When the bell rang ending this first English class, Alan was out the door and John hurried to catch up. The boy was leaning against the lockers across the hall. John fumbled for something to say.

"Hey," John said, "she's something else, don't you think?"

"You mean Thatcher? Yeah, that's some accent," Alan replied.

"I'm John Bateman, I just moved here from North Carolina."

"Alan Sommers, I was at Eastern. I suppose that means we don't have many friends in common."

"I don't have any friends here at all," John said. "You know, Army brat, we moved around a lot."

Other kids moving in the hall came between them and Alan pulled on John's arm to get them out of the traffic.

"I suppose we have some other classes together," Alan said," I have calculus in second period, that's in D hall."

"You're taking calculus already? I'm still in trigonometry and struggling at that. I have biology during third period, what about you?" John asked.

"I have that one too. Hope you're better at it than I am. See you there," Alan said.

"Yeah, see you," John replied.

He watched Alan hurry away through the crowd and thought, wow, what's with this guy? They had said little in that brief conversation and yet he felt like they were old friends. John's initial assessment was correct, he was a beautiful guy. And those eyes, man, it felt like Alan was looking right into his head. It was unsettling, that he was even thinking about a boy like this at all.

John knew that first impressions were important, so did he make a good one? Not that he ever expected to walk into this new school and fall for the first guy that spoke to him. He knew the attraction was purely physical. But then it was all he had to go on. It had to be a good choice because half the girls in the hall had checked the boy out too. The warning bell rang and John rushed off to his next class.

Trig was a struggle, it always would be. John's mind was constructed for words and ideas, not symbols and numbers. Fortunately today's class was a review of basic principles and that allowed his mind to wander.

Alan, all bright and beautiful, was standing there in a strange light at the end of a long dark hallway. John felt like he was being pulled down the hall towards the distant radiance. His legs trembled as he reached Alan's side and stood in the glow that now surrounded them both. Alan took his hand and led him towards a door which had appeared before them. The door vanished as Alan touched it and they were standing on a beach of sparkling white sand with the bluest water spread out before them. The sun was hot on every part of his body and that's when John noticed they were both naked.

He snapped back from the daydream and heard the teacher droning on about a homework assignment. What, already? He wanted to go back to the daydream. Where had that come from anyway?

But it would serve no useful purpose. John knew he had to focus on this class or face the wrath of his father. Maybe he could get Alan to help with his homework? Yeah, right. He would never be able to concentrate with Alan sitting beside him. But if he was naked, damn, he wanted to go back to that dream. He let out a sigh and the bell rang.

John rushed into the science wing for third period, wanting to be there before Alan so that maybe they could share a table together. He found the classroom and walked into the lab only to find that most of the students were already there.

Alan had a table against the wall but there was already a pile of books in front of the second seat. He was talking to a dark haired girl at the table in front of him. John felt a pang of jealousy as he stood there inside the door, unsure where to sit.

But Alan stood up and with a wave of his hand motioned for John to come over. As he walked through the maze of counters he saw Alan slide the pile of books to the center and put his hand on the chair beside him.

"John, I saved you a seat," Alan said.

"Thanks, I guess that makes us lab partners," he replied.

"I hope so, this isn't one of my strong subjects," Alan laughed. "John this is Jennifer, we went to Eastern together."

"Hello," John said.

"Hi," the girl replied. "Alan said you're from North Carolina, what's it like down there?"

"Nice I guess, I only lived fourteen months at Fort Bragg until my dad got transferred to the Pentagon," John laughed. "Moving around is sort of a specialty in my family."

"Ooo, guys in uniform, how yummy," Jennifer said.

Before John could get in a response their teacher arrived and began to putter about the room.

"Good morning, folks. My name is Banner and this is Biology One. For those of you in here for the first time, welcome. For those of you who are attempting this subject for the second time I suggest you read your assignments a little more carefully after football practice."

The barb was aimed at two muscular types who sat at the back of the room. There were a few smiles but no one laughed at the joke. Banner went around the room asking everyone if they were satisfied with their lab partners. He smiled when he got to our table.

"John Bateman, new student. Are you wrestler by chance?" he asked.

"Wrestler, me? Well, I guess could be, my brother taught me a lot," John replied.

"Good, I'm the assistant coach of the wrestling team here at Montgomery, are you planning to try out next week?"

"Oh, I don't know, sir. I'm no great athlete like my brother."

Alan kicked his ankle under the table and John was startled. He looked over at Alan who gave him a brief nod.

"Uh, I guess I could at least make the tryouts," John stammered.

"Good, we'd love to have you on the team. And what about you, Mr. Sommers, are you interested in wrestling?"

"Not sure, never tried it. I'm still on the swim team over at Wheatley," Alan said.

"Well think about it, you and John look to be a good match up," Banner replied as he moved along to the next table.

John turned to Alan and found him smiling.

"Walking in your brother's footsteps, sounds pretty risky to me," he said.

"What? You were the one kicked me in the shins, what's with that?"

"I just thought it would be the best way for you to get on the inside track around here. School spirit and all that jazz." Alan still had that grin on his face, what was up with him?

"So you want to meet me on the mat, is that it? I'll kick your ass, Mr. Sommers."

"There you go. Sound like a jock already and we're just getting you started."

"I'm no great athlete, my brothers had that honor. Oh what the hell, I'll have fun pinning you to the mat," John said.

"Bet you will too," Alan laughed.

The Old Man had been on a temporary duty assignment at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. This was the first time they had been assigned there. The family would return there again some years later.

They lived off the base in a small two-bedroom house that John's father sublet from a guy who had just been shipped off to Germany. Musical houses was a favorite game of folks in the military and The Bateman family had it down to a science.

John was just about to turn thirteen and had to share a bedroom with his two brothers. They were all feeling the frustration that another move had generated. It was the kind of time that John normally walked very quietly around his family. To make matters worse, he was enduring the changes of puberty and wasn't very happy about what his body was doing to him.

Somehow it had all seemed to sneak up on him without notice. One moment he was a happy little kid and the next he felt like a freak with this huge swollen thing between his legs. There was only one person he trusted enough to ask and that was Brandon.

As brothers they loved one another when they weren't trying to kick each other's ass. John suffered when the Old Man punished his eldest boys. Frank was a stoic and took his beatings in stride as part of family tradition. He was tall enough to look his father in the eye after the belt had done its work and savvy enough to thank him for the lesson. It was always "Thank you, sir, the correction of my attitude is gratefully accepted." Man, John admired him for the guts it took to say that, but then the Old Man knew the boy had learned not to commit that particular sin again anytime soon.

Brandon, on the other hand, was a fighter. It's horrible to say but John thought his father liked spanking Brand best. With tears in his eyes for what was coming, Brandon would drop his pants and lean over the back of a kitchen chair to receive his punishment. The Old Man would fold the wide leather belt in half and slap the two sides together. Brandon would wince at every crack of the belt and grimace with every blow but he never cried out. There were never more than five whacks, and that was reserved for the most major offenses.

Frank did his masturbating in private, occupying the bathroom until someone chased him out. Brandon was less careful, and sometimes he let John watch.

From the time he was nine, John liked to sit on the floor of the bedroom closet and watch Brand shoot off into a sock. John thought that was pretty funny but as he grew the feelings changed. They had talked about sex and he made Brand talk about how he lost his virginity over and over again, it was his favorite story.

Frank lost his in the back seat of their station wagon when he was seventeen. Mary Beth Thompson was his high school sweetheart and now she's the wife and the mother of his children. John felt like Frank got the short end of the stick, but he liked being an uncle.

Brandon, on the other hand, drank two stolen beers at an eighth grade dance party and had sex with the host's older sister while his friends ate cookies and drank insipid red punch in the basement. She was eighteen, he was fourteen. Despite how overwhelmingly sensual Brand painted the experience, in fairness he finally admitted that it lasted all of three minutes from start to finish.

And so one Saturday morning while they were sitting on the closet floor, John invited his experienced older brother to tell him what was happening to his body. He had begun to have wet dreams, waking up only when his boxers were soaked through. Why did his gun shoot off when he wasn't even thinking about pulling the trigger.

"When it starts happening it just…well like, it happens." Not deep, John knew Brand was smarter than that.

"But I think there's something wrong with it. You know, my penis," John said.

"Really? So drop your shorts and show me."

John thought nothing of it. They had been naked around each other their whole lives. Well, at least until this thing began to grow. John pulled down and everything popped out.

"Holy Shit," Brandon said, with a loud snort," you got a whopper there, buddy."

All the attention made John's penis want to stand up and take a bow and so it did. He was sitting with pants and underwear around his ankles and this big hard thing sticking straight out. Brandon started laughing.

"That's really incredible. My little brother is hung like a horse."

So of course Brand had to get a ruler from the desk and hold it up to John's penis. "Whoa, it's almost seven inches long, you're bigger than me. Sure you're only thirteen? Damn, look at it."

"It" became John's cross to bear. But there were other issues at play in his life too. The first time John got beat up in a fight the Old Man treated his wounds and admonished his older brothers to teach him the logistics of fighting. Frank was almost a third degree black belt by then and could kick an apple off the top of their gate post with ease.

Brandon was a hands-on fighter, a wrestler who literally swarmed all over his opponents. Between the two of them John learned what pain meant. His lessons became like some kind of hellish boot camp. But they did it because they loved him and John tried to be grateful, but only after the bruises healed.

The day finally arrived when one of John's stupid classmates backed him into a corner after school. John realized it was against his nature to hurt someone. It was not the way of the Buddha. The kid threw a punch and John's reflexes took over. He blocked the first punch and the second. But when the kid went to kick him in the crotch John grabbed the leg and slammed the boy in the chest with the palm of his hand.

After that fight in eighth grade, John was left alone for the year. That solved one dilemma, but the other wouldn't go away. By then his penis had grown almost the length of Brandon's ruler.

"Are you in there, John?" A voice asked.

"Huh?"

"You were having a severe daydream," Alan said.

"Sorry, it was something you said," John replied.

"Yes, I imagine it was," Alan said.

That statement shocked John, what did Alan mean? Mr. Banner was writing their assignment on the blackboard and John covered his embarrassment by copying it in his notebook.

Alan was leaning on his arm and seemed to be studying the textbook when John took a quick glance his way. Alan's eyes were on the page but it seemed like they were focused a million miles away. It was a trance-like state that John found very familiar.

John went up to the front desk to pick up the project schedule Mr. Banner was handing out but Alan never moved while he was gone. Stop at the central reference shelf on his way back to the table, he looked across at Alan in that contemplating state. It was unnerving to think of him as such a beautiful creature.

His conscience nagged, it wasn't fair to think of Alan as just a pretty creature. Alan had a life and maybe someday he would gain some insight in that direction. Why did Alan accept his friendship so easily? Better yet, why did he want to be Alan's friend so badly?

Alan slowly closed the book as the bell rang and John returned to their table.

"I have lunch now, how about you?" John asked.

"Yeah, lunch. We eat together," Alan replied. John could tell that Alan was drifting back from some far away state of mind. It must have been an intense daydream. But Alan seemed to share it off and jumped up with a flourish of his hand." Let us be off to the feeding grounds and see what fate awaits us," he said in a dramatic English accent. Then in plain American," Cafeteria food just kills me, I usually don't eat at school."

"I brought a sandwich," John said.

"Ahh, the lucky man gets the kitchen wench to fix lunch. Any morsels to spare for a hungry beggar?" Alan replied, continuing the act.

"Actually I made it myself," John said." Ham and cheese, you can have half, if you want?"

"Only a true friend offers half his nourishment. I am forever in your debt," Alan said with a bow.

"Have I known you in another life?" John asked," it sure seems like it."

"Maybe? I have an easy face to forget. We could have been friends for years and you just don't remember."

"Oh, I'd remember you somehow," John replied, embarrassed at the familiarity that statement engendered.

"I hope so," Alan said, tossing him a smile. The moment seemed frozen in time and they both stared at one another across the table. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Alan's eyes became soft with a twinkle of humor behind them. Again John felt like the boy was looking into his thoughts. It was a bit disturbing.

They sat at a lunch table amidst the chaos of four hundred other students. Only the smart ones had brought their own lunch. John was re-introduced to Jennifer and two other Eastern girls, one named Tammy and the other named Crystal. Alan seemed to have lots of female friends and they were all smitten with him. John couldn't blame them.

Alan acted like a gracious host at the table, including John in every conversation and explaining things he needed to know to keep up. By the end of lunch the group seemed comfortable with the new guy. John felt accepted and Alan seemed to enjoy what he had created.

After lunch John went to gym class while Alan was taking French. John didn’t see him again until Social Studies class during fifth period. Mr. Bell was their teacher for this class and John was delighted when he discovered the man was a fellow Buddhist.

He had not told Alan about his spiritual leaning. Information like that would come later when they had some personal time. Yes, he did want to see Alan outside of school but wasn't sure how to introduce the subject. For seventh period they had History together. All together they had four periods and lunch to share.

As the final bell rang, John asked Alan how he got home.

"I'm saving up for a car," Alan said," until then, I ride the bus."

"Yeah, me too. Maybe my father will let me have the car this weekend, think of something we could do, ok?" There, that was easy enough, he thought.

"All right, I'll see you tomorrow," Alan said. Hefting his book bag, he placed a hand on John's shoulder.

"You'll make a good friend, John Bateman, thanks." A gentle squeeze and he turned to go.

John stood rooted to the floor of the hallway and watched him walk away. Alan had just said exactly what he had been thinking. The line about being a good friend still echoed in his head. How did he do that?

The bus ride home was totally lame and John longed for the chance at getting his own vehicle. He had saved up almost a thousand dollars and had his eye on a VW Beetle. They seemed to be everywhere nowadays.

But the car wouldn't happen until he had proven himself in the new school. The Old Man had made that quite clear. John was the youngest, and the last, which meant his father would only grudgingly admit that he was growing old. With the two older boys away the pressure seemed enormous.

John waited until Thursday to ask about using the car. The past several days at school had gone like a dream, made special because Alan stood beside him. The friendship gave him a reason to bounce out of bed every morning and look forward to a day of learning.

After dinner and the obligatory homework period, John asked if he could use the car on Saturday. The Old Man looked him up and down and then smiled.

"Got a hot date already? And where would you be off to?"

"I met this guy named Alan this week. He's in a lot of my classes. We had lunch with several girls and maybe we could all go to the movies, if I can use the car. Please, sir."

It could have been the truth but it wasn't. He wanted an evening with Alan alone

"Growing up fast," The Old Man said with a shake of his head.

"I signed up for wrestling tryouts today," John threw out in his favor.

"Wrestling? Good for you. Ok, you can have the car. But there will be no social fooling around in my vehicle, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," John replied.

"I keep thinking about how Frank ended his high school career. You're seventeen, John. No, eighteen next month, isn't it? How time flies. So keep it in your pants, son, and keep both feet on the floor."

"But sir, it's so hard to do it that way," John countered. The old joke Frank had used all the time made them both laugh. The Old Man wouldn't be laughing if he really knew what John had in mind. Not that Alan had given him any indication that the friendship was anything more than just that.

Alan said he knew of several parties and girls that would love to go out with them. John was sure he meant with himself but Alan seemed like the sharing type. But Alan didn't suggest they follow up on the knowledge. Instead he suggested they go see a movie.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe, the hottest film of the summer, was still playing at the Plaza Theatre. John had read Albee's play at some point and found it boorishly adult. The film didn't change his mind either but Alan seemed to like it. John didn't care, he was so distracted the film hardly mattered.

Alan said he enjoyed watching Liz and Richard act together. He imagined their real lives were much the same as what they did on the screen. They sat in the parking lot of the Hot Shoppes drive-in after the film and had a coke. John could tell Alan was still thinking about the film.

"Have you ever been in love?" Alan asked out of the blue.

"Not really, never had the chance. I watched my brothers each fall in love and go through hell when we had to move. It's not quite the experience I desire, "John replied.

"Yeah, but that was then. Now your father is stationed here and it seems like a long term thing. Haven't you ever met someone you liked more than a little?"

John wondered where Alan was going with this line of questioning but he was a friend, there could only be truth between them.

"I had some girl come on to me last year. We were in art class together, her name was Mary Jane, it didn't work out," John said.

"Close but no cigar?" Alan said. "Don't feel bad, I've never been to bed with a girl either."

"But I wanted to know what it was like," John said.

"It'll happen, if that's what you want. I figure the best way to achieve something is not to push too hard. Just let things flow around you and feel the movement until the time is right."

"What a poetic response to sexual frustration," John laughed. "But I've found another way to let off steam, I meditate."

"Oh yeah, like yoga?"

"Something like that, I'm a Buddhist."

Alan looked over at him, eyes widened. He seemed to be evaluating the new information and John suddenly felt elated. Alan cared, he just knew it.

"Buddhism. Yes, that seems to suit you just fine," Alan said.

"Are you sure you didn't already know that about me? I'll tell you Alan, sometimes I think you already know everything about me, it's freaky." John felt like he was babbling, but this excited him.

"Let's just say I like to observe other people, it helps me understand them better. I'm sorry, John. I don't mean to freak you out. I'm just trying to be your friend."

"You are, Alan, you are."

"Thanks. Funny as it sounds, I don't have many close friends. There's a good reason, but that story will keep for another day."

"I'm here for you, man," John said.

"I think Little John said that to Robin Hood right before he knocked him into the river," Alan laughed.

"Oh, and he's literate too, will wonders never cease," John said with a smile.

Saturday night moved slowly. The flow of cars and couples moved around them at the drive in. Nothing more was said on the subject of love, their conversation moving on to explore life and the attitudes of the times. Alan admitted that he had smoked pot before but quit because of his swimming. John said he had never tried it, meditation brought on a kind of high state anyway.

They spoke of the Vietnam War. Both agreed that college would keep them out of the military for the foreseeable future. Alan seemed about to say something else but he hesitated. John figured that since he was raised Army that Alan didn't want to offend. When after a while they ran out of small talk, both of them realized the evening was probably over.

John drove Alan home that night secure in the feeling that he had met someone profound, someone who would be important in his life. Nothing in this world lasts forever, the Buddhists taught, we are all just dust in the wind. But while he existed in this temporary body John wanted to share that life. Alan was unique and that made him an attractive friend. Friend, surely, he dared not hope that it could be more. He really didn't know what he wanted that to mean.

The first meeting of the wrestling team was at two-thirty the following Monday, right after seventh period. Alan and John scooted into the nearly empty locker room and hurriedly dressed in gym clothes. There were about twenty other guys waiting around in the gym, but only four of them were seniors.

They waited for the coach to arrive and John spent that time looking around. This would have been Brandon's world and he was thankful that his brother had taught him a little bit about it. Some of these guys were pretty big muscle boys and one big senior kept doing pushups on the floor.

"Look at him," one of the sophomore guys said in awe," that's Brent Larson, he went All-State last year, he's totally unstoppable."

"Yeah, what a brute. Glad we don't have to tangle with him," Alan said.

"Look, Alan, if we have to pair off I'm gonna try and put you down. No hard feelings, ok?"

"No way, go for it. I'm here to have fun, John. I don't want to be a wrestler. I have enough competition on the swim team."

The coach arrived and sure enough, he paired John with Alan. As they moved to the mats Alan couldn't stop smiling. John figured he didn't really know what was coming. They went down on the mat and John took the starting position over Alan who was down on his hands and knees. This was the first time they had come in full body contact.

"Are you ready?" Alan asked.

One of John's arms encircled Alan's waist, his body pressed down on Alan's back.

"This isn't a dance, you know," John said, gripping Alan's forearm. His face was close and the smell of Alan's hair filled his senses.

"Just be gentle," Alan chuckled as the coach's whistle blew.

Brandon always said that wrestling turns from offense to defense in a second. The other guy always forces your hand so you need to recognize what's coming. John was all over Alan who did little to defend himself. It was over in seconds as John managed to slam the boy down on his back pretty hard before the pin. Alan groaned, taking the defeat in stride and laughing it off.

The coach watched them both and offered some constructive criticism. It didn't take him long to decide that John at least had potential. Everyone was pouring sweat by the time the short practice was over and it was time to hit the showers.

It would be their first time naked in front of each other and John was nervous. They didn't talk much while undressing. Alan even turned his back as he stripped off the sweaty clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. John was just as modest. Towels in place they made for the cloud of steam, but the shower was full, they would have to wait.

Sitting on a bench outside the shower room, they talked about the practice.

"You know a lot more about wrestling than you think, don't be modest," Alan said." After experiencing the take downs you laid on me today, I'd say you have a good chance of making the team."

"Maybe," John said. "My brother did teach me a lot about self-defense but wrestling has all these rules to follow. But you did great out there too."

"Oh, balls. I was just a dummy you threw around. Besides, I still have the swim team and there would be scheduling conflicts if I keep on wrestling." Alan said.

"You can't quit swimming just to wrestle with me," John said. "You have too many years invested in that. It might even win you a scholarship to college."

"I realize that, John, but I just might have to baby-sit you in this wrestling venture."

"Now you're asking for a beating," John said. "You came here today just to make me look good, didn't you?"

"Ahh, you figured me out. Am I that transparent?"

"Actually? No, not at all," John said.

"All things in good time," Alan said, holding up a hand to stop the conversation. "Showers are open."

Alan threw his towel on a hook and stepped in under the water. John did the same and admired Alan's body from across the tiled room.

Since the average male penis is about six point two inches long when erect, John looked carefully between Alan's legs. There was nothing average about Alan’s size he determined, and John immediately felt a little better about himself. They checked each other out as boys always do, only Alan's eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, I know," John said, to forestall any comments, "pretty amazing and all that. I've heard all the jokes since I was a kid, Alan. Go on, you got something to say?"

"No. You feel defensive about it. Does it bother you that much?"

"I scared a girl with it once, I hate it."

"Ah, so that's what happened with Mary Jane. Give yourself a chance, John. I have you pegged as a guy who usually gets what he wants. I'm sorry, I won't mention it again."

They soaped up and scrubbed away the grime the floor mats had left on their bodies. Alan kept silent and John wondered what he was thinking.

"You have a smirk on your face," John said, "I thought we were going to put this subject aside?"

"I was just wondering how I would handle it if I was that big," Alan said.

"Same way I do, right or left hand, works both ways."

Alan looked at him in amazement and John burst out laughing.

"Lighten up, Alan. I promise that I won't use it to strangle you when we're on the mat."

"That's very considerate of you."

Both of them laughed while dressing. John realized there was a lot more Alan wanted to say on the subject but he admired the restraint his friend showed. Maybe there would come a time, if things developed between them.

"Look, Alan," John began, sitting on the bench to tie his sneakers.

"I understand, John, I won't say anything about it, I know it makes you uncomfortable."

"There you go again. I was just going to ask you to keep it between us. It's just that I've had to put up with so much crap," he said.

"And you shouldn't have to, at least not from your friends," Alan said.

Alan put a hand on John's shoulder and smiled.

"Maybe I can get the car this weekend," Alan said. "It seems we need to have a longer talk."

"I'd like that," John said.

"I trust you, John. You've never lied to me. I need a friend like you."

With that Alan left the locker room, the smile still on his face. John sat staring down at the shoe in his hand. There was so much about Alan he didn't know but the boy was leading up to something, he could just feel it.

They both had secrets to tell but that required a certain amount of trust be established first. John was beginning to feel like he could open up without losing a friend. Having Alan accept him was the most important thing in his life right now.

It wasn't going to be easy but it was becoming necessary. His feelings for Alan were developing so fast. But somehow he knew that Alan was already expecting this to happen. John didn't understand how and that was scary enough.



On to Chapter Four

Back to Chapter Two

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Singer Without a Song is © 2005 - 2006 by Chris James.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.


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