"Just because he's got a cock that huge doesn't mean he knows how to use it," Louie said. "I mean, could you handle something like that?"

"I would sure like to try," Alan said.

"I'll bet your friend is probably as sexually frustrated as you."

"Do you think there's even a chance for me?"

"How can I pass judgment with such little information? Besides, I am not going to second guess any relationship for you, that is your problem alone. You're young, just be his friend for now. He seems interested in being close to you. I firmly believe the best relationships develop by chance, maybe this one's yours?"

"Louie, you are a wise man," Alan said, kissing him on the cheek.

Alan thought about John as he shoveled out the kennels in back of the veterinary hospital and while doing his homework. The boy was attractive, smart and cared about their friendship. If there was ever to be a sexual part of their relationship Alan knew John would have to take the lead. The Buddhism made him a curiosity but Alan could tell this was the source of his strength. Maybe it would be smart to join in and learn a few things.

There was still another concern. What if Terry saw them together, would he say something? It wouldn't do for the school to think they were lovers. Maybe the concerns were unfounded, but he didn't want to have this new friendship undermined by any rumors that might get started. Terry would have to be watched and if anything was said he would just have to deal with it.

With just the two of them sitting at a table with three girls it made for a lively lunch period. But it attracted attention and it didn't take long for them to get noticed by the wrong people. Several of the senior football jocks made a move to push the boys away from the table. It was such a boring display of adolescent testosterone that the girls tried to laugh it off. Unfortunately, the jocks became pretty aggressive and rude so Alan felt he had to respond.

"Come on, guys don't act this way in front of the ladies."

"And what's that make you, a sissy? Little faggot like you doesn't belong with these fine girls," one of them taunted.

Alan glared at the big jerk and in an instant knew that the boy had been told something. Maybe Terry had already begun to spread things around. Without warning the jock pulled the chair out from under Alan.

It was John who rose to the occasion and stood up to the bigger boy. In return he got shoved and challenged to a more physical confrontation after school.

"I don't see where violence will solve this problem," John told the jock.

They laughed at him and said he had better show up and defend himself. John helped Alan up off the floor.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Alan said, "what assholes. Are you going to fight him?"

"Not really, I'll try and talk him out of it. But if I don't show up they probably won't leave us alone."

Alan didn't know how it would turn out. But he agreed they should try and talk their way out of this. John seemed pleased.

Waiting beside the bleachers after school for John to arrive, Alan was surprised when Brent Larson from the wrestling team wandered over.

"Hi Brent, you in on this brawl too?" he asked.

"Naw. Just here to see you guys get a fair go at it. Let's call it team spirit," he said. They shook hands and Alan decided right then that the guy was really cool.

The other side showed up, all three jocks and several others from the football team. Larry Franks was the idiot that John was to fight. He was at least a head taller and about thirty pounds heavier. Did John really know what he had gotten into?

Brent's presence seemed to have a sobering effect on the footballers so maybe they could talk it out instead. Still, Alan was afraid of what the larger boy might do to John. That's when he saw Terry Brown walk down beside the bleachers and join the football crowd. Alan glared at him but Terry just gave a little smile back.

When John arrived, they all walked down towards the woods at the edge of the playing fields. The cheerleading squad was out practicing and the whole affair had a crazy carnival atmosphere.

"Is this really necessary?" Alan asked. But the jocks didn't want to hear about it, this was to be a fight. Alan looked at Brent who just shrugged back.

"Terry is with that bunch," Alan said. "He's the one over there in the green jacket."

"The kid set this up, didn't he?" John asked. "Why does he hate you so much?"

"Because I know about him and what he's done. Maybe I should have been nicer to him," Alan said.

"And where would that leave me?" John asked. "Ok, let's do this. Just remember, when it's over that this is not the real me you're about to see."

Alan looked puzzled," And what does that mean?"

"You'll see," John said. "I hate this shit."

John and his opponent took off their shirts and pants, leaving both boys wearing only gym shorts. Franks looked huge and bulky compared to John who had more of a wrestler's build. Alan was afraid this might turn out to be a very short fight.

They had chosen a spot pretty deep in the woods away from the school and so it began with both boys circling each other and then John ended it a few seconds later.

Larry took a swing aimed at the head, but John ducked under the arm and kicked the legs out from under the boy. As Larry fell, John slammed his palm into the guy's chest and a great whoosh of air erupted from the poor kid's lungs.

Larry slowly got up and then charged. John crouched and then leapt, delivering a spinning kick to the side of the boy's head. Larry was out cold before hitting the ground.

Everyone was standing there with mouths open. It was the most amazing thing anyone had ever seen. Larry's guys both shrugged and went over to pick up their man. The fight was officially over.

Brent put his arm around John's shoulders as they walked back to the locker room.

"Great moves, kiddo. Your brother teach you that?" he asked.

"Yeah, he taught me," John said. His voice was flat and Alan realized that he wasn't proud of what he had just done.

"Yeah, never let the bastard get up off the ground," Brent said. "Thanks for the show. See you on the mats, teammates."

Alan followed John into the locker room. What was going on here? John hurriedly sat down on the nearest bench and put his head between his knees. His breathing was harsh and labored so Alan went to get him some water.

"You ok?" Alan asked, handing over the paper cup.

"No, I'm not, look at my hands," John said. He held out his arms, they were trembling horribly and the water spilled on the floor. "I hate fighting, I despise violence, it fucks with my karma."

"Karma?"

"I'm a Buddhist, remember," John said.

"I don't know much about Buddhism, John, but I sure liked the moves you made,"

Alan said and immediately realized it was the wrong thing to say.

John glared at him and Alan mumbled," I'm sorry, I always say the wrong thing."

The adrenaline rush had succeeded in causing John's body to tremble all over by now and he moaned as if he were in pain. Alan moved around behind and put his hands on John's neck, kneading those tense muscles. John resisted but finally his body went limp as he gave in to the feeling.

The locker room seemed as silent and dark as a church in the dim afternoon sunlight streaming through the high windows above the lockers. For Alan it was a thrill to be touching John this way and feeling his fingers move across all that smooth skin. Oh God, what am I doing, Alan thought? John cleared his throat.

"Ah hem, thanks, that helped me relax," John said," I think I'll go shower now."

Alan sat on the bench and realized that the fight had aroused him. John had certainly used his brother's fighting skills, the kick had been amazing. But his reaction didn't please John one bit. He would have to be more careful in the future or risk losing points with his new best friend.

John came out of the shower, a towel modestly wrapped around his waist. He began getting dressed but Alan was afraid to look at him.

"When I was younger my dad was stationed in Japan, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life," John said without warning. "There was a huge Buddhist temple right outside the military base and I would go over there after school and watch them perform their rituals. I joined a Buddhist group and laid the foundation for my serious interest in the philosophy.

"We came back Stateside and I began taking meditation studies. Finally, I realized that what I admired was the peacefulness of the Buddhists. It was as if I had discovered a great truth about myself and the more I learn the better I understand just why we all exist. My brothers may have taught me how to fight, Alan, but that doesn't mean I like it, it's just not me."

"I'm sorry, I don't have any brothers," Alan said.

John was standing with one foot on the bench while tying his tennis shoes. Alan watched his head turn and the wide smile that lit up his face.

"You have me," John said, "We're definitely brothers. I just don't want you to think I do this sort of thing a lot. Like in your past experience, I suppose it is sometimes necessary to make a demonstration of strength before the assholes will leave us alone."

"I never had a friend stand up for me like you did today, thank you."

It felt natural for them to hug each other and John didn't shy away at all as he hugged Alan back. They were both a little embarrassed after letting go.

"At least you didn't try to kiss me again," John said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alan asked.

"Every time we meet I learn a little more about you and how we fit together. Please, give me a little time to sort things out, Alan. A wise man once said," The good things which belong to prosperity are to be wished, but the good things that belong to adversity are to be admired.

"I believe that applies aptly to us," John said. Then he turned on his heel and walked through the doors into the outside hallway. Alan stood speechless, what had just happened between them?

"The quote is from Sir Francis Bacon, I believe," Louie said that afternoon.

"Wow, that's pretty intense for a teenager. So he's a Buddhist. You may have stumbled onto something here. Give him a chance to know and love you as I do, but don't push too hard."

Alan stopped at the library on the way home and checked out three books on Buddhism. It was complicated stuff and he fell asleep with swirling images of the Buddha floating about in his dreams, but it was a peaceful sleep.

The lunchroom was its normal animated self the following day, except John was absent. There had been a quiz during English but Alan hadn't seen him afterwards. One of the girls said she had seen him heading up towards the principal's office and Alan's hopes fell.

What had happened? John was all that mattered to him at the moment. Alan made his way to the glass door of the office and peered inside. Mrs. Lilly was on the phone so he went inside and leaned on the counter, skimming the faculty mailboxes until she was done.

"Hello, Alan. Glad you dropped by. Mr. Rouse wants to see you and I was about to send someone to find you in the lunchroom." Mrs. Lily smiled at him. Everyone knew that she ran the school, including her boss, the principal. Fortunately Alan had an inside track. Her son had been on the Wheatley swim team.

"It's about yesterday afternoon, isn't it?" Alan asked.

"I'm not supposed to talk about that," she said, "but John Bateman was suspended this morning. The poor boy he beat up is still at home sick."

"He better be, "Alan hissed," what a coward."

"Well, you tell Mr. Rouse what happened, ok? Tell him the truth now. He'll know if you lie."

"Yes ma'am," Alan replied.

Rouse had always been a fair man. Several generations of Montgomery students would easily testify to that fact. This wasn't Alan's first venture into the administrative lair but he was more than a little nervous under the circumstances. Rouse finally came through the door and ushered him into the executive cubby, closing the door behind them.

"Please, have a seat, won't you," he commanded.

Rouse sat behind his desk and glanced at a file laying there, Alan knew it was his school record without even asking.

"I'm sure you know why you're here, can we talk about it or do you want a lawyer too?" Rouse asked.

"Lawyer? I don't need a lawyer, do I? If this is about the fight, I witnessed the whole thing, it was completely fair."

"There are no fair fights on school property," Rouse said.

"But it wasn't on school property, we were at least a hundred yards back in the woods, and it was after the final bell," Alan said.

"Hmm, that's just a technicality, the boy was badly hurt."

"But he swung first, John was only defending himself. There were witnesses."

"I'm sure there were. What were they fighting about?" Rouse asked.

"Didn't John tell you?"

"No, you're the only one honest enough to talk to me."

"It was a jock thing, the football guys insulted the girls who were sitting at our table in the lunchroom, called them some pretty bad names. They called John out after school to fight. I'm sorry that Larry got hurt but he started the whole thing. Look, Mr. Rouse, John is not the bad guy here, what he did was, well, chivalrous. He was just defending their honor."

"Well Mr. Franks is talking about suing the school," Rouse said, "I had to take action. John seemed to be at fault."

"It made him physically ill to have to fight, Mr. Rouse. See he's a Buddhist, he doesn't believe in violence. He was forced to take this action against his will. I'll stand up for him, Mr. Rouse, he didn't start the fight."

Rouse stared at Alan for a long time. Then he picked up the phone and consulted a number written on his desk pad.

"Hello, Mr. Franks? This is Ben Rouse at the high school. I'm calling because some new evidence has come to light regarding the fight your son started yesterday. Yes sir, it seems he did start it by assaulting another student. Yes, there were several witnesses. No sir, no, you won't have to do that. Your son is hereby suspended for three weeks pending an investigation by the school board. If it is proven that he attacked a classmate then he'll be expelled, those are the rules. Yes sir, well I'm sorry it happened too but it's out of my hands now. Yes Mr. Franks, we'll be in touch, thank you."

He placed the phone back in its receiver and smiled at Alan.

"John is a very lucky boy, Alan. Mr. Franks won't press charges anymore. To tell the truth, I fought a lot in school myself, but don't you dare quote me on that. You seem to care about John and if you're his friend you'll convince him that fighting isn't the way we solve problems here at Montgomery. His suspension is revoked and you tell him my door is always open if he feels the need to be chivalrous again, ok?"

"Thank you sir," Alan said, "you won't regret this."

He got up to leave but Rouse called to him as he reached the door.

"And Alan, tell John he's very lucky to have a friend like you who speaks so eloquently in his defense."

"I will, thank you sir."

Alan closed the door behind him and leaned on the frame. Yes, they'd won even though John wouldn't think so. But Alan had read about the ancient Buddhist monks who had developed hand to hand combat for protection, it seemed that self defense was allowed under Buddhist teaching. That would be a discussion for another day, now he had to find John and tell him the good news.

John lived over in the Sandy Hills subdivision which was about five miles from Alan's house. He grabbed his bike right after the bus dropped him off at home and pedaled his brains out to get there. Alan skidded into the Bateman driveway after a fifteen minute sprint and leaned the bike against a tree in the yard.

The doorbell sounded somewhere deep in the house and the door was finally opened by a stern looking man…it had to be John's father.

"Sergeant Bateman? Hello, sir, my name is Alan Sommers. Can I please speak with John?"

"Hello, Alan. I'm glad we finally have a chance to meet. We were sort of expecting you anyway. Ben Rouse called me and said that you'd probably be coming over. He also said you're responsible for defending John and getting him off suspension. I'm glad there is at least one sensible boy in that whole school."

"Uh, thank you sir," Alan said with a smile.

"Won't you come in? John is up in his room so why don't you go on up, second door on the right."

Alan climbed the stairs and counted doors. John's door would have stood out anyway. There was a strange symbol on it that he recognized as the Wheel of Life. He knocked gently. No answer, was John asleep? He opened the door quietly.

John was sitting on a low wooden table made of unfinished pine in the corner of his room. He was in the lotus position, eyes closed, legs folded into one another and his hands resting calmly on his knees. The headphones he was wearing were connected to the stereo so couldn't have heard the knock. Alan shut the door behind him and stood watching.

John seemed to sense a presence because his eyes flickered open. The serenity on his face made him look so beautiful. Slowly John reached up and took off the phones, placing them on the desk. The shadow of a smile came to his face but words seemed to fail them both at the moment.

Alan walked slowly across the room and then noticed the tears rolling down John's cheeks. Why was he crying?

"I guess we are past that first date now," John whispered. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." His hands went around Alan's neck and pulled him down. The kiss lasted only for a moment but it said everything that was in John's mind.

"I'm still in shock," Alan said after they parted, "I had no idea you could get in this kind of trouble."

"I was afraid it might happen, my brothers were suspended lots of times."

"Tell me," Alan asked," where did you learn about Francis Bacon, the "good things" quote you threw at me yesterday?"

"The good things that belong to prosperity are to be wished? I read that once. It seemed very Buddhist to me, so very succinct. You wish for a decent life but it's the adversity of living that gives it meaning. We are all one with the universe, accept it or not, it is written in the creation of all things."

"So that's why my being gay doesn't phase you?"

"Yes, we all have a path to walk. It doesn't mean we can't travel together, my friend. You're being gay doesn't scare me, it's not who you are. I admire the Alan who stood up for me in the face of my adversity, that's the mark of true friendship."

"I'm attracted to you, John, emotionally and physically. You know I want you to feel the same way about me," Alan said.

"I accept that as a truth you bring into our relationship. It doesn't mean I'm able to accept it for myself but I don't reject you for it. What we have is beautiful. Why don't we let it grow and see where it takes us, ok? Can I buy you breakfast tomorrow morning?" John asked.

"If I get to return the favor on Thursday," Alan replied.

The ritual breakfast before school started the following morning and quickly became their favorite time of the day. Louie was proud of the way Alan approached the relationship and at the same time he worried. Was Alan pinning too many hopes on something that might never develop?

Alan felt the friendship with John had passed through the initiation phase. As if to prove the point, they scored a big A on the first Biology project together and Alan could read the joy in John's eyes. Each of them had something valuable to bring to the table, but nothing was more important than the mutual respect they held.

The past had made Alan timid about pushing his gay world into John's lap too quickly but he knew the boy was curious. Introducing him to Louie would be a lot of fun but first Alan wanted a look at John's spiritual world.

The temple John had finally discovered after they moved to town was built by a community of Buddhists who followed the Tibetan form of the religion. Years ago he had learned that Buddhism attracted many kinds of people from many different nationalities. He was sure Alan would find the place at least interesting. Understanding would come later.

The temple itself sat on several hundred acres of land beside the Potomac River. A holy place of refuge, John called it, for those who sought the inspiration of the Buddha. John said that although he had begun his research into Japanese Zen Buddhism he had chosen this form to study because of the Dalai Lama's teachings. Alan had read about the Tibetan spiritual leader and the trials he and his countrymen endured in the name of religious and social freedom. He thought John had made a wise choice.

The monks were going to show a film made about the Tibetan holy man and listen to his words of inspiration on Saturday, all were welcome. So Alan went with an open mind, just as John went for spiritual guidance.

John said the group had begun to focus their meditations on the war in an attempt to stop what he called the "slaughter of innocence." To this Buddhist way of thinking, the government was destroying the balance of the universe as they killed innocent people along with soldiers on both sides of the conflict.

Alan felt good about that, their goals seemed to be the same. John had doubts about just how the SDS was planning to achieve their objective. Even thought they were getting some bad press these days, Alan was still determined to join up with them and become a major player if he could.

John drove to the temple in his new VW Beetle. His father had helped pay the difference when the quarterly report card had been so good. It still had that new car smell and John thought of it as his little blue baby.

They were introduced to several monks who had traveled down from upper New York State to show the film. The monks looked intriguing, all swathed in orange robes with their heads shaved. Two of them looked to be in their early twenties but the third was extremely quiet and looked many years older. At one point Alan thought the man seemed to be watching him discretely.

They all stood outside in the cool autumn air, basking in the morning sunlight and listened to the monks talk about their monastery up in the mountains. John took a pamphlet they had printed and promised to stay in touch. Then it was time for the film.

"They look so dedicated," Alan said as they walked inside for the film.

"To be that dedicated, I almost envy them," John said. "But envy is a very un-Buddhist like concept, don't you think?"

"You keep asking me what I think, that's important to you isn't it?"

"I suppose I'm seeking validation, yes. But I do care what you think, of course I do. You analyze things so well," he said. "What would you say if I said I wanted to go visit their monastery and spend some time in meditation?"

"What about school?" I asked.

"It's really all about us though, isn't it?" John said. "You don't want us to be separated. Would you like to come with me?"

"I'm not sure they would approve of me, would they?" Alan asked.

"Why not? What have you done?"

"It's not what I've done, it's what I think about doing."

"I admire you," John said. "It must be difficult to control sometimes, I'm sorry."

"I'm not pushing on you," Alan said, "that would be disrespectful."

"Yeah," John laughed, "I know, it's your sneakiest tactic."

The monks had gathered at the front of the room. The smell of incense burning in front of the small statue of the Buddha filled the room. As quiet descended over the group of thirty or so people, Alan heard a bell ring several times and a low throaty chant began to fill the room.

"Om Mani Padme Ohm," began the mantra chanted by all. The sound grew and reverberated off the walls. He remembered John saying this phrase when they first sat down to discuss Buddhism. It was the most basic of phrases in the litany of Buddhist thought, a call for the mind to focus in meditation.

John was sitting still and Alan heard him pick up the chant so he joined in. John looked over and smiled, they were truly in this together. His body began to feel the sound, the repetitive nature allowing Alan's mind to wander and it immediately went to John.

Was he really planning to go to the monastery in New York? Would the monks accept someone with less than novice understanding of the Buddha and his teachings? He was caught up in the wonderful thought of being with John in a strange place deep in the mountains. But would we, could we? It was selfish. He was so obsessed about sleeping with John. What a selfish little brat he'd become. John had become a brother and friend, but all he worried about is will the boy ever become a lover.

The buzzing chant was interrupted by the ringing of bells once again and the rhythmic sound ceased. One of the monks began a prayer in what must have been the Tibetan language. The strange sound of his voice defied understanding. John sat with his eyes closed. He was off in that peaceful place, the one Alan had yet to grasp.

What good is it that he could read the thoughts and emotions of others? Alan sighed inside. He couldn't understand his own needs most of the time. He felt someone's eyes staring at him and looked up to see the elder monk smiling at him. Who was this guy?

The young monk's voice finally stopped and another took its place. It was the quiet elder monk, and he spoke in English this time.

"Our welcome to those who have joined us here today to hear the words of the Buddha and know his message of peace through the teachings of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. My name is Namkhai. We welcome some new faces and wish you to know all are encouraged to walk the path towards enlightenment. The mantra we just repeated speaks to the jewel of consciousness, the center of our existence, the mind. The being of our lives is focused in both the heart and mind, and as we seek to unite the two in harmony, all things are possible.

"Surely this is a simple thought in a complicated world, yet to us it is a promise of enormous possibility for change. Some of us speak of Tao, The Way of the Buddha, this is spoken in many languages throughout the world. His Holiness became the leader of a nation and a people through this Divine Guidance. You will see in the film that there is great upheaval in the world today.

"We seek to change thoughts and patterns of behavior that contribute to the disruption of mankind's spiritual journey, and our path towards the true spiritual bliss. Please view the film and stay for the discussion afterwards, thank you."

So much of what the monk said made sense, now Alan looked forward to the film. John had risen and brought them each a cup of tea. The lights were dimmed and Alan felt John's leg press against his, then the flickering screen in front came to life.

It began with images of a quiet people, high in the mountains of Tibet. The scenery was breathtaking, captivating and yet the black and white film on the screen seemed very old. In English, the narrator's voice described the country of Tibet as it was before the Chinese invasion.

After a few minutes there was a change. Now they were in a mountainous region of India, going to a place where the Tibetan's had set up their leadership in exile. Long rows of monks led the camera's lens into a huge temple and to the awesome figure of a sitting Buddha towering two stories high. Here beside the statue sat the spiritual leader of his people, His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

The distinguished looking man in monk's robes spoke quietly into a microphone, a piece of gadgetry that looked out of place in this centuries old temple. The Dalai Lama proved to be a modern man, well spoken and quite educated. Alan was impressed by his intense and sincere manner.

The Dalai Lama spoke of the imperative of educating his people to deal with the modern world and the political realities around them. Alan knew from his reading that the Chinese had taken away everything but the love these people had for their beliefs and their way of life. The Dalai Lama, who had fled to Nepal, was the head of a nation that had been cast out from their own land by invading hordes armed with modern technology. The results of that invasion were devastating both for the monks and their spiritual charges, many died simply for defending their way of life.

His Holiness' words were overlaid by scenes of beauty, which slowly gave way to the realities of war. The pictures of destruction were grim and Alan felt John's fingers grasp at his leg. John suffered so easily, he thought, for me and for all people.

The monks on the screen began to chant a long and complicated mantra and Alan felt a passionate response in the group around him. The horrors on the screen dissolved and the camera focused on the face of the benevolent Buddha.

Alan found himself mesmerized by the features on that face and through a wall of sound made by the chanting he heard another voice, the whispering of an ocean. Clearly there were waves lapping on a shoreline, a soft, soothing rhythm blended in with the low monotone of the chant. He looked around to see if anyone else might also be aware of this and found the eyes of the older monk upon him once again. Was the man staring at him or was it John? Alan looked into those eyes but the way was blocked, he could draw no thoughts from the monk.

The sound became softer and softer as the film ended. No one moved. Everyone's thoughts had turned inwards to absorb what they had all just seen. The vivid images had been powerful and all-consuming. A monk in orange robes carrying a small child wounded in the fighting. A woman lying dead on the ground as her naked baby ran in ever decreasing circles around her until he sat in the dust and cried. Powerful heady stuff, Alan had never seen anything worse.

When the lights came up John quickly got to his feet and almost ran out the door. Alan saw the monks watch John leave and he quickly rose to his feet and followed.

The poor boy was leaning with one hand on the wall, the remains of his breakfast in the flowerbed at his feet. Alan placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to comfort him but he felt constrained. John wiped his eyes.

"I'm sorry, guess I'm just a little sensitive," he said.

"Don't apologize, you're the flower of compassion," Alan replied, "I know how violence affects you, remember?"

Then Alan wrapped his arms around John, closed his eyes and wished away the pain. The world had been in perfect tune for them that morning. And as they stood holding each other, they felt another pair of arms encircle them both, and then another and another. When Alan opened his eyes he saw only a great swirl of orange cloth surrounding them.

The monks had seen John's despair and come to find the reason. Now they had joined in a show of love and understanding. The sudden thrill and joy they created in that huddle transpired all languages and cultures. It was a valuable lesson, John's world and theirs was not so very far apart.

They took a long walk after that, into the gardens and out across the fields of knee high winter grass. Both were charged with the energy of what had transpired. They reached the cliffs overlooking the river and sat in the grass.

Alan smiled when John leaned against him and placed an arm around his waist. This place had forged something new and wonderful between them. He lay back in John's arms with his ear pressed against the boy's chest. The heart beat within seemed strong and purposeful. Oh God, Alan thought, this was the first time John had allowed them to show real affection. He was going to enjoy remembering this moment forever and then he heard voices.

The first young monk appeared followed closely by the other two.

"Ah, there you are," he said, "I hope I am not intruding?"

"Oh no, please come and sit with us, the sun is warm here," John said.

The elder monk smiled at Alan, his eyes sparkling with good will. Alan thanked him for coming all this way to talk with them. Their discussion turned from the mild weather and the beauty of this place to the war demonstrations that had begun cropping up across the country.

Alan felt extremely peaceful in the presence of these men. The elder monk smiled at him and Alan actually felt the man's goodwill enter his mind. It was like a mild shock to realize this man could look into his mind and yet it seemed so right. The monk made no outward sign of this ability and soon Alan began to feel like he had imagined the whole thing.

They managed to slip away in the early afternoon and John began to talk the minute they started rolling down the driveway.

"I'm sorry, Alan. It was a beautiful moment and then, poof, I know you felt cheated."

"Yes and no. It felt wonderful in your arms and I was sorry that ended. But I really liked talking to those monks. You would think that living in a monastery they might be out of touch with the world out here."

"Not these guys. The Dalai Lama wants them all to be educated about everything. Only a foolish man is unaware of the path he is walking. I think that the Buddhist philosophy forces us to keep our eyes open. The actions of every living thing impact our lives. It is the natural order of the universe we seek to understand."

"It was a great experience," Alan said.

"You know how much I care for you," John said. "If you want to know the truth, I didn't think I would be any good at being affectionate like that. I know you have great expectations about me and…"

"No, John. You just had to open your mind and everything else came from deep inside. When you feel like it again I'll be waiting."

"I bow to the wisdom of the master. Let's go do lunch," John said.



On to Chapter Eight

Back to Chapter Six

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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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