally I asked, “Why do you ask?”
“Well, when you met him he was all alone, he still seems to be all alone except for you and your brothers, and he never mentions a girl. Has he ever said anything to you?”
Reluctantly I nodded. “Yeah, he’s gay. But he’s a nice kid and he shouldn’t be all alone!”
“No, he shouldn’t.”
So I told Grandpa about our table, about the name-calling, about how Jesse sat with us and then other boys began to until now both Josh and I had other friends in the school.
Grandpa took some time, as though absorbing what he’d been told before asking quietly, “And are you gay?”
Shit! I thought. How do I answer that? Finally I said, “I don’t honestly know,” and then I went on to tell him about my doubts. I didn’t really get into my feelings because I still felt that they were just too private. Nor did I tell him what Josh and I had been doing in the loft.
After more silence Grandpa said, “Well, I just want you to know that if you are, it’s OK with me. I don’t judge people that way, and there’s some history in this family which I’m not ready to talk about yet, but someday I will.”
I thought I might die of curiosity. What history? Was somebody in my family gay? I couldn’t imagine who. I was pretty certain Dad hadn’t been and how could a jock like Uncle Glen be gay? Aren’t gays kinda sissies like me? Surely they don’t play football, of all things!
Unable to pursue the conversation any farther, I stood up, gave Grandpa a hug and a quiet, “Thanks,” and went to bed.
I lay awake a long time that night, even after I had jerked off in the lavatory.
At one point, Teddy awoke crying. I asked him what was wrong and he said he’d had a bad dream. “Do you want to come and sleep with me?” I asked.
Without saying anything, Teddy climbed out of bed, came over to my bed, his bear in his arms, and lay down in the space I had made for him. “Thanks, Greg,” he said. Then he reached up, kissed me on the cheek, rolled over and went back to sleep.
As I continued to lie awake I thought about my conversation with Grandpa. I knew I was young, but I really wanted to find out whether I was gay or not. How could I settle that? Should I start trying to date girls? But I didn’t like girls. Most of them seemed to me to be silly and snobs and much too into how they looked. With a sigh I rolled on my side to face Teddy, closed my eyes, and finally slept.