The next couple of weeks were the best of James’ life. It was obvious Freddie cared for him, and that made all the difference in his attitude. He’d never felt he was liked, let alone loved, so he’d decided he wasn’t either. Knowing that Freddie had feelings for him, actually had a crush on him, had changed that.
He’d never had much confidence dealing with other people, adults or kids. But if Freddie liked him, he had to be worth more than he’d always felt he was.
James was fitting into new living arrangements and was loving them. Mrs. Ramirez was a warm and outgoing woman in her sixties, and she saw in James a wounded animal. It was her nature to help. She made him all the dishes he liked, and snacks were always available, and she never failed to smile and hug him when she saw him. She also managed to save an extra dessert for him at night. He’d never eaten so well in his life.
Mrs. Clausen was a different matter. Freddie had seemed almost dismissive of her, so James had been reticent with her at first. But, after spending just a little time with her, James wondered if the problem was more with Freddie than with her. She was wonderful with James. James couldn’t figure it out but thought that Freddie might be jealous of all the time she spent out of the house, time not spent with him, or maybe it came from when he was grieving his father’s death, when he really needed his mother, and she hadn’t been available enough for him.
But she was available to James, and importantly, in just the right amount. He wasn’t used to being fussed over, and it would have been easy for him to feel smothered, yet Mrs. Clausen seemed to know instinctively when to be supportive with a cuddle or praise or just to talk and when to back off. But that she liked him, liked him a lot, was obvious. He liked her, too! And as for cuddling, he didn’t think he could ever have too much. Mrs. Clausen was very good at it, an excellent hugger and fusser-overer. Freddie’s loss, James thought, and didn’t mind getting all the attention he could get.
Another possibility for Freddie’s lack of responsive emotions with his mother, James realized, was just that Freddie could be going through the natural rebellion of a middle teen pulling away from his parents, feeling the need to stoke his growing independence.
James and Freddie spent hours each day with the trains. Freddie had never seen James smile as much as he did during those sessions. They each ran two trains, which meant four were running simultaneously. They quickly decided, after a crash, that they should draw up a schedule so there’d be no two trains on the same track coming at each other. Scheduling was just another fun thing they were doing together, giving them a chance to argue and dispute and do so with no friction at all. It was an education for both of them.
They were also deciding how they should expand the layout. James wanted to add a long tunnel. Freddie wanted an elevated section of tracks. This resulted in their decision to have a lower section of tracks, not just the single layer they had now, as well as a higher one. Freddie had helped his father make the base of the track layout from 3/4” plywood sheets and supporting trestles of two-by-fours. Now they both made several more of these but at heights that varied from the rest of the layout.
They figured out how to wed their two ideas of elevated tracks and a tunnel together, then went to the store to buy parts they didn’t have that were needed to construct the additions.
It was James who came up with the idea of lights. Freddie jumped at it, and soon their villages had streetlights and traffic lights and the houses had lights in their windows. It took hours to put them all in, and they worked them in harmony.
When the attic was dark, they hit the switch together, and the whole setup was bathed in the small lights; they both oohed and aahed; the appearance was amazing.
The hours they spent with the trains cemented their relationship as much as the nightly physical closeness did. They were experimenting like boys their age did. Freddie proclaimed to James that he was indeed gay. He couldn’t imagine finding the joy he had with James with a girl, nor did he want to. He knew now he both understood and loved James completely. How could he ever be that much in tune with a girl? Why would he even want to be?
Freddie wasn’t one to hold back. The night he first told James he loved him, James was so giddy with happiness that he could hardly hold still. He wanted to yell it to the world.
“You’d have to start with my mom,” Freddie cautioned.
“Your mom won’t mind,” James had said.
“How do you know?”
James smiled. “Unlike you, I talk to her. All the time. You hardly do at all. I told her I was gay. She said she’d thought I was, and she thought you might be, too. And she said she loved how cute we were together. I told her no, that was just me.”
Freddie jumped on him and wrestled him to the bed. What happened next was how two teenagers in love expressed what they were feeling.
James was still practicing his horn. No matter what Freddie was doing, James found the time to do that. James practiced an hour in the morning and an hour at night. Soon, he noticed Freddie was practicing more, too. He had to wonder: was it possible that Freddie was worrying about retaining his principal horn chair in the school orchestra if James made it through his audition and actually enrolled at the school?
He was confident, as confident as James could be about anything, that he’d do fine at the audition. He wasn’t confident at all about gaining a scholarship, though. That seemed to be out of his hands.
One of the things Freddie did with James was go shopping. James had rarely done that before. Never with his father and only rarely with his mother. Now, as frequently as they needed to buy things for their train layout, shopping became a normal activity. And then Mrs. Clausen stepped in.
“James,” she said at dinner one night, “I don’t want to embarrass you, and please don’t take this that way, but I think Freddie needs to take you to the mall. You’ve outgrown some of your clothes, and when you get into Freddie’s school, you’ll need to wear the same sort of things the boys there wear. I’ll give Freddie my credit card. Freddie, buy him what he needs. You know what is better than I would. Buy enough so he’ll have nice things to wear to school every day.”
And so they went shopping. Clothes were something James had never shopped for. Freddie made sure he got just the right things for James. Clothes, shoes, a jacket, incidentals. James was shocked at the cost, and Freddie told him his mother wouldn’t even notice.
They had fun shopping together. Of course, buying the correct clothing in the correct sizes meant many trips to the fitting rooms. The attendant at the store they visited most got tired of seeing them come in with more clothes. There was always too much giggling going on with them together in the room they used. Finally, the last time they entered, the giggling became quite loud, and the attendant had to knock on the door.
“Boys,” he called in to them, “this sort of behavior might be expected at Sears or Marshalls, but Chambers For Gentlemen is not that kind of store. It is inappropriate here.”
Freddie, never at a loss for words, responded with, “Sorry, but we can’t tell if this suit fits. He can’t seem to get it on by himself, and my helping him has, well, made it worse. It’s not working. Maybe we have the wrong size. My curiosity is aroused as to size. I can’t seem to get him stuffed into this bathing suit. We could probably use another hand to help.”
The attendant walked away. He did give them a look when they came out, however, and while James blushed and Freddie grinned, Freddie said they’d take the suit.
They spent over a thousand dollars on clothing and such. James was aghast; Freddie said it was nothing special. He got new clothes at the beginning of each school year, and this is what it cost. No big deal. And as he recalled, it was said that clothes made the man.
Freddie kept James busy. He felt that James was too meek and lacked an adventurous spirit. With anything other than his horn, he was timorous. Freddie wanted to toughen him up, and the way to do that was to introduce him to new experiences. Let him discover for himself that new didn’t have to mean frightening. That new was often wonderful.
Swimming gave him another way to do that.
They were in the pool most every day. James wasn’t a great swimmer. He’d rarely been in a pool growing up. Now there was one just behind the house he was living in, and Freddie swam daily. Freddie had a way of getting James to follow his lead without being obnoxious or too pushy. So, it was natural that when Freddie went swimming, so did James.
It was one evening when it was just getting dark that they were in the pool house changing into their suits when Freddie, with an air of great innocence, said, “Hey, it’s dark out. Well, almost. We don’t need these suits. We can just go naked.”
He got the response he expected: “No way!”
Freddie grinned. “Why not?”
“Mrs. Ramirez is there somewhere. She could see me! Your mother, too.”
Freddie sighed. “Look. I swam naked all the time before you were here. Daylight, nighttime, whenever. Rarely wore a suit. I’ve only been wearing one now so you’d be comfortable. When I was naked, either or both of them could see me. I don’t know if they did or not, but they could have. What difference would it have made if they did?”
When James didn’t answer, Freddie continued. “Look, I’m a healthy young boy. Both of them know what boys look like. So they might look. So what? I don’t care.”
James was shaking his head. “Well, I do. I’d never even seen a naked boy before I saw you, and you’re the only one who’s seen me. No way I can let a woman see me naked!”
“That’s silly! You’re a healthy young boy, too, even a little healthier than I am, if you’ll excuse the play on words. They most likely won’t see you, and if they do, they won’t comment on it. You need to get over yourself. You just look like you’re supposed to look. And I’ll tell you what: once you’ve swum bare, you’ll never want to wear a suit again.”
His voice became pleading. “Come on. Let’s do this.” Seeing James frown, he said, “Well, I’m going to.” And so saying, he wrapped a towel around his naked body and walked out onto the pool decking.
James had to think about it. By now it was dark, and the house windows were lit. He knew it would be difficult for anyone in a lighted room to see much of anything that was outside in the dark. And, he was a young boy, and the expected thrill of being outside naked was strong.
He wrapped himself in a towel as Freddie had done and walked outside.
The air was warm and felt delicious on his bare torso and shoulders. Freddie was standing next to the pool, ready to dive in, and just seeing him there in the altogether, coupled with the emotions he was already feeling from being outside nude, made James start to chub up.
He dropped his towel, feeling both embarrassed and jubilant. Outside, where anyone might see him naked and starting to get aroused, Freddie watching him with his Freddie smile, barely perceptible in the light splash from the house—James was awash in emotions. He spoke softly as he approached Freddie. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed.
“It’s the night. Everything feels this way when you’re outside naked in the night. But you are, always have been, and always will be, the beautiful one. Give me your hand.”
James came to him, and they took each other’s hands, and with a nod from Freddie, they jumped into the dark water.
The water was as warm as the air. They swam for a few minutes, and then Freddie moved to the shallow end and waved James over. When they were together, Freddie hugged him and sank to his knees, bringing James with him. The water made both their bodies slippery, and they sensuously slid against each other, touching as much skin as possible. They were both rampant, and those parts were touching, too.
They were silent for a few minutes, and then James panted, “I see why you like this. The water, the air, the night—it’s all so perfect.”
Eventually they got out and used their towels to dry off. They moved to the chairs on the patio. There was a lounger there, and Freddie lay on his side on it and beckoned James to join him. They lay holding each other, locked together till the air began to cool and it was time to go in.
> > >
James had a bicycle, and that gave the two boys a physical activity other than swimming. They lived in an exclusive area in town, which meant there were large, well-tended parks close by. They would frequently ride their bikes to the park. There was an attraction there other than broad sweeps of carefully mowed lawn and playground equipment.
Often in the afternoon, they found a soccer game going on. Freddie insisted they stop and watch. James liked watching boys, but he had had bad experiences in the past with athletic boys. They seemed to be able to tell by osmosis that he wasn’t athletic, and boys will be boys. So James avoided groups like this. But with Freddie there, he wasn’t nervous as he’d have been if he were alone, and there were those boys running around to look at, and many of them were shirtless and most of them were cute.
Freddie insisted they watch, and James insisted it was from a far enough distance from the game so they wouldn’t be invited to join in. Freddie reluctantly agreed, but every time they came to the park in the days that followed, Freddie managed to get them closer to the action.
He noticed that these weren’t ordinary soccer matches between teens who enjoyed the competitive nature of the games. In fact, this wasn’t competitive at all. And, secondly, these appeared to be all-comers games. Every time they’d watched, there were kids from about 8 to 16 playing. And the older kids let the younger kids handle the ball as much as they did.
No teasing, no ball-hogging, no rough play. The more Freddie saw what was going on, the more he was thinking this was the perfect venue for introducing James to an activity that included other boys doing something James wasn’t good at but might find fun.
By now, Freddie knew how to push James’ buttons and managed finally to get him on the field. He had to convince him first and did so by pointing out how everyone was playing not to win, not to show off, but to have fun, and they were having fun by including everyone on the field. He made sure James was looking when one of the youngest kids got passed the ball in front of the goal, and how the keeper could have stopped his shot but jumped just too late, how the defender didn’t defend but pretended to, and how happy the youngster was. But even greater, how happy everyone else on the field was.
“You can do this, James. And you can then honestly say you’ve played soccer. Come on. We’re going to do this.”
He almost had to drag James to the field, but James did come along without needing that. He, too, had seen nothing to be scared about.
They joined the game, both on the same team with two players switching sides to keep the numbers even. It was the kind of game where players could switch sides at will. Freddie explained to the guys on their team that neither of them had played before, and one of the older kids said that was true of a lot of the kids playing that day and to just do what seemed right.
They spread out with the others into open spaces. The ball was passed back and forth. When it came to James, there was a defender nearby, but he just stood there and let James stop the ball, then take a step back, come forward and kick the ball to another teammate. James knew who that was because his side was skins. That had been less of a problem for him than Freddie had thought it would be. He credited James’ acceptance of that to their naked swimming.
They played for an hour. Kids would come into the game, others would leave. But the character of the game never changed. It never became competitive. When they were tired and decided they had enough, Freddie and James sat on the grass at the side of the field, resting while the game continued with new players.
“That wasn’t bad, was it?” Freddie asked. James shook his head. “And you’d never have tried it without encouragement, huh?” Another headshake. “So maybe next time you’re invited to do something new, you’ll have just a little less reluctance to say yes?”
James smiled. “Probably not.”
Freddie sighed. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” he said, then pushed James over in the grass and took off running.
> > >
Mrs. Ford called Freddie on the phone and asked if the two of them could come see her. She had some news for them. Freddie said they’d come over that afternoon.
When they were sitting in her studio with Cokes in their hands, she told them why she’d called.
“I’ve been in touch with your school, Freddie. I’ve told them I have an outstanding young horn player who would need a scholarship to be enrolled and to be boarded. I talked to the head of the school and the orchestra director. Both are interested. The top man was cautious about a scholarship; he said they only go to students in need but with superior talents in some area. I assured him this was the case in this instance; he was still doubtful. You’ll convince him, James. Don’t worry. I’m not worried at all.”
James wriggled in his seat. This was all-important to him. He valued her support and assurance, but still, this was his future—and his life now.
“The audition is set up for two weeks from today. Just before school starts. The director said it should include an excerpt from a piece the orchestra will be playing this year. I couldn’t believe what he has in store for you, Freddie. It’s John Williams’ The Cowboys Overture. That’s not a piece for youth orchestras. Only the very top amateur orchestras could play it. I’ll be attending that concert. I want to hear what a bunch of talented kids can do.”
Freddie grinned at her. “We played Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony last year. And the Candide Overture at tempo. If he thinks we can pull this off, we probably can. I don’t know the piece, though. What’s it like?”
“Like nothing you’ve ever played before. You’ll love it! But James, I have the music for the measures he’s selected for your audition. They’re not beyond you, but you’ll have to work on them.
“Now, what would you like to play that will be your choice?”
James had an easy answer. “I loved that Mozart duet I played with Freddie. K 487 number four. I think if I play numbers one and two of that piece, that would show off what I can do.”
“I don’t know,” Freddie said. “I like the director. He’s stern, though. Has to be with the music he gives us to play and a bunch of squirmy kids. But he has a very narrow and strict view of most things. I’m not sure he’d like just one part of a duet as an audition piece.”
“What I was going to do,” James said, “was tape the bottom part and play that against my live top part. Would he allow that?”
“I’ll find out,” Mrs. Ford said. She used her phone to call the man, spoke briefly, then turned back to James. “He said that was fine as long as he got to hear both parts together; that just the one line wouldn’t be enough; he will permit you to tape and use the tape for the second part of the duet. He’s anxious to hear you now. He knows that duet and said if you’re able to play it, you must be very good.”
She handed James the music for the Mozart and for the Williams piece, told him good luck, but that he was a very talented horn player and luck wouldn’t enter into the audition; he had nothing to worry about. James took a quick glance at the music and shook his head. He had a lot to worry about.