I was on a high after Ralph came to the house. It was proof that I needed to make an effort to get back in with skaters in El Cajon. I didn't have to change anything, except for being out and about instead of going to the house.

I'd seen Ralph and John near the mall a day or two after, and it was obvious John was protective of Ralph, but he didn't stay with him every night. I also knew the homeless boys went with people who paid them for their services. I'd known that from when I was still in school my first year out here. I heard boys talking about making money that way.

California was a different world.

For me, life was pretty good. Work was good. Surfing was good and Skip was better. I had everything I needed and I felt like I was coming back into my own after being off my feed for a year or so. I simply needed to be on the street, and nice things happened. It's how I met Skip, by being out and about.

Someone told me that Ralph was thirteen when I first got to El Cajon. That meant he was probably sixteen by now. I'd seen John with him back then, and John was about nineteen, which wasn't old, when I was seventeen. I don't know why he seemed older now. I guess he looked older. He'd been on the street for that entire time, for all I knew. I don't think he worked beyond selling his favors.

"Morning, Z, running a little behind this morning," Mr Hitchcock said.

"A friend stayed over. I was in no hurry to leave him," I said.

I put my apron on and started moving boxes into the rows where there was plenty of room on shelves that contained the most popular canned goods.

I had nothing on my mind, but canned goods. There would be a delivery in less than half an hour and stopped to help the driver unload. It was just another day at Hitchcock's.

*****

Everything I knew about California, when I lived in Massachusetts, came out of a Beach Boy's song. Once you go to a place you dream about going, you need to adapt to how it really is. There were all the things the Beach Boys sang about, but about a million other things went along with the songs.

When I turned 20, there was cake and Rocky Road Ice Cream. The cake changed year to year, but not the ice cream. Rocky Road, was my favorite, but most cakes were fine with me.

Mr. Hitchcock gave me a hundred dollar savings bond. What I remembered about turning twenty, was Free turned twenty-one the month before. We were together when he turned nineteen. I turned eighteen a month later. These memories slowed me down a little. Something about such landmark dates reminded me of how much I loved and missed Free.

Twenty was important because I left my teens. It wasn't nearly as important as turning twenty-one would be, because twenty-one was the random date picked out to indicate you'd reached manhood. I felt no different the final day of my teens than I did on my first day in my twenties.

I wasn't sure how I'd feel in a year. One thing was for sure, time flew when you were having fun. Time moved faster in California.

California was scary, mysterious, and exciting. Time flew while I had fun, but it wasn't all a piece of birthday cake. There was much learning to be done, because there was a lot I didn't know at seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen, and I was no smarter at twenty.

At home in Massachusetts, learning came slower. My mind was in low gear. Birthdays came and went. I worked at Hitchcock's. It was while sitting on a box of stewed tomatoes, while putting up peaches, people did love their peaches, I was startled out of my usual reverie. I couldn't be sure what broke into my lethargy.

Then, as I tried to concentrate on what I'd heard, I heard it again.

I argued at myself. I was losing what was left of my mind. I'd been daydreaming about Free next to forever, and now I was hearing his voice. Actually, I was hearing him talk to Brenda. She was working the cash register today.

I admit, I did listen, and as I suspected, no one was talking to anyone. I was daydreaming that I heard Free's voice. I'd daydreamed everything else about Free, why not hear his voice? I laughed to myself and went back to my peaches.

I was listening closely and now, I heard nothing. I listened for Mr Hitchcock's presence in his office, where he usually was when Brenda was here. I did hear him rustling paper. There was nothing wrong with my hearing.

I directed my ears at the front of the store. I heard a car pass the open front door, but not a sound at the register, which was odd. Brenda was usually reading something, and I heard her turn pages if I listened for her.

There was no sound of a customer in the store. I thought maybe a customer came in and told Brenda, 'Hello,' and my brained turned that into me hearing Free's voice. I shook my head and put up the last of the peaches.

I was still listening. I'd heard something. Now, I heard nothing as I reached for the box with cans of apple sauce.

That's when I caught sight of some motion coming from the front of the row. As I looked up to see if there was a customer in the store, I saw a guy in a white uniform coming my way. My mind went into a haze. Was I seeing what I was seeing, or was this a dream, and as the white uniform closed in on me, Free took off his dress hat that went with the Navy dress uniform.

I stood with my mouth open as he came up to me, threw his arms around me, and he gave me the biggest kiss. He literally swept me off my feet, swinging me in a circle, after I kicked over the box of stewed tomatoes.

My eyes were hot. My face was hotter. I cried.

I kept saying, "Free. Free. Free. I love you so much."

"I love you, Z. I'll always love you. I want you to know that."

The heat suddenly turned off, as did the tears. What I heard in his voice wasn't that we were going to be together forever. What I heard was, I'll always love you, but ... he'd found someone in the Navy.

Free was at least an inch or two taller. He had gained twenty or more pounds, and there was no flab on him. I held him and he was as solid as you could be. I backed up to look at him in his uniform.

He was beautiful. I did love him so.

I looked and Brenda was away from the front of the row when I checked. I had to look. Mr Hitchcock was away from the back of the row of canned goods. This was private and I wanted no distractions.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked, as he held my hand.

"Mother died. When the Navy cuts you orders and you are told to go home and take care of business, you go home and take care of business."

"I'm sorry," I said, with a feeling of sympathizing coming to me.

"Don't be. She had no use for me. She was alone. Ran everyone off. I guess I'm all she had. I haven't seen her in four years. She's in the ground now. I'll be paying on her funeral for the next decade."

"I'm still sorry," I said, touching his face with the hand he wasn't holding. "Why are you here?"

"To see you, Silly," he said with a hitch in the words as he spoke them. "But?"

He looked at me and then he didn't look. He turned an unhealthy color. It made him look awful in a uniform that color.

"But?"

"I couldn't write it. This way I can tell you to your face, Z. You know I love you. I'll always love you," he said.

"But," I said.

I was determined I would not cry. I'd be a man and wish him well. My heart could break once he was gone. It's not like I hadn't seen it coming.

He had the courage to come face me. I'd have the courage to hear him out.

It wasn't the hug of someone who had forgotten all about me. It was warm and the embrace was genuine. We had loved each other.

"You've grown. Gained weight. You look great, Free."

"I missed you," Free said. "You look great, Z. I mean really great."

I'm still sorry. You haven't written. I can read between the lines, Free. Why are you really here?"

"You read me like a book. Z, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You gave me the strength to do this. I had nothing, until I met you. I've found a home and a life, because of you. I'll always love you for what you gave me."

"But ..., I know Free. You don't fall out of love once you find true love. I'd love things to be different but they aren't. You have a new life and here I am, still living my life. You've met a nice Japanese boy. How could he not fall in love with the handsome hunk of man you've become? I wish things were different. You wish things were different, but they aren't, Free. We live in different worlds now."

"You've met someone," he said with a classic Free smile. "I was hoping that would be the case. I didn't write because I couldn't write what I had to say. You're such a good person. How could people not be lined up wanting to know you?"

"Skip. He taught me to surf. I wrote you about him. He went to Australia to follow the sun. When he came back, well, I've been seeing him for about a year. I love surfing. I love Skip. He's such a nice guy and great fun to be with."

"You deserve to be happy, Z. I'm never coming back here again. I hated coming home. Now that mommy dearest is in the ground, I don't need to come back. I wanted to tell you about Honoka. He's gorgeous, Z. He's funny and smart and he is crazy about me. I couldn't write you about that. I had to come to see you. I wanted to tell you I'll always love you. You put the life back into my life. I'll always love you for that."

"Me and Lucky, huh?"

"I belong in the Navy. I love it and they like me. I'm going to officer's training school. You helped me get my GED and I'll be going to college and getting my commission. There's a captain in Tokyo. He's part of the Southeast Asia Command. He's going to request me on his staff once I get my commission. I'm going to be an officer in the United States Navy. Can you believe that?"

"An officer and a gentlemen," I said.

"Me, a gentlemen? Is that ever a reach," Free said.

I threw my arms around Free. I hugged him tightly so he didn't see my tears. He was all muscle now. The tall skinny kid was a man. I loved him. I had to be happy for him. I'd known for a while that he wasn't coming back to me.

"You're so hot in that uniform, I bet half the Japanese boys think how nice it would be to have a go round with that American," I said, looking at him and blinking away my tears. "I'm happy for you, Free. You go back to Japan and have a fine life. I'd like nothing better," I said with another hug.

His hug had me enveloped in his strong arms and his powerful hands pulled me closer to him. An incredible sadness came over me.

Free sobbed. He felt what I was feeling. This was our last goodbye.

"I love you, Z."

"I know," I said. "Don't forget me. I'll never forget you."

Mr. Hitchcock came toward us. I figured he was going to say enough was enough. Time to get back to work.

"Z, take your young man out of here," Mr. Hitchcock said. "I can manage for the rest of the day. You go. You cut quite a dashing figure in your uniform, Free."

"Thank you, Sir."

"He's got to go back to the Navy," I said.

"Not until tomorrow," Free said. "I left the afternoon open for you, Z. I'll need to report back tonight, but not until later. I wanted to be with you."

I pulled my apron off and handed it to Mr. Hitchcock. I wanted every minute I could get with Free. When he left this time, he'd be gone for good.

"We're out of here," I said, taking Free's hand. "I'll be surfing tomorrow. I'll come back to finish stocking the shelves later tonight. After Free leaves."

"You will not, Z. You go with your young man. Enjoy the time you have because you might regret it if you don't," my boss said.

We walked outside together. It was sunny and warm. I wasn't sure what time it was and I didn't care. Free stopped to hug me as we walked away from Hitchcock's.

We stood and just looked at each other for a minute or two. The love was still there. He was my first and I didn't want to forget him. We lived in different worlds now, but our love would last a thousand years. I never wanted it to end.

We just walked and talked and held hands and walked some more. Free was so much more relaxed than he'd been before. He'd truly found himself and now possessed a self confidence he hadn't displayed before.

We ended up in the woods where we spent nights together. He stood looking at his campsite.

"Nothing is left. I thought we might. One last time."

"I have your pillow. I keep it in plastic and sleep with it at night. Your smell is still on it. I love your smell, Free."

His eyes showed the shock of this revelation. I did still love him.

"I want you inside me," he said. "Like you once did. I want that more than I've ever wanted anything. The leaves are still together under the tree.

"Fold your uniform. You don't want to get it dirty,"

He kicked off his shoes and stripped naked as I watched. I was naked in a minute and a half. I stood watching him pulling off his socks as his erection stood at attention with the tip coated in the fluid that always flowed while we made love. He knelt in front of me and swallowed me. All the old feeling flowed through me. Once he got me where he wanted me, he stood and eased back on me. I was on fire, and I felt like I might explode rather than cum.

His body was as solid as a body could get. He'd grown larger, stronger, more powerful, but he was as tight as he'd always been, and I drove myself crazy working him over, and slowing to a stop, before working up to a frantic pace that Free liked. I wanted it to be the best sex he ever had and I let go after ten or so minutes and filled his insides as I pumped him through a second orgasm.

We had to get off our feet, and as I lay on the bed of leaves, he stood over me with his muscles quivering and his dick so hard I thought it might break, as he sat on my latest erection.

It was as good as it got for me. I was hotter than hot and he knew just what to do, only he did it better, and more determined than ever before. He watched my face to time it so he finished while I was filling him with cum again.

Free was in a trance. His eyes focused as he came up and went back down, and I lifted and settled back on to the leaves. Soon it was a frantic dance of love, and our timing was perfect.

Once we'd gone as far as we could go, we laid together. I held him as I always had, but there was so much more of him than before. What a man he'd become. He'd been a boy when he left. I'd been a boy when he left. His appetites were that of a man, and he was erect again when he said our time had run out. He wanted to go again and suffer the consequences, but I got up and dressed, watching him get into his uniform minus his Navy boxers that he handed to me.

"I've been wearing these since I left Okinawa. It probably reeks, but you take them. I have clean boxers at the station where I need to report tonight."

I shoved his boxers in my back pocket. I didn't want to leave the woods, and we stood kissing just inside the treeline for a few minutes.

"I've got to go," he said. "Walk me to the trolley."

Our hesitant journey to the trolley station in El Cajon had us stopping to get our lips together one last time. Standing just inside the tree line, I held on for dear life. I could feel Free shaking. I shook. Our final moments together were something I always wanted to remember. No matter who loved and how deep was my love, Free would always be my first love. He taught me that lust wasn't love, and once you love, lusting was a pale imitation of what love could be.

For some reason, I wasn't aroused. Free's touch could get me going without a thought, and he could keep me going for hours, which we'd done again that day as we celebrated what we were to each other.

It wasn't as overwhelming as I thought it would be, once the parting was final. I began to love the love I felt for a boy who had become a man as a Navy recruit. Free found himself and he had been found by at least one officer, who knew how to get the most of his find.

It didn't surprise me that other people saw what I saw. Free had finished growing up on his own. He had none of the support I had, and he made the most of what came his way. I was never going to be fond of his recruiter, Lucky, but Lucky also saw a young man who had a future, if he wanted it.

How could I not be happy for my first great love? I wanted Free to be happy and to go as far as he could possibly go. I figured I'd hear his name more than once as my life went on. Free was going to dazzle the Navy with his charm.

As we dressed, he put on and then pulled off his tee-shirt.

"Here. I've got another tee shirt at the Navy station. I haven't changed this since Okinawa either. You'll get a scent of me from it."

I had his boxers in one back pocket and now I put his tee-shirt in the other. If that wasn't love, what was?

As we walked the last block before reaching the trolley stop, we stopped to look at each other. I leaned to put my lips on his. It wasn't passion speaking to me, it was a sense of needing to touch him one last time. We swung our arms as we held hands, walking to the door of the waiting trolley car.

We stood staring at each other. My heart began to pound. My face was hot. My eyes burned. I wasn't going to cry. I memorized his face, his clear focused eyes. The Roman nose blending into his sensual lips.

He held both of my hands and I kissed his lips as two more people came to watch for a few seconds, and then they got on to the trolley.

It was getting dark now. The beautiful day was becoming a beautiful night.

"I've got to go."

"I know," I said, kissing him again.

"I've really got to go," he said, leaning to kiss my lips.

He let go of my hands to grab me. The kiss spoke for itself. My eyes got hot and then hotter. The kiss was a kiss for the ages.

It would need to last a lifetime.

"I love you, Z. I'll never forget you."

The buzzer sounded to alert us the trolley was about to start moving.

Free turned to go up the stairs into the trolley car. Turning to look out, the tears ran down his face.

I would not cry.

The trolley bell rang twice and on the second bell the trolley began to move.

Our eye contact was broken. Free moved swiftly to the rear of the almost empty car, putting his wide open hand on the glass as he watched me.

I would not cry.

I raised my hand in a salute before holding it high in the air as the trolley car slowly moved out of sight.

I sobbed on my way home. I stepped out in front of a car, and just managed to speed out of the way. It was only two more blocks. Maybe I could make it. I was walking because I left my skateboard at Hitchcock's. I never walked. If I went outside, I was getting into a car or heading to work. I couldn't remember the last time I didn't take my skateboard with me.

I hit the front door and went straight upstairs. My father would have called Hitchcock's to ask about my tardiness. He'd be told, 'Free is in town."

My parents knew not to expect me. They watched me falling in love with Free. They could see it was no passing fancy. Free was in my bed many nights. After he left, they watched my depression become a withdrawal from life.

I took Free's pillow out of the plastic. I pushed his boxers into the pillow case and smoothed them out once they reached bottom. I slipped his tee-shirt over the pillow case.