Singer Without a Song by Chris James Chapter Nine On to Chapter Ten Back to Chapter Eight Chapter Index Chris James Home Page Drama Sexual Situations Rated Mature 18+ The Tarheel Writer - On the Web since 24 February 2003. Celebrating 21 Years on the Internet! Tarheel Home Page |
The driver down shifted to make the turn and Alan came awake as the whine of the engine filled the cabin of the bus. Where were they now? He looked down at John's head resting in his lap. The boy was peacefully asleep and had been for hours. He had felt nothing but anxiety since they left the city and could only drift off now and then. What were they about to do?
Out through the frosty glaze on the window Alan could see a lush forest deep in the throes of a late winter storm. The weatherman in Albany had predicted only four inches of snow for this afternoon but that was back in civilization, up here it had to be twice as deep. This monastery must be in one of the remotest places in the state, why had he let John talk him into this?
Looking down at the sleeping form, Alan got his answer. He would have faced the deepest freeze in the Arctic just to be with John. But maybe that was a bad choice of words right at the moment, it sure was cold out there. John mumbled in his sleep and Alan held him closer, they were the only passengers on the bus now, the smart people had gotten off in the last town.
The past four months had been the most agreeable of his life. John had become so close to him it was as if they wore the same skin. They had not done anything but sleep when they were in the same bed and Alan was at first surprised to find that even this seemed natural.
His boyfriend had gone from the straight world to the gay in no time at all, and with such ease. Alan knew he should be glad they had come this far in such a short time. The lack of sex did nothing to change his feelings. John was his boyfriend and they were that much in love.
John had really opened up too, exposing Alan to the life he had led as an Army brat and the constant level of poverty that plagued the average military family. His photo album showed a happy family in dismal surroundings, which explained a lot to Alan about the way John felt about "things".
He was not at all covetous of his possessions, in fact he had very few. At first Alan thought this was a Buddhist trait manifesting itself but then he began to realize how spoiled he was. The Bateman's television was still a black and white set. It said a lot about the way this family pulled together to survive and Alan could only feel a tinge of jealously at the way they managed it so carefully.
The boys had been careful not to expose to anyone how deeply they felt about each other. At Louie's they touched and caressed but it was always hard to leave that sanctuary and become just two buddies everywhere else. The Bateman family treated Alan like a member and he cherished that position.
He once used his allowance to buy them all fried chicken for dinner. Mrs. Bateman didn't bat an eyelash although her recipe for chicken was much better. She always made him feel welcome in their home.
The Sergeant was another matter. Mr. Bateman was Alan's deepest worry. If he ever found out about the relationship there would be hell to pay. Fortunately he worked a lot of time at the Pentagon, which kept him out of the house.
From Alan's observations, the Sergeant was a gruff man. He was often short with his wife and in the past Alan knew he had sometimes been violent with his children. Fortunately, John was the youngest and he said the 'old man' was getting soft in his old age.
So it was with trepidation that Alan shopped for John's Christmas present. He didn't want to spend too much and raise suspicions. Did Buddhists give presents anyway?
The Bateman's had a modest Christmas tree decorated with care. The brothers appeared the day before the holiday and Alan was introduced to Frank and Brandon. Frank told them about life on the West coast and he sported a dark tan. His wife and kids were a little overwhelmed by the Sergeant but the Old Man even got down on the floor to play with his grandchildren.
Brandon talked with them about wrestling and seemed proud that his little brother was following in his footsteps. Alan liked Brandon even though he was still a total jock. He saw a lot of John's character in his brothers.
John could believe what he wanted but the others were Christian all the way. Alan had slid his small packages under the tree on Christmas Eve, one for John and a gift for the family. That's when he saw a package with his name on it. So John had given in and bought him something after all.
It turned out to be a book of mantras and an incense holder, how like John to be so practical. John tore the wrapping off his present and paused as he pulled forth the gold dog tags Alan had purchased. John's fingers caressed the embossed surface and traced out the letters of his name. Alan couldn't tell if he was touched or if he though the gift too extravagant. John was so damn hard to read.
So now they were finally going to the monastery for fourteen days of meditation, prayer and whatever else Buddhists do. Alan still recalled the day when meditation allowed him to see the other side. That's what he had come to think of the place he had envisioned where Tommy existed, the other reality of his universe.
Although John had denied hypnotizing him in any way, and said Alan found the place all by himself, he didn't believe that. Maybe these monks could help him locate that corner of existence. The thought was tantalizing.
"About another ten minutes and we'll be there," the driver said, interrupting this train of thought. Alan saw him looking in the rear view mirror, "Better wake your buddy up."
He gave John a gentle shake and the boy smiled in his sleep. The glass window was frigid so Alan put his hand on it for about a minute until he felt the bite in his fingers. Then he placed the hand on John's cheek and the boy's eyes sprang open.
"Cold," John mumbled. He sat up and squinted through the glass," where are we?"
"The driver says about five minutes and we'll be there, we better gather our stuff," Alan suggested. John nodded and yawned, it had been a long trip.
The packs were well strapped to their frames with sleeping bags lashed down on top. Alan pulled his gloves out of a side pocket. John was fumbling for his own pair when his shirt fell open and the golden dog tags flopped out.
Smiling, he grasped them, pushing them back under his T-shirt against his skin and glancing up at Alan. His eyes said it all and Alan wanted to kiss him right then for the love they shared, but he couldn't as the bus slowed down to let them off.
"Ok boys, here we are," the driver said. "You sure they're expecting you? Don't want to leave you down here at the gate alone. You might freeze if it's not open. Give it a try before I leave you, ok?"
Alan thanked the driver for his consideration. John zipped up his parka then hefted his pack and went to see if it was open. The wooden gates were at least twelve feet high and massive but there was a small door in one of them that opened as John gave it a shove, they were in.
"Thank you, sir," Alan said to the driver," have a safe trip home."
He zipped up and clomped down the steps in his snow boots. The doors squealed shut behind him and the bus drove slowly away. Standing before the gates, Alan listened to the silence of the falling snow before stepping through the door and into another world.
John was waiting inside before a small shrine placed just beside the gates. Alan saw a strange little deity sitting on the tiny altar inside.
"These Buddhists are followers of the Tantric Vajrayana," John said. "Originally the form migrated to Tibet from India many centuries ago and brought along some of the mysticism and magic you find so fascinating. I can't see a single building from here, can you?"
"No, maybe we just better follow the road. It'll be dark in about two hours and we don't want to be stuck out here," Alan said.
They marched resolutely through the light snowfall. It had to be at least eight inches deep already. They had hiked for at least fifteen minutes without seeing a thing except deeper woods when they both heard a bell ring in the distance and picked up the pace. Within ten minutes they came to the wall and Alan looked for an opening facing the road but there was none. John walked a few hundred feet towards the east and found it.
It was a small wooden door, set at the base of the wall and only about three feet square. A monk's door, designed to keep out evil influences and probably the local tax collector. There was a rope hanging down the wall here and when John pulled on it a small bell rang somewhere inside.
They were stamping their feet to keep warm when the little door opened and a head popped out. It was the older monk they had met in Maryland.
"Ahh, you are here, how wonderful. Welcome, welcome, please come in."
They shoved the packs through and scrambled after them into a tiny courtyard which stood before the main building.
"Welcome," the monk repeated. "Remember me? My name is Namkhai and you are Alan and John, yes? We have been expecting you. But it is very cold for traveling. Please, you must place your possessions in your sleeping quarters and come have hot tea. I will show you the way."
They ascended some beautifully crafted wooden stairs and found themselves on a porch that seemed to encircle the closest building. Namkhai led them around the porch and they came to yet another set of stairs. Up they climbed, their packs getting real heavy. This building had many doors along the side and he led them to a door near the end.
"This is your sleeping room," Namkhai said, "you will not mind sharing a sleeping pallet? It becomes a blessing when the cold winds blow," he chuckled. "It is not so cold as Tibet and I am thankful, we would have no monks if it was too cold." He laughed and they supposed this to be a joke so they chuckled too, the man seemed pleased.
John and Alan lay their packs down on the hard surface of the wooden rack covered with a simple straw mattress. This would be their bed for the next two weeks. Alan noticed the monk wore fleece lined slippers. But his robe didn't cover all of him although it looked heavy and warm. Wasn't he cold? Before they left the room he noticed a small electric heater in the corner. It looked no bigger than a toaster. Was that supposed to keep them warm?
They climbed more stairs up and down before entering a long brick building.
"You have come in time for supper," their guide said.
Alan was happy to hear that, he was starved. They had brought along some food to supplement the diet the monastery would feed them, but those rations might be needed later on.
Namkhai led them into the dining room and filled them both a cup of tea from the waiting pot. It was hot and wet, their only two requirements at the moment. Alan gulped it down and then asked for more.
"We will have supper in just a few minutes so please, you stay here and I will inform the Rinpoche you have arrived, he will be delighted, " Namkhai told them, then he left.
"So what do you think so far," John asked.
"Glad we bought the thirty-below sleeping bags. Did you see that dinky heater in our room?"
"We'll have to keep each other warm," John said.
"I like the sound of that. Do we have to wear robes? Man, my gonads will freeze."
"You're free to go as deeply into the experience as you desire, Alan. Don't follow me because you think you have to, you won't make me angry. I want you to have a learning experience. Will you be ok?"
"Our paths have become one road, who am I to place stones in our way," Alan said.
"Have you been reading that book I gave you?" John asked.
"Yeah, it seems like the proper analogy for our situation."
The knowledge of Buddhist teachings and the experience they were about to have would bond them together. Alan really believed that, it would be hard but worth it. That is if they didn't freeze to death in the process.
"Thank you for being here with me," John said.
Monks began to gather in the room for their supper and Alan noticed that there were many different types. The Tibetans stood out for their coarse robes and fur trimmed jackets. The American's robes were of softer cloth and they wore more traditional winter gear.
Alan noticed they weren't the only boys in street clothes either, there were four others. So these monks did take in outsiders, presumably to study and seek the Way. Alan had a momentary flash, what if John wanted to stay on, what if he didn't want to leave in two weeks? He was eighteen but his parents wouldn't allow it…would they?
They sat at long tables and were given huge bowls of lentil soup with chunks of fresh dark bread. Alan ate ravenously while John ate slowly, studying the others around him. The Tibetans were gathered at one table around a much older monk and Alan assumed this was the abbot, their Rinpoche. After a time had passed Namkhai came down the tables towards them.
"The Rinpoche begs you will join him for tea later, after the meal," Namkhai said.
"We would be grateful for his wisdom," John said.
The monk smiled, John always seemed to say just the right things.
"I will come for you," Namkhai said.
They seemed to be objects of some curiosity after that encounter and while Alan remained silent, John spoke to several others. There was another boy at the table about their age, maybe a little older. He had a shaved head and wore a knit cap for warmth. Alan figured he was a novice monk, an American who'd come to join the monastery for whatever reasons.
The boy had a startlingly beautiful face, almost angelic in appearance and Alan found him attractive despite the dirty gray robe he wore. They were sitting across the table from one another and Alan offered him bread as the tray came around. He smiled at Alan's gesture
"You're quiet," the boy said to Alan between mouthfuls.
"I'm a stranger to this place, it seemed better to listen," Alan replied.
"My name is Joshua," the boy said, "at least for now, until they decide what to do with me."
"I'm Alan, until they decide what, to let you stay here?"
"Yeah, I have no other place to go, so this might be the place, if they let me."
"What would stop you?" Alan asked.
Joshua looked upset at the question and Alan almost apologized for intruding when the boy answered," I'm a junkie." He then got up and walked towards the doorway to the porch outside.
Alan gave John a squeeze under the table and whispered in his ear," I got to see a man about something." John nodded back and watched him leave as he went after Joshua.
The boy was standing out in the cold, watching the snow fall in the darkening sky. Alan zipped up his parka and joined him.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have intruded on your private affairs," Alan said.
"You and your buddy must have clout, I've been here four months and they won't let me even talk to the Rinpoche yet."
"Do you know why?" Alan asked.
"Because I'm on the edge," he said, "do you have a cigarette?"
"Sorry, I don't smoke."
"Well that's a drug too, they forbid it here anyway." He sniffed the cold air and spat over the rail.
"How did you find this place?" Alan asked.
"They found me, no, they saved me," he said. Alan could see in the boy's eyes that he wanted to talk, to trust someone. He wanted to hear what Joshua had to say and so the boy began to talk. His story, when it came tumbling out, was harsh and so full of pain.
"I took a dose from some friends down towards Harlem, you know, New York City? Yeah well it was pretty crappy stuff and it messed me up pretty bad. I fell down in this alley and almost got run over by a car but they missed me, didn't even see me laying there in the trash. These two monks got out and went into a place across the street. I crawled into their back seat, it was so warm and I was cold, you see.
"My body was so thin from not eating I was almost freezing to death one minute and sweating from the dope the next. There was like this laundry back there so I tunneled under it and woke up when the car started moving again. I was in and out, you know, nodding off. I thought we'd just gone a few blocks and when I got out I was standing in the middle of this forest. A monk found me looking up at the monastery wall and here I am. I don't think they trust me yet."
"Is that surprising? Look how they discovered you. I read there have been assaults on Buddhist monks by guys looking for drug money," Alan said.
"I wouldn't hurt nobody. These folks ain't got nothing anyway, no money, no possessions," Joshua said. "I love them, man. They've been like family to me."
"Is that why you want to stay? These are real people, they have to be asking themselves if you're a threat to their way of life, you know," Alan said.
Joshua looked at him long and hard, it was a tough question for him no doubt. But Alan just had to know more.
"What made you become a junkie?" Alan asked.
"You never done drugs have you?" Joshua snorted.
"I smoke pot occasionally, but I 'm sure that's not the same thing, is it?"
"No, it's not. You do smack or heroin and then it does you back. I got the habit from one of my so-called friends. We used to go playing with it, just me and a couple of other boys back when nobody knew any better. Didn't think it was nothing special until I got hooked."
"How did you afford the habit, I'm sure your family wasn't giving you money?"
"Naw, my brother Paul is the only family I got. But he caught me stealing to buy the stuff and kicked me out of the house when I was fourteen. I've been on the street for three years, it sucks."
"Were you dealing?"
"No, well, yeah a bit, but just to get my stash, you know? I ain't proud of it but I even hustled down Times Square, it was easy money. The weirdo fags liked to pick me up cause I was young and they was into that shit."
"You mean perverts?"
"Yeah, these guys were just strange, but fags, homos, you know."
"I don't think gay men are into little boys, Joshua. But since we're being so honest you should know that I'm gay," Alan said.
Joshua took a step back." Oh, sorry. I didn't see that one coming, did I? Sorry if I offended you," he said. Alan even thought he meant it.
"No matter. So where's your family, no relatives to take you in?" Alan asked.
"Naw, I only had my brother and a buddy Glenn. He's gone now."
"Did he run away or something?"
"No man, he was a druggie too. He died," Joshua said.
"I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose a close friend."
"Do you? Well, I killed him," Joshua blurted out. "I killed him sure as I put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger."
"Tell me if you want to, it helps to talk," Alan said.
"I don't know, it was like...we was doin hits, you know, chippin shots in our arms like for two days and we run out of bags. I told him I knew this dude that was holdin some shit so we went and robbed a Chinaman's grocery store to buy the stuff. I took the bags back to his place and we started to cook it up. So he's got this good syringe…and I got shit, just a crappy homemade thing with an eyedropper and a used needle stuck in it. So we cook it nice and he fills up his needle but my stupid rig gets air in it all the time so I had to fill it all over again. Glenn starts to shoot his up and I'm fumblin with my shit, he smiles over at me and then it all started to go crazy."
Joshua was breathing hard now, swallowing as if he was in a panic, his words tumbling out of his mouth a mile a minute. Alan knew he was reliving the emotions of the event and reached out a hand to steady the boy. Joshua threw his arms up in the air and beat them down on the wooden railing causing the whole deck to shake... he went on, his voice full of terror.
"Shit man, he was bleeding from his nose and mouth, he was chokin and gaspin for air, oh shit…I started screaming when blood started comin out his eyes and I yelled for help."
Joshua was gasping for air now, more upset than before, " He was dyin right there in front of me, man. I was screamin 'an nobody came. Glenn just lay there dead."
Joshua broke down, tears pouring down his cheeks, " Oh God, you know what was worse, what made me feel like a fuckin whore? I kept lookin at my eyedropper and thinkin, maybe this shit is good, maybe only his needle had the battery acid in it, maybe this shit won't kill me, maybe I can cop a buzz and I almost stuck it in my arm. It made me nuts, I have to be fuckin crazy and Glenn…oh fuck..."
Joshua was sobbing so hard he could hardly breath. Alan wrapped his arms around the boy who was trembling so hard it shook them both. He felt guilty at getting the boy to reveal this story. It wasn't something he really had to know except that Joshua seemed to just unload. Maybe it was better this way, after all he knew what it was like to lose someone so dear. Alan rocked Joshua back and forth as the sobs continued.
A movement in the shadows by the door caught Alan's attention and he saw Namkhai quietly watching. The monk nodded to him then turned to leave when he knew he had been seen. A few minutes later he came back with several monks who took Joshua from Alan's arms and led him away. Namkhai remained and smiled warmly at him.
"The Rinpoche wishes to see you now," he said.
He led Alan down a small hallway to a plain door where he paused, putting his hand on the boy's arm.
"You have a kind heart, dear boy. Many are blessed with the need to help others but you have a special gift. You may go inside now, I will leave you here."
Alan walked into an office, not unlike Mr. Rouse's, the Montgomery High principal. A plain desk sat surrounded with four chairs and a few overstuffed bookcases, John was already there. Through a side door came an elderly monk carrying a tray filled with cups of steaming tea. Alan thought he might be a servant but John quickly rose and bowed to the man. Alan bowed as he supposed would be proper. The old man smiled as he set the tray on the desk.
"We don't bow to one another very much, my young Masters. We are all equally miserable human beings."
"Yes sir," Alan said.
"I hear you just had an interesting talk with our stowaway Joshua."
Alan nodded, what else did this man know?
"It may have just been the time for him to tell someone of his needs. But I think your skill in understanding people brought about the catharsis. We have been waiting for him to tell his story.
"Many young men come forth and divulge the darkest part of their lives here. I now think Joshua will find it possible to join us."
"I think that's great," Alan said, "will he become monk?"
"Possibly, it will be his choice. But what of you, what do you want, young master?"
"I don't know," Alan said. "Quite honestly I came here to be with John and see what Buddhism means to him."
"Unselfish, I believe, but what of yourself? You have needs beyond the bounds of your mortal flesh. Do you not seek a path for yourself?"
The Rinpoche sat sipping his tea quietly but Alan could see his eyes sparkling, he was enjoying this.
"I suppose it would be worthwhile to learn about the things I have seen and felt," Alan said. "John knows what I mean and maybe he can give it a better name. It's like wanting to be able to find that other place inside me, the place where I can hear an ocean lapping at the shore."
"He had a vision," John said, "we were saying the mantra for the jewel of consciousness. It was really intense for him, but he thinks I hypnotized him and… "
The Rinpoche's eyebrows went up but he showed no other outward emotion. John seemed to feel the subtlety of the moment and became silent.
"If you wish to work with us, meditate with us and live as we do for the time you are here, Master Alan, then we will welcome you. In this humble place of contemplation you may find what you seek. "
"Thank you, sir," Alan said.
"You may go now, but my door is always open to our young visitors. I wish to speak with your friend here for a while longer."
Alan wandered down the hall, figuring that the Rinpoche and John were discussing some intimate Buddhist details he wouldn't understand anyway. He wondered how Joshua was doing and really hoped they would accept him here, he needed someplace to call home.
The sound of chanting caught his attention and he followed it to the carved doors of what had to be their temple. He didn't want to open them and intrude so he went around to the side, looking for a way to sneak in unnoticed. There was a small door at the back of the building and he dared to try it. It was dark inside and Alan realized he was standing behind the figure of a large Buddha. As his eyes adjusted he saw a monk moving towards him in the gloom, it was Namkhai.
"I was hoping you might join us in meditation," the monk whispered, "please come and I will find you a place."
He led Alan around the statue and they sat on cushions along one side behind the other monks. The temple held several dozen worshipers and the chanting went on despite the interruption. Settling down, Alan caught the words, hoping they would not be too complicated for him to follow. Namkhai slid a card over in front of him and pointed to the mantra, now he had a cheat sheet to follow.
Alan read the words and joined in the call to Rama to send healing energy to the world. He had seen Joshua sitting calmly in the back when he came in and hoped this mantra was for his peace of mind. The series of words was complicated but they soon became a background to his innermost thoughts as he looked up at the smiling Buddha.
The manifestations of Buddhism seemed to be a series of truths and rules that allowed the follower to achieve many goals, the attainment of everlasting peace being the foremost objective. Alan thought about the violence manifest in the world right now and realized that this was a task of gigantic proportion. The war in Vietnam was still his biggest fear. He and John were going to enroll in college, anything to avoid the military. He just couldn't see himself in uniform, one of the nameless hordes in green trained only to kill. No, it just wasn't on his list of things to accomplish in life.
Namkhai touched his arm and Alan realized the monks had stopped chanting but he was still mumbling the words.
"You were deep in thought," the man kindly said," I did not wish to disturb you."
"I was thinking about the destruction of the world," Alan said. "Since we have begun the war in Vietnam it often intrudes in my thoughts and frightens me."
"We are all afraid of the horrors of war, Master Alan. That is why we pray for peace. I saw many people die in my own land from the senseless brutality of the Chinese soldiers. Someday I hope to return and bring the words of peace to my people, maybe not in this lifetime but I pray for guidance."
"We are fortunate that war has never come to our country in the modern age," Alan said. "Surely if we could feel the heat of battle where we live this country would not be so quick to anger and engage in senseless fighting."
"The Christians have a verse in their Bible that says, "and a child shall lead them." If only the old men who run this country could hear your words. They contain much wisdom for one so young. I am glad our paths have crossed Master Alan, I can learn much from you."
His words startled Alan, what could Namkhai possibly learn from a high school boy?
"But I'm just a novice," Alan said," I came here to learn from you."
Namkhai only smiled in return and Alan suddenly felt very tired and covered his mouth as he yawned.
"It has been a long journey for you today, best that you go and rest now, our day begins very early in the monastery."
"How will I know when to rise?" Alan asked.
"We will call you to prayer, have no fear, you will know, "he laughed." May the peace of Buddha bring you a restful sleep, young Master."
Alan followed him out into the dark cold and scurried towards the room they had been assigned. He could see light burning under several doors along the way. Buddhism seemed to require a great deal of study and he imagined these men must read late into the night to keep up. He hoped Joshua was doing alright. There had been no chance to thank the boy for his honesty.
He found John unpacking a few things in their sleeping room. No, this wasn't a room, it was a cell. All it lacked was bars on the window, but first it needed to have that window, this was a cave.
"Did you have a nice chat with the Rinpoche?" Alan asked.
"He's really a wonderful man. I think we'll get along great. I'm setting up a program of study that will cover a whole spectrum of Buddhist history. I want enough information to be able to plan a good peace movement when we get home."
"Cool, Namkhai and I talked about that too. So you guys didn't talk about me after I left?" Alan asked.
"Yes we did, it's not a secret, Alan. He's curious about our relationship."
"Uh oh, is that bad for you?
"No, everything is just fine, trust me. You look pretty beat," John said.
"Right now my eyelids are so heavy I just might pass out. Are you planning to sleep anytime soon?" Alan asked.
"Now is fine with me, did they warn you about the early wake up?" John replied.
"It must be the Buddhist version of reveille, gongs and bells."
"I guess, but it happens at four in the morning," John said.
"Oh shit, and they don't drink coffee, do they?" Alan groaned.
They laid out the sleeping bags side by side on the pallet. The heater was going full blast, as expected it had no noticeable effect on the cold. Hurriedly stripping down to long johns, they dived in the bags. John reached up and pulled the string hanging down from the bare light bulb and everything went black. Alan snuggled down in the bag, zipping himself in tight.
"Good Night, Alan, sleep well."
"You too, John, and thanks for bringing me along. I love you."
"I think love is really a very Buddhist concept, all things have an affinity for one another in nature," he replied.
"So…?"
"I'm sorry, what I meant to say was I love you too, Alan."
Alan closed his eyes and the sandman took him into a dreamless sleep.
Bong…kabong…bong…kabong, he sat bolt upright. Damn, he'd just gone to sleep, right? He grabbed for his watch, the lighted dial said four o'clock. Bong...kabong, the temple bell rang once again. Finally the light came on. Poor John had been frantically trying to find the damn string to the bulb in the dark.
"Oh man, this is real, isn't it?" he asked.
"Afraid so," Alan said and gave him a hug. John smiled and kissed him on the nose.
"That's far enough," John said. "Now I'm warning you I've got a hard on because I gotta piss. I don't want you to get the wrong idea when I get out of my sleeping bag."
"I suppose you can just go and piss over the rail outside, a very Tibetan solution to the problem."
"No way, it'll freeze off. Besides there's a pot over there in the corner for just that purpose."
Alan reached for his jeans which seemed to be frozen stiff. He listened to John pissing in the bucket.
"We better get dressed before we freeze. Will you look at my pants?" Alan asked.
"They're frozen stiff," John chuckled, "didn't you take them in the bag with you last night?
"Hey, I'm no good at camping in the freezing cold," Alan moaned.
"You had better dig out another pair because I'm not sharing mine," John said.
"Oh funny boy, four a.m. and you're funny, thanks."
That was almost the last exchange they had until later that afternoon. Alan realized that time just seemed suspended in the monastery. John went with the Rinpoche at dawn after the monastic ritual of morning prayers. Alan was immediately taken in hand by Namkhai.
They sat in the study, a room within the larger part of the monastery. Namkhai brought out texts that had been translated from the ancient Sanskrit to French and then to English. The latter suffered in all the shuffling of words and Alan had to ask a lot of questions. Namkhai was the embodiment of patience.
"So many religions have practices that are best described as unusual, secretive or mystical. Tantric Buddhism practice uses mental focus to achieve enlightenment in body and mind. Tantra is like a holy writing?" Namkhai searched for the word.
"Scripture, the text of religious practice," Alan ventured.
"Yes, it means that and more. Buddhism takes on many forms. To the outside world we are a religion when in truth it is a way of life and a means of examining that life. His Highness the Dalai Lama directs our spiritual form, but there are many divisions amongst us. Our goals may be the same, but there are many paths one might follow."
"Why do you suppose I can see things in my mind?" Alan asked.
"The ability to reach into the next level of consciousness is often the result of years of learning to focus the energy," Namkhai said. "Your body depends on the mind for guidance. The practice of yoga is a means of discipline for the body and thus the mind is freed for its journey. Will you tell me the first time you felt out of your body and into a different consciousness?"
Alan knew this was coming, was he prepared to tell the monk about Tommy? He figured he would have to, at this level all learning had to be a matter of trust between student and master.
"I guess I always found it easy to analyze things, even as a young boy. Events in my life seemed to have no order about them so I used intuition to understand them and not always very well. These are all things I can see now. I didn't have a clue when I was younger. My awareness always seemed to happen in response to an emotional event in my life. Sometimes it can seem so very overwhelming. Like when my friend Tommy died."
"Ah, you had a friend die, a powerful influence," Namkhai said.
"The last time I dwelt upon it I had a vision, fortunately John was there. You know, I really think he made the vision happen, like he hypnotized me or something."
"Please tell me about your friend and let's talk about the feelings as they develop, I will stop you if I feel anything change in you."
"You can feel my thoughts?" Alan asked.
"It is my way," he responded with a smile," a place where I may focus my energies and heal."
"I don't really understand the vision. What do you think?" Alan asked.
"I think it is cold outside and we are safe and warm in this room, nothing else matters at this time. Tell me about your friend Tommy."
Alan sat for a moment and decided to begin at the beginning. As he focused on describing the physical attributes Tommy had and the antics the boy induced him to follow, Alan felt a shift begin to happen inside. Even as he began to describe the physical relationship, he knew it would begin leading him into an emotional conclusion and now things seemed to be losing focus.
"Stop, please," Namkhai said," what changes do you feel?"
"Wow, I just felt a small shift. But of what? My mind was looking ahead, knowing that I would soon be approaching a place where I would have to tell you how I felt about him beyond the physical aspect of our relationship."
"Emotions are the means by which the mind captures the body. Anger, fear, joy, sorrow, these things have no physical manifestation until the mind forces the body to react," Namkhai said. "Love is also such an emotion, Master Alan. It does not always affect the proper response from the body."
"I know, I've allowed my body to rule my mind too often. Sex is a powerful drug, I can see why devout Buddhists avoid it," Alan said.
"Everything is inspired by thought or a lack of thought, "the monk said, and he smiled, "sex is such a thing. I was a boy once too, you know. I suffered the temptations of my body. Then my true path was revealed and so I put aside my childish thoughts. Do you know the word duhkha?"
Alan shook his head, "No, it's new to me."
"The Buddha began his spiritual path when he realized duhkha. It may be called the suffering of the world, there are many ways it is manifest. We suffer from the moment of birth to the death of our bodies. It is the nature of our existence in this world. Those who seek only pleasure are missing the fullness of their lives. Everything has a place in the balance of the universe."
"So my emotions are part of the pain in my life?" Alan asked.
"Ah, yes…and no," Namkhai said." Understanding duhkha means knowing that pain is universal, it is not just your own loss that makes you cry, tears belong to us all.
I stopped you a few moments ago because I felt a change in your feelings and wanted you to recognize it, shall we continue?"
Alan knew that John helped him enter the vision by using the mantras so he began to chant and Namkhai joined in. Om Mani Padme Ohm. The repetition brought his body to a relaxed state and Alan felt his mind begin to drift.
As before, he saw a brightness surrounding the periphery of his sight and then it cleared. Suddenly he heard the sound of children's voices, laughing and taunting.
"Come on you little faggot, put it in your mouth."
"No, I won't," came the reply. Alan knew that voice.
They were in a dense clump of bushes beside a brick wall. The scene was familiar, and he realized this was his old elementary school. Oh damn, it was Brian Schmidt and this was fourth grade, the day of his greatest humiliation as a child.
They had been playing kick ball against the side of the building when Mrs. Adams left the playground, taking Janet Russell's bloody nose inside to the nurse. Alan had been dragged into the bushes by three pairs of willing hands, and now two of the boys held him down on his knees. Brian had pulled his ten-year-old stiffie out of his pants and was waving it in Alan' face, ordering him to open his mouth.
Brian and Alan had spent the night over at a mutual friend's house the weekend before. They had both pulled out their little pricks and played with them, wishing they were bigger. Then Alan made the dumb move, he touched Brian's cock with his hand and then put it in his mouth. Brian seemed to like it then because he had Alan do it several times that night. Somehow it was now public knowledge and Alan knew he would have to suck every cock in school if he didn't shut things down right away.
"Come on, do it again sissy boy," Brian said. He knew Mrs. Adams would return soon.
The vision had placed Alan inside his ten-year-old self, seeing through his own eyes. The other boy's fist hit his left eye and he felt Brian trying to pry his jaws open. Alan opened his mouth and Brian slid himself right in. Then Alan bit down on him.
Brian's screams filled the air and the two accomplices vanished. Alan let go as Brian sank to the ground holding his penis. He looked at Alan through his tears.
"Why'd you do that," he sobbed," I didn't want to hurt you."
Alan looked down at the little boy crying and it suddenly hit him. Brian really had wanted to have sex with him. The bully routine was only a cover up to find out if Alan was agreeable. Brian's face was a mask of pain. Alan had destroying any chance he may have had of ever sharing pleasure with this boy again. Turning slowly, Alan stepped back through the branches and his world went white once again.
Om Mani Padme Ohm, he was still chanting. Namkhai sat peacefully beside him. Alan suddenly remembered what he had just seen and stopped.
"Oh, that was terrible," he said. "Poor Brian, I hurt him for nothing, damn."
"Do you have some understanding of the moment? I saw you inflict pain in response to pain, both the physical and emotional were present, they were the same."
"Poor Brian," Alan repeated," he really did like me I guess. I think he might have accepted me as a homosexual, maybe he had those feelings too. But we were so young, there was no expressing these things to one another, it just couldn't have happened. He hurt me to mask the true feelings he had towards me, I retaliated. It was all so senseless.
But you know all this don't you? You saw it just as I did, how can you do that?"
"I am but the servant of my master," Namkhai said. "Now you see there is much that you can learn here. Strength is balanced by weakness, just as love and hate are two sides of the same coin. You will understand both as one in time. There is no chance to change what is past, we may only learn from it. A man may cross a river only once, it will not be the same when he crosses it yet again."
"Thank you for the wisdom you have given me," Alan said.
"Ah, silly boy, I have given you nothing," Namkhai chuckled. "Wisdom is not given, it is shared. The body of knowledge already exists. You only needed to be shown how to find it. Go now, we will try again tomorrow."
Alan walked the planks of the wide porch with care. Ice had begun to intrude on the walkways. John wasn't in their sleeping quarters or any other place he looked. It was not time to eat and the temple was empty, where could he be?
Alan climbed the steep ladder-like staircase to the top of the temple building, maybe he could see over the wall from up here. Then he heard the sound of birds chattering and knew John was close.
The room he stepped into was full of birds in flight, moving here and there around the bright room. He could see small finches, parakeets and the bright yellow of canary birds, all mingled with other colors of the rainbow. There must have been fifty birds in the room, which was lined with small elegant bamboo cages. Then he saw John and had to laugh.
The boy was sitting on the floor covered in birds and the things birds do. But he was smiling, a beatific smile that expressed harmony with the world he had entered. Right then Alan saw clearly why he was in love. John's emotions were so close to the surface, there was no duplicity in his feelings about life or their relationship.
Alan heard a noise and turned just as an elderly monk emerged from some back room carrying a small cage. He waved at Alan, that curious underhanded wave used by many Asian cultures that said "come here." Alan crossed the room and the old man acted like he had been there all along.
"Go place this near the water trough," he said, "we will catch him that way."
Alan went to do his bidding and then the old man seemed to realize this boy was new to the picture.
"Oh, where do you come from?" he said, the accent heavy on his tongue.
"My name is Alan, Grandfather. I am John's friend and I came to find him."
"Oh, he is studying to be a tree, do you see?" the old man said, delighted to explain what seemed so obvious. He grinned somewhat toothlessly and quickly left the room again.
"Yes, Grandfather, he looks like he's enjoying himself," Alan said to the swirl of air he left behind, no matter.
This place was wonderful and Grandfather seemed to be very much a part of the whole. Alan did not know the old man's name but one could never go wrong using the honorific Grandfather to an elderly man.
The tall glass windows kept the place warm and Alan could see that there was also baseboard heating built in as well. Maybe they could sleep up here? These birds looked like they could escape if they desired but they didn't seem the least bit inclined to leave. Here they had food, water and the kind attention of the Buddha, he was beginning to understand how they felt.
Somehow in the unfailing search for the new and different, John had stumbled upon Grandfather's lair. Alan recalled his love for all things in nature and especially the ornithological conversations between John and Louie. Alan looked over him, thinking he might be in a trance but John was only transformed by a state of sheer bliss.
"Aren't they wonderful?" John said.
"They certainly have taken to you, oh watch out, that one is about to bite your ear...oops, too late," Alan chuckled.
"Aw, they've been nibbling on me for an hour, I'm used to it. Sit with me, will you?"
"Do I have to ask Grandfather's permission?"
"His name is Deeban, but Grandfather sounds fine too, good thinking," John said. "He's the oldest monk here and speaks little English. I came up here to look over the wall and found all this. How are you, ok?"
"I came up here for the same reason, we do think alike," Alan said. "John, do you know that Namkhai can read minds, not just read them but see what's in them as well?"
"Did you have another of those visions?"
"Yes, he led me into it just like you did but he must have seen it in his own mind, how is that possible?" Alan asked.
"There is much about the mystic practices I don't understand," John said. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if Namkhai is a very special person. Tell me what happened."
Surrounded by the chaos of the aviary, Alan explained his morning visit with Namkhai and the jump back to childhood. His excitement at having discovered a truth about a past event was contagious, they soon became entangled in analyzing how the monk had brought these revelations to Alan's thoughts.
"I just feel that Namkhai isn't telling me everything about his involvement, shouldn't he be more open?" Alan asked.
"Much of the power accumulated by the monks is kept hidden," John reminded him," remember Alan, it hasn't always been this easy for them to practice their beliefs. The mysticism within the Buddhist Tantric order has been suppressed for centuries but there still have to be some who carry the basic elements, the dharmas are with them."
"This stuff is dynamite. Can you imagine the level of power they must control?"
"I think our friend Namkhai is something very special but I hesitate to name it," John said.
"Don't tell me you're superstitious?" Alan asked.
"No, it's not that, it just seems so unbelievable. If it were true, the mere presence of such a holy person would be beyond comprehension, the true essence of spiritual enlightenment."
"Is that possible?"
"I don't know. But I don't think he has much competition, if that's what you're asking. Oh man, think of the knowledge he must have learned to get this far. We are in the presence of the most wonderful person, his significance to this monastery is already evident," John said.
"But the Rinpoche is their leader, isn't he."
"Yes, a role he probably would gladly put aside just to be an ordinary monk, but someone has to be in charge. Namkhai is probably a recent development here. But you're closer to him now. Why don't you ask him?"
"Won't that be prying?" Alan asked.
"Only if he doesn't trust you with the information," John said. "But I think from what you told me about your session with him this morning, you two are going to get along fine, trust is implicit."
"My head hurts," Alan said," I feel like so much is happening so fast."
"Here, have a parakeet to soothe your mind." It was John's way of distracting him and it seemed to work as they played with the birds, cleaned their cages and saw to their basic needs. They were both covered with bird droppings but it all felt wonderful until they reported for supper and noses sniffed at them from a distance. They took the food back to their sleeping room and ate in silence. Finally John spoke up.
"I suggest a bath if you can handle the sight of my naked body."
"The curve of your neck as you sit there fully clothed is just as likely to inspire lust in me. I promised to put aside sexuality this week. I am keeping that promise," Alan said.
"Good, we stink real badly, buddy boy."
Alan noted that the bathing facilities in a monastery leave much to be desired, and they certainly didn't inspire any feelings of luxury or lust. Afterwards they dressed in clean clothes and John said he had promised to help clean the altar in the temple, a ritual cleansing. Alan decided to see if he could find Joshua. They had not spoken since the night before and he hoped the boy didn't regret revealing his life's story to a total stranger.
The evening chill had driven almost everyone indoors but Alan learned that Joshua was still out in the barn with the animals. It was one of the nice things about the monastery, fresh milk from their own herd of goats to enrich the diet. He zipped up and took the path through the forest beyond the wall. The garage was closed up but he could see a light out in the back part of the barn and hear the sound of goats thumping around in their stalls.
The single door at the end of the path led him into the cavernous space between piles of feed and bedding hay. The pungent smell of animals confined for the winter assaulted the nostrils but he could also feel the warmth these animals produced. He walked to the edge of the pens and saw Joshua with a small goat in his arms moving across the enclosed space. The boy set the little animal down beside its mother and was greeted with a loud bleat of sound, she was happy. It was a beautiful scene and the serenity on the boy's face showed that he cared for his flock.
"Hi, Joshua," Alan called.
The boy turned at the greeting and waved Alan towards the gate at the end of the pen.
"Alan, how are you? I was wondering if we would get a chance to talk after I laid that heavy trip on you last night."
"No, I enjoyed the insight. Actually I was afraid you might think I was prying into your personal life," he said.
"I'm afraid I don't have a personal life anymore. You're looking at just another lowly novice tending the flock that feeds his brothers." Joshua might have been complaining but he wore a smile as he spoke. "I should be thanking you for making me face up to my past."
"Do you have a moment? I don't want to keep you from your chores," Alan asked.
"I'm just finishing up, come on, I have some tea left, want a cup?"
"Sure, it was a cold walk out here."
They sat on a couple of hay bales and Joshua shared out the remainder of his herbal tea, a blend the monks made and Alan was beginning to like a whole lot. The boy handed him the cup and then paused, his hand on Alan' arm.
"I really do need to thank you for putting up with my tears, I haven't cried like that since I was a kid," Joshua said.
"That's ok, I cry like that all the time when I think about some of the worst parts of my life. I'm happy for you, it turned out so well. I mean, the past nearly killed you and now you have a new family here," Alan said. "I've only been exposed to the Buddhist philosophy for such a short time and yet this seems like a wonderful place to live."
"I'm no good with words, ya know. I only had a third grade education before it all went to shit… oops, I'm not supposed to cuss anymore," Joshua said.
"You express yourself very well, "Alan said, "I really got the full meaning of what had happened to you in the words, the emotions, everything. It isn't just fancy words I respect, but the way you told it. We all live around so many lies it's really great to hear someone be so honest."
"I hope I didn't offend you with the gay crack, man. That's been bothering me all day," Joshua said. "I gotta tell you something, I had a few boyfriends on the street myself. At first it was all about survival, ya know, but I got to enjoy their company and the things we did."
"I'm glad you told me that, but you're making a choice here that probably means putting all that behind you. Whatever you finally decide, just be sure it's right for you."
"You're like a year younger than me but you have so much goin for you upstairs," Joshua said, pointing a finger at his forehead, "I wish I was as smart as you, maybe I wouldn't be here."
"Maybe you're smarter than me and that's why you are here?" Alan countered.
"I can't possibly tell you what I would have done if I'd been in your shoes. But I don't think I would have survived on the street, I don't have those skills."
"Is it hard being gay?" Joshua asked.
"Yeah, I've had some pretty bad years. I screwed up pretty badly for a while. We both know what loss means."
"Glenn and I were boyfriends too, ya know, he was nineteen. I never told anybody that before. I met him after Paul threw me out. He kept me out of trouble."
"Well, at least he helped you survive. I'm sorry he had to die, but he did teach you a valuable lesson, that heroin shit kills you. Oops, now I'm sorry."
Joshua laughed, "You can cuss up a storm if you want. I didn't think you were here to become a monk…are you?"
"No, I came here to be with John and support his Buddhist studies. He's been my best friend for only a short while but I feel like I've known him for a long time."
"He seems like a nice guy. I think I envy him, seems like I never could get that close with anyone other than Glenn, too many secrets to hide. I could have been best friends with someone like you, it would have been easy. Is he thinking about becoming a monk too?"
Alan sat there thinking about that, could he have ever learned to love a drug addict? But as for John, was there a chance that he was thinking about becoming a monk? He had said he wouldn't, had he changed his mind?
"Uh, I don't know what John's plans are actually. I guess there are some things I just can't ask him yet, why did you ask?"
"I'm sorry, guess I should have kept my mouth shut," Joshua said.
"No, seriously, what brought that up?"
"I was just thinking that if I had a boyfriend like you I wouldn't give him up to become a monk, I'd have everything I need."
The John question was nagging but Alan had to smile, the boy had just paid him a sweet compliment and it deserved an equal reply.
"That was nice of you. I suppose if I had been there when you got thrown out of the house, I would have welcomed you with open arms. I think you're a sweet guy, Joshua. I'm glad we're friends."
Joshua smiled. "I know you're gonna leave here. The monks are teaching me how to read and write better. Would you mind if I wrote to you, and would you write me back?"
"Sure thing, maybe you can come visit if they send you down to the temple in Maryland, that's where I met Namkhai," Alan said.
"Yeah, I know. He told me he had to go to Maryland to meet someone and that two boys would be coming here for a visit," Joshua said.
"He said what?" Alan exclaimed.
"Huh, did I say something wrong?" Joshua asked.
"No, it's ok. You said he told you he was going to Maryland to meet someone and that those persons would be coming here, did he say who he was going to meet?" Alan asked.
"I thought it was you, he said a young man and his friend, that's you and John, isn't it?"
"How did you hear about this?" Alan asked.
"I guess I was just there, sweepin the floors, when he made the travel plans with the monk who does the secretary job in the office. I didn't know it was supposed to be some kind of secret, I'm sorry."
"No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just…oh man, Namkhai couldn't have known about me back then, I mean I didn't even know this place existed. Wow, he really does have the power. Thanks Josh, you did everything right, thanks for being my friend."
"You called me Josh…Glenn used to call me that," he said.
"You're not a monk yet are you?" Alan asked.
"No, that takes years of study, it might take me a lifetime," he said.
Alan reached over and grabbed the boy's neck, pulling his face close and kissing him on the lips. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn't have done it but Josh deserved to know that he was serious about being a friend. Besides, the boy had given the game a whole new angle that Alan had never even considered. Their lips parted and he saw the look of astonishment on Josh's face turn into a smile.
"That was awesome, I'll remember that for a long time," he said. "But please, don't do it again or I might never get to be a monk."
They finished the tea and turned off the lights in the barn. Outside the night chill had set in but the sky was so clear up here in the mountains a million stars lit their way back. They walked with arms around each other, the city boy and the suburban kid, the monk to be and the what, Alan asked himself? What was Namkhai keeping from him? Who was this guy?
Somehow they had known about John and Alan thought that was pretty spooky. No, John would think it was spooky, he was just plain worried. There was something so big about all of this, big enough to bring Namkhai all the way to Maryland to find the boy. He had no doubt that they had been looking for John, but why? Man, this was going be a long two weeks.
He hugged Josh closer for warmth. The boy was a simple young man, not stupid, just unwise in this place of great wisdom. It would pay to have a man on the inside here. He was really kinda cute in a gawky way…oops, shouldn't think like that. But John becoming a monk? Like hell…that would happen over his dead body.
On to Chapter Ten
Back to Chapter Eight
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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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