(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders, © copyright 2000, all rights reserved)

When his parents got divorced, Douglas was really upset. Not that he hadn’t seen it coming. Lois had been bad tempered for quite a long time, where her husband, Raymond, was concerned. This had begun well before his father found solace elsewhere and then insisted on a divorce. The youngster blamed his mother.

His father’s new wife had two children of her own from a previous marriage. Both women made visitation difficult. As a result, Doug seldom saw his dad any more. He missed him terribly.

Now Lois seemed all too often to be angry with Doug. Perhaps he reminded her of Raymond or she thought that there might be something wrong with him. He hid his own anger under a cloak of silent indifference, much as his father had behaved prior to the divorce. And Doug promised to become an edition of his dad, when he attained his full height in about four years. Then he would be handsome, now he was a pretty fourteen year old.

Pretty boys can have a tough time of it in high school. Douglas was teased for being gay. This was particularly difficult for him, because he was. Not that he was out. He tried to act like other boys, but couldn’t carry it off. He wasn’t physically inept, but indifferent to athletics. He didn’t swagger or boast, and he found it impossible to pretend an interest in girls that he didn’t feel.

His dad had understood and loved him anyway, had reassured his son that he was fine the just the way he was. Having no one else to turn to, he turned inward, became withdrawn and preoccupied. He forgot things and was clumsy. His mother complained and told him to “straighten up.” She probably didn’t realize what those words might mean to Douglas.

*****

Mr. Broughton lived two houses up, on the same side of the street, and at the top of the hill, in a big, dark brown, shingle sided house with a large front porch. He had been divorced for a couple of years and had two daughters, seven and nine, who lived with him. When Raymond moved out, Mr. Broughton was quietly sympathetic to Douglas’s mother.

Gradually, they saw more of each other. Lois liked having an understanding person to listen to her troubles. After the no fault divorce, she invited Mr. Broughton to have dinner with them. She told her female friends that Douglas needed a good, strong man as a role model.

Mr. Broughton got a sitter for Susan and Nancy and came by himself. Douglas thought that his mother was trying to replace his father and was more sullen than usual. After Bill left, she admonished her son severely and grounded him for a week. Rudeness to a guest was not to be tolerated, she said.

Doug was on his best behavior and particularly polite when he was at Mr. Broughton’s house the following week for a return dinner there. He even pretended to like the daughters, who were fussy and wined, though he kept his distance from them. It didn’t occur to him that they might be as upset as he was by intrusions such as these.

After the exchange of invitations, the two adults began to date. Douglas was drafted into babysitting the girls. Luckily they were put to bed before Bill and Lois left, so he didn’t have to deal with them except to be there in case of an emergency. He hated it and rebelled by leaving key books and materials at home so that he couldn’t do his homework properly. His mother scolded him for not paying attention to what he needed and making sure he brought the right things with him.

*****

It was Mr. Broughton, who brought up with Lois, his strained relationship with her son. But when she started to apologize for Douglas, he stopped her. “It isn’t his fault,” Bill said. “He’s always been a good kid, but now he’s in mourning.”

“Mourning?” Lois queried, somewhat taken aback by his defense of her recalcitrant offspring.

“He was very close to his father and now he’s lost that. It’s only natural that he would resent me.”

“But we can’t have it, can we,” she insisted.

“I have a suggestion,” he said.

And he did. Mr. Broughton told her that he and a few friends shared an inland cabin where they went hunting and fishing. He and one of the other club members had reserved the place for an upcoming, long weekend. There would be room for Douglas to come along. If he and Doug spent some time together, Bill proposed, the boy might come around.

“You could take the girls for the weekend, which wouldn’t be such a bad idea either,” he suggested.

“He wont like it,” Lois said.

“We get the kids together and tell them at the same time, both of us. We tell them, this is how it’s going to be. They’re children, they’ll accept it.”

“He’ll spoil your weekend,” Lois prophesized.

“Leave that to me,” Bill said in a tone of authority that Lois particularly liked to hear.

*****

Doug was his usual, silent self on the ride through the Maine countryside. He looked out the window at the passing fields and farm houses interspersed with more recent ranch style homes. Gradually these gave way to longer stretches of woodland, mainly scrub at first, then stands of maple, oak and pine. He sat as close to the window as he could manage and still be comfortable.

It was just the two of them. Mr. Hammond would be arriving in his own car. Mr. Broughton didn’t try to start a conversation, knowing that it would be useless at the present moment. The monotony of views of rundown properties with junk cars in the yards got to Doug and his mind wandered. Even so, he kept his unseeing eyes pointed out the window.

When they arrived at the cabin, Mr. Hammond’s car, a new buick, was already there. Mr. Broughton’s was a Ponitac station wagon. Bill introduced Doug to the big, red faced man. Mr. Hammond grumbled something and then said to the boy, “I haven’t had a chance to unload my car. Go bring everything in,” in a preemptory tone that Doug found insulting.

The man had parked his car in a poor location, Doug thought. It was in the middle of the only patch of mud to be found. The back of the car was stuffed with gear. The youngster pulled out as much as he could manage to carry in one load and returned to the cabin. So loaded it was difficult to open the door, he stumbled in.

“Be careful with those fishing poles,” Mr. Hammond admonished him. “They’re expensive. You shouldn’t take so much at a time.”

“Where should I put everything?” Doug asked.

“And look at the mess you’ve traced in. Your shoes are caked with dirt,” the man continued.

Shamefaced, the boy turned to look and nearly dropped the whole load.

“Be careful, I told you,” Mr. Hammond said angrily. “Don’t move, you’ll only spread that mud everywhere.”

The man came over to him and took the fishing rods. “Wait right there,” he instructed. He leaned the rods in a corner of the room and returned to take the rest of the items Doug had brought.

“Now go outside and clean your shoes, then get a dust pan and brush and clean up that mess,” the man ordered. Although annoyed by this treatment, the youth did as he was told. The mud was caked on his shoes and difficult to remove completely, so he left his shoes outside to dry and came back inside to take care of the floor.

The brush would only move the gobs into the dust pan. If anything, the floor became more smeared. He found some paper towels in the kitchen, wet a few and tried to clean up the rest.

“Don’t use up all the paper towels for that,” Mr. Hammond complained. “Go get the mop that’s hanging in the back entranceway.” But no sooner had he finished getting the floor cleaned, Mr. Hammond said, “I told you to bring my things from the car.”

Grumbling, Douglas went back outside and put his shoes back on. He brought everything from the back seat of the Buick to the porch, before removing his shoes and lugging it all into the cabin. Then he went out and cleaned his shoes with some more of the damp paper towels.

“Where are my suitcases?” Mr. Hammond asked the boy.

“I didn’t see any,” Douglas answered.

“You didn’t check the trunk, did you. I told you to bring everything in.”

When the lad went back he found the trunk was locked. He had to come back, remove his shoes, now muddy again and go inside to ask for the key. Back outside he put his shoes on and made two trips to bring the contents of the trunk to the porch. Then he removed his shoes and lugged in the suitcases. After that, he had to go back outside to clean the mud off his shoes for the second time.

By the time he went back inside, Mr. Hammond was in his room putting his things away. He didn’t even say thank you. Doug was steaming from exertion and hatred.

*****

The rest of the day there was more of the same; all though lunch, fishing in the afternoon, the cleaning of the fish and preparations for the evening meal, clearing up afterward. Numberless demands from Mr. Hammond followed by berating for not doing things to his satisfaction made Douglas’s day a living hell.

He was so upset by this treatment that he complained to Mr. Broughton. Bill agreed that Mr. Hammond was out of sorts and explained that Joe had some troubles that were affecting his disposition. For a while, Doug was relieved to find his feelings understood and he noted that Mr. Broughton’s behavior toward him, quite unlike Mr. Hammond’s, was kindly. He recognized that this was not anything new, that Bill had always been friendly to him, though somewhat reserved.

But the verbal abuse continued unabated and wore the youngster down. Visibly upset, he went immediately to the room he was sharing with Mr. Broughton, once the dishes finely had been dried and put away to the ogre’s satisfaction. He put on his pajamas, got into bed and tried to forget his troubles in sleep. But the voices of the two men and his tumbling thoughts kept him awake.

Now alone, the distress of the day mingled with the self pity he had been nursing for months. He tried to make his mind blank in an effort to achieve oblivion, but it eluded him. There were repeated sounds of doors opening and closing and of footsteps. Tears welled up in his eyes, he began softly to cry.

The banging and stomping about finally ceased as did the voices, it became quiet, but still the tears flowed. The door opened and Mr. Broughton came in, snapping on the light as he did so. Douglas sat up.

“I want to go home,” he asserted. The boy moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Joe is just leaving,” Bill said. Indeed at that moment the youth heard a car motor start and the sound of tires moving over the gravel of the driveway. Mr. Broughton came and sat down beside the youngster.

“I spoke to him about how he was treating you. He agreed that he has been in a foul mood and has been taking it out on you. We decided that it would be best if he left. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry.”

Douglas just stared at Bill. “You’ve been crying,” the man said. He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I know you’ve been through a tough time, Douglas. It’s all right. You have a right to feel bad. I’m sorry about all this. I only wanted to give you a good time and it’s turned out badly.”

The youngster hugged the man and began to sob. Mr. Broughton took the boy into his arms and held him tight. Douglas barely noticed his hair being smoothed and his back being patted. What he recognized was that this man was comforting him. Quite unexpectedly Bill cared for him. If it registered at all, how his behavior toward Mr. Broughton had been similar to Mr. Hammond’s treatment of him, it didn’t occur to the lad as a conscious thought.

Bill waited patiently until the boy’s shaking subsided to weeping. Then he got Douglas to lie back down and get under the covers. He stripped down to his underwear and got into the other side of the bed. Offering his arms to the lad, the youngster buried himself in the man’s embrace.

At some point, as Bill’s caresses wandered further over his body, the youth became aware of his own sexual excitement. By some miraculous means, the man he loathed tuned into the man he loved. But things did not proceed any further that night. Eventually, they both slept.

*****

The next morning Bill and Doug got up early and went on a long hike through the countryside. They had a pickup lunch from a convenience store in a little town at about one o’clock. Only then did they turn back in the direction of the cabin.

In an effort to get the boy’s mind off of his troubles, Mr. Broughton kept the conversation light. He moved quickly to distract Douglas, if the youngster mentioned anything that could lead to unhappy thoughts. Bill felt that lots of exercise and a joyful day would be beneficial.

It was late afternoon by the time they got back. Mr. Broughton set Douglas the task of bringing in fire wood while he prepared the evening meal. Several cords where stored behind the cabin. The large holding bin inside had been drawn down to empty, so it took a good dozen armloads to till it. The youth was relieved that there was no mud that he had to pass through in order to complete this chore.

After dinner, Bill said that he felt grimy and was going to take a shower, and suggested to Doug that he could probably use one too. The lad acknowledged that he should, but was tired and dawdled. So Mr. Broughton showered first.

When the boy got out of the shower, Bill was standing in front of the mirror, shaving. “Do you always shave twice a day?” Douglas asked, while he dried himself.

“Sometimes,” Mr. Broughton said, nonchalantly. The man smiled and said, “You’ll have to do this yourself soon. Come here, let’s have a look.”

When the youngster came to him, Bill tilted the kid’s chin and looked for any sign of nascent whiskers. He ran finger tips over Doug’s upper lip. “Nothing yet,” the man announced.

“I’m expecting some any day,” the youngster claimed, proudly. Then Douglas touched Mr. Broughton’s cheek. He could feel the slight roughness that the razor couldn’t hope to remove. Bill bent and kissed the boy on the lips. Doug kissed back avidly and they embraced in a similar vein. Mr. Broughton nuzzled the kid’s neck.

“Why don’t you get the spare blanket from the foot of the bed? We can snuggle up on the coach and watch a little TV,” Bill suggested. He put on a news channel, but they didn’t really pay much attention to it. Having discarded the towels they were warn and naked under the shared blanket.

After a while they were both sticky and decided to take another shower, this time together. The two washed each other, as lovers do. For the first time that he could remember, Douglas felt someone else’s fingers deep in the crevice of his behind. At that moment, Mr. Broughton whispered something into his ear that made the boy shiver with excitement. But it was several weeks before they did it.

*****

Tuesday morning, back at work in his office, Mr. Broughton called Mr. Hammond. “How did everything work out, after I left?” Mr. Hammond asked.

“Perfect, Joe. Thanks for your help,” Bill responded, acknowledging his debt. “I don’t think the boy will give Lois and me any more difficulty.”

“Always glad to help out a friend,” Joe offered. In fact, he would be interested in Lois himself, in spite of already being married. Instead he was a being a really good friend, to assist Bill in clearing away a problem. Still, if things didn’t work out between the two, he might have an inside track. He would be sure to let Lois know, when he had the chance, that he had done everything he could to help her son adjust to the new situation.

*****

Mr. Broughton waited for Douglas to appreciate the limitations of the present arrangement. They were able to see each other frequently, but seldom with privacy nor for long enough. The boy’s desires were now kindled and, at the same time, frustrated. Even so he was much happier.

Lois was pleased with the change that Bill had wrought in her son. His constant complaining had ceased. His sour disposition lifted, but not in a way that placed demands on her for attention. The youngster seemed more self assured, self contained and self reliant.

The two half families spent more time in each others’ company. They alternated locations for three or four meals a week. Most weekends they attended at least one event together.

One Thursday evening, when they were all at Mr. Broughton’s house, Bill asked Douglas to help him move some things he had stored in the attic. When they got there, Doug got the hug and kiss that he had expected was the purpose of the venture. That was only partially the case.

Bill gestured toward the large space contained under the rafters. “It wouldn’t take much to make this a fine place for a teenage boy. Lots of room and plenty of privacy, if the door had a slide bolt on the inside.”

The youngster gave the man a look of incomprehension.

“If it was turned into your bedroom, I mean,” Mr. Broughton elaborated.

“How could that happen?” Douglas stammered. “I live with mom.”

“It could happen if your mother and I got married,” Bill proposed. Doug sat down on a dusty trunk that was conveniently placed for use by anyone staggered by a suggestion.

“Then we’d all live together, here,” the man continued. “I’d put a slide bolt on the door to keep the girls from wandering in and your mother wouldn’t want to come up here anyway. We’d have privacy and a lot more time together.”

“You don’t think mom would get suspicious of your being up here with me?” Douglas cautioned.

“Lois wants a husband, but she doesn’t want much sex or to spend a lot time with him. It’s bringing up the girls that really interests her.”

*****

Lois thought it was very peculiar that Bill wanted Douglas to be his best man at the wedding, but he explained that it was all part of making her son feel part of the new family. It was the same sort of thing as having the two daughters be flower girls. He reminded her of how Doug had been acting right after the divorce and how fine he was now. This wedding was a joining of two families, after all.

And this occurred somewhat more than Lois thought it would. She had expected that Doug would be going away to college in a few years. Her reaction was one of surprise, when he elected to commute to the university rather than live in the dorms. Even after graduation, he continued to live at home, in what was now a studio apartment in the attic.

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