"Ethan you there?"

I could feel and hear my heart beat. I held the phone to my ear and sat on the soft bed. The Hawaiian night was humid. My skin was moist.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm just surprised. What's up?"

He sighed.

"I called because..."

He paused.

"I called to ask about homework."

I almost let out a laugh.

"A one page paper on what the meaning of life is. It's only Saturday."

He had many friends in our social ethic's class.

"I know. I just want to get it out of the way. You're the only one in that class who looks like their paying attention."

The draft in the room made my nipples tingle.

"Sort of comes with the `new guy' package. But I seriously find it interesting. And Mr. Buchanan sounds like he has insight."

He paused again.

"Yeah. Well thanks Ethan. I've got to wake up early and do some stuff. So I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah."

I yawned.

"Oh and Ethan..."

"Yes Damien?"

"You're an amazing kisser."

He hung up before I could say anything.

The next few days were pretty busy. I did homework on Sunday. I somehow persuaded Pierre to do our math work in the library for about an hour. I then chilled with Eric and his Brown member friends at the beach for the rest of the afternoon. Snowy and I had a sci-fi movie night at the school theatre with some of the drama students. Monday went by pretty quickly and I had my first real basketball practice with the Vietnamese Gold member Boo who never goes by his actual name, Paul. The rest of the team seemed nice outside of a game, but became overly aggressive on the court. Coach Decker told me that he was impressed with my ball handling and even made a perverse joke about it. Tuesday was a tricky day because I had an English assignment due the next day but I also had my first job training at the Dessert Bar. I worked around it and ended up cramming the assignment at night. The following day I was very drained but I still went to workout with Snowy in the morning. He asked if I was ok, and like always I told him not to worry. But after basketball practice and job training I came back to the dorm completely exhausted.

Damien ignored me during class all week. I tried to greet him once but after a while I kind of got the hint. He would say `hey' and then turn to talk to a friend. It was odd and I hoped that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable on our Spiritual Retreat this week. My brother, Lee, told me not to think about it too much and that I should just let things be what they are.

During the day of the retreat we were let out of class early. I went into my dorm room to change. I decided to wear simple clothes for this little excursion into the jungles of the island. I slipped into a fading pair of jeans with a small rip on the side. A white shirt clung nicely on my chest. I placed some of the few clothing that I had and sufficient toiletry into an old and tattered backpack. With my packed bag on my shoulder I entered the meeting place for Mr. Buchanan's class. The cafeteria. There was a crowd around the three gold members who were going on the trip. Joe talked in his loud and booming voice. Bobby giggled hysterically as he switched a song on his expensive stereo. Damien smiled broadly, sitting on the table with his hands in his football jacket.

"As I was saying," Joe boomed.

"While this woman was speeding ten miles over the speed limit she passed over a bridge only to find a cop with a radar gun on the other side waiting. The cop pulled her over, walked up to the car, and with that classic patronizing smirk we all know and love, asked, `What's your hurry?' To which the woman replied, `I'm late for work'. `Oh yeah,' the cop said, `what do you do?' The lady responded, `I'm a rectum stretcher'. The cop stammered, `A what? A rectum stretcher? And what exactly does a rectum stretcher do?' `Well,' she said, `I start by inserting one finger, then work my way to two fingers, then three, then four, then with my whole hand in. I work from side to side until I can get both hands in, and then slowly but surely stretch, until it's about six feet wide'. He looks at her with skepticism in his eyes and asks, `Just what the hell do you do with a six foot asshole?' She answered, `You give him a radar gun and park him behind a bridge'."

The crowd of people roared. I chuckled, waving to some people and then passing by.

"Traffic ticket: $95.00. Court costs: $45.00. The look on the cop's face: Priceless!" I heard Bobby add.

Bobby's full name was Roberto DaCosta. His true love and passion for life was music. He was the guy at school that would always be wearing a set of headphones and drumming to the beat of a song. He was a small freshman with small features. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in personality. He was ambitious, easy-going and the life of any party. His family owned an airline in Mexico and he grew up in a highly stratified society. Bobby lived behind the gates of the DaCosta mansion. But whenever his nanny would buy something from the market, he would go with her. In town he would play with kids his own age. The Gold member realized at a young age that his friends were economically disadvantaged. They were poor. They worked long hours in clothing and shoe factories that paid pennies an hour. After he would play with them, Bobby would pretend to drop money from his pocket. When his friends picked it up for him he would tell them that it didn't belong to him.

On his twelfth birthday his father had one of the rooms in the mansion remade into a recording studio that also functioned like a radio station. Though he was delighted with his father's gift, he was still unhappy about the situation in town. Using the gift as an opportunity, Bobby played his favorite songs that he knew children in the city couldn't afford to buy. His mother finally noticed her son's compassion and empathy for the poor in Mexico. She was a politician who was running a campaign against the North American Free Trade Agreement. The agreement favored Americans by taking away taxes and tariffs from imported goods in North America. However, this obliterated small businesses and farmers from Mexico because it meant that large corporations from America could sell their goods to the Mexicans for a lower price. The small businesses and farmers could not compete with that. Mrs. DaCosta believed that Mexico could free itself from economic oppression. But it was her son that showed her that one must take small steps in order to create a better world. Together, Bobby and his mother built two schools and an orphanage in town. Education is the key to the elimination of poverty. Because of his radio station and his dedication to children Bobby was known as the Anne Frank of his town, the hope of Mexico.

When young Roberto DaCosta enrolled to Montega Academy he had instant popularity. He was celebrated as a hero. Lucky, the school president and leader of the Gold members made Bobby an honorary Gold member. He was now in charge of volunteer organizations and is the first DJ of the institute. My own mother once told me that looks could be deceiving. I glanced at Bobby and he looked like any other kid his age. He laughed loudly at Joe's antics while he danced to the sounds emanating from his boom box. He wore an oversized shirt and a bandana that covered his curly hair. Who could ever believe that this small kid could have so much in him?

I walked outside on the verandah of the cafeteria on the second floor. Tropical flowers littered in every corner. The employees of the school paid close attention to their garden that scattered throughout the grounds. The tables were set up like a patio with a large umbrella in the middle. Snowy sat on the far corner where he was admiring how the waves bled over the sand. In his view, you could see how nature contrasted with the high-rise buildings of downtown. It was an urban community set in paradise. Snowy's pimply face turned to my direction.

"I just got an idea Ethan," he grinned.

I sat in the seat across from him.

"Ok?"

He pushed his sliding glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"How about you don't go?"

I laughed.

"On the trip?"

He giggled but suddenly cast his eyes down.

"It's just... Before you came to this school, I had no one. This place was made for guys like us to enjoy. But you can't enjoy anything if you don't have anyone to enjoy it with."

I nodded.

"Don't worry Snowy. I'll be back in a few days."

I brushed a few blond strands of hair from my shimmering blue eyes.

"What am I going to do till then?"

He scratched his head.

"Talk to people. Make new friends. Find people, like you, who are lonely and just want to enjoy a place like this for guys like us."

He smiled.

"I'm hungry," he said while rubbing his stomach.

The cafeteria of the school reminded me of every anniversary my parents had together. They would take us out to eat at an expensive buffet in town. The amount of options was endless and the desserts were infamous. The school cafeteria was set up like a buffet on the lower floor. Each row represented a different food group and was subdivided into international tastes. Everyday there was a different ensemble of food and recipes. There were many chefs in the school and they rotated their shifts so that each could show case their specific and diverse talents throughout the day.

While we were getting our food one of the senior level students approached us. He was big boned and had thick skin. His round belly protruded from his ribcage and round hips swayed as he walked.

"Hey. Are you Ethan?" he asked.

I nodded. Snowy was nervous as always.

"I've heard a lot about you recently. That you're like a soap opera, bold and beautiful."

I smiled uncomfortably.

"Sorry," he said, "where are my manners? My name's Celly, Damien's best friend."

I felt that the last part of his introduction was unnecessary. Damien had two best friends. Boo was the other one.

"I'm guessing that you're a Gold member too?"

His smile crept under his large nose.

"Bingo."

Snowy eyed him suspiciously.

"Anyways Ethan. I just wanted to introduce myself to the most talked about guy in school and wish you a safe trip."

I nodded and watched him walk towards the crowd of people sitting by the tables. There was something about Celly...

"I don't trust him."

I glanced at Snowy.

"He just seems kind of creepy."

I sighed.

"Maybe because we don't know him."

It was his turn to nod. We ate our lunch inside at a table near the open windows. Snowy nervously ate, always glancing behind his back to see what the other students were up to. Mr. Buchanan came into the cafeteria with his own packed bag and made the announcement that we were to leave as soon as he was done eating. I thought about the time when my family went long driving to Orlando. My parents packed heavily and wrapped everything in foil. They worried that everything would spoil and didn't know how much food to bring. It was a fifteen-hour drive through the mountain ranges of America. My family talked about the trip for months. Lee showed me pictures from brochures of kids my age enjoying a good time with some of my favorite cartoon characters. When we got there it started to rain. And it never stopped until we left. I decided to not have any expectations for the Spiritual Retreat.

Pierre entered the doors of the cafeteria. Many of his friends and every member of the student government greeted him. They welcomed him loudly and paid no attention to his healing black eye. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses anymore. I was proud of my roommate. He never mentioned our conversation for the last few days but he has also been very friendly and talkative. It was as if he was expressing a subtle freedom. Pierre was talking to his friends and they all pointed to our table. Snowy froze. I told him not to worry. Pierre walked towards our direction with the same casual feline grace that suited his personality. I stood up to greet him. He surprised me by wrapping his long arms around me. I could feel his warm flesh beneath his clothing.

"For the next few days, all I've got are walls to talk to at night."

I laughed as I hugged him back.

"What about our other roommates."

He sighed but it felt like he sniffed my shoulder blade.

"They're boring and very pretentious."

I opened my eyes from behind Pierre and saw the whole cafeteria watching. I blushed. Damien was still sitting on the table. Hands in his football jacket. When our eyes met he quickly looked away.

"Take care of yourself Ethan. And before I forget, you're brother's on the phone."

I laughed. We pulled ourselves from each other and Pierre passed his flip phone. He gracefully placed them and daringly looked me in the eyes. His were grayish-green and I asked him once if other French people had them. He laughed and called me ignorant.

I placed the phone by my ear and said, "Hello?"

"Ethan. Why the hell haven't you called yet?"

I sat on the table and placed my feet on the seats.

"I did. No one was there so I left a message."

I heard him give a sigh of relief.

"Did you pack everything you need? Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, extra pair of underwear..."

"Lee! I got it covered."

"Oh God stop me. I'm starting to sound like mom."

We both laughed. And I guess we both felt memories linger into our minds.

"So how's life at Montega Resort?"

I heard clicking sounds on the other line.

"It's been awesome. While I was doing inventory I found some deficit in the maintenance products that we had. I questioned my superiors about it but they told me that everything was fine. I was still suspicious – you know how I am – so I went to the hotel manager and told her about it. She checks into it. Turns out, there's been illegal activity within the hotel. Some maintenance employees, who know how to work the computer system, stole expensive equipment and sold them to some black market downtown."

"Wow."

"Yeah Ethan. Wow. So the hotel manager congratulates me and tells me that I've won a free dinner with Carlos Montega. The guy wants to congratulate me himself."

My jaw dropped.

"Ethan, you there? Anyways, that's not the only news. I think I got a date with this really hot Hawaiian chick. Her name's Naomi."

I was happy for him. Things are now turning up for my brother who had always deserved more than what he gave. I remembered the time when my mother told him about my sexuality. I was in my room when he came home from school. My mother was sitting in the kitchen waiting for him. I tried listening to what they were talking about. Muffled voices. After several minutes I heard him run up the stairs. He opened my door and looked at me. I thought my brother was going to hit me. Instead he ran up to me and hugged me tightly. Tears were in his eyes as he said, `One word. If anyone says one word to you or about you... I will slaughter them with my bare hands. I promised you a long time ago that I would always protect you, no matter what'. Because of his popularity I never felt ghettoized or different. My mother told me that Lee had always wanted a little brother. He wanted a protégé, someone to follow him around where ever he went and someone to annoy the hell out of him. My parents were at a time in their lives where they too wanted a second child. They tried for months and finally got their wish. It was on the sixth month that the doctor told my family the tragic news. The baby had died inside. They even went into surgery and took the little fetus out of her. At six years old, Lee cried with our mother for days. A week later, my mom had to get some tests done. When the nurse asked her what she was in for, my mother told her that she had a miscarriage. The nurse looked confused and said that wasn't possible. She showed her the tests and said that there was a little six-month old fetus still thriving within her. When my parents told Lee, his eyes were wide open. A miracle. He had prayed for days and God actually answered them, but how? My mother never told him that she would of given birth to twins. It was still a miracle.

"I think my teacher is calling us out now. Anyways good luck with the date and that dinner with the millionaire."

"Don't do anything stupid. And remember to have fun. I'll be there when you get back from wherever the hell you're going."

The social ethics class was severely disappointed. They moaned and complained about the conditions they were put under. Mr. Buchanan kept quiet as he drove an old beaten school bus. To this group of people, a school bus was one of the greatest insults a student attending Montega Academy could suffer. They were appalled that they had no room to place their bags except for their laps. The lack of air conditioning was unspeakable. They even had to manually open a window to enjoy the island breeze. I sat quietly and chuckled in my head as Mr. Buchanan drove on The Pali Highway. We passed by a place called the Nu'uana Pali. From here we could see the communities of Windward Oahu, the sparkling sweep of Kaneohe Bay and the restless surface of the Pacific. The emerald-forested cliffs murmured ancient battles fought long ago, while the humming of traffic settled with the thick air. Looking down at civilization below I could hardly imagine that this island was home to more than 876,000 people and that it carried nearly 5 million visitors a year. Here about 1,200 feet above sea level with 3,000-foot cliffs (pali) rising above you, it is possible to see beyond the city and Waikiki to the other side where bedroom communities like Kaneohe and Kailua thrive and residential neighborhoods gradually give way to the even more sparsely populated villages of the North Shore. To the right, Kailua Bay sits dazzling in the sun, inviting you to her balmy shores. To the left, Kaneohe Bay, floating above a beautiful barrier reef and punctured by four tiny islands, is brushed like a watercolor with the billowing white sails of brightly colored craft.

Time has all but erased the violent history of this spot, once a bloody battlefield where Hawaiian warriors fought for control of the island. More than two centuries ago in the spring of 1795, the King of Oahu, who also ruled Maui, Moloka'i and Lana'i, sought to defeat Kamehameha, ruler of the Island of Hawaii. With the use of newfound firepower acquired from a trading vessel, Kamehamea forced the defenders of Oahu back into Nu'uanu Valley until they reached the Pali. Refusing to surrender, many warriors jumped over the cliff. With the victory, Kamehameha gained significant momentum in his drive to unite the islands, an event that occurred in 1810 when Kaua'i, which had proved unconquerable, finally agreed by treaty. In 1897, more than a century after the Nu'uanu Pali battle, a government contract was awarded to build the first paved road across the mountains. During construction, which required significant blasting, workers found an estimated 800 skulls at the foot of the cliffs, the remains of Hawaiian warriors lost in battle 100 years ago.

While my imagination raced as fast as Mr. Buchanan's driving Eric came to sit beside me. He looked uneasy. His usual wavy hair was damp. Sweat formed on his brow.

"What's up Eric?"

He was quiet. I leaned against the window.

"Promise you won't say anything?"

I closed my eyes and felt the breeze brush hair across my face.

"Of course."

Eric glanced to the back of the bus where the three Gold members laughed at the situation they were put in. The other students of the class laughed with them. Awkwardly. Eric positioned himself so that he could face me.

"I have these stupid friends."

I turned to look at the people at the back.

"Not those friends Ethan. They're different from these guys. They pressure me to do really stupid things."

I nodded, "Do they know how you feel?"

"Nah. They'd probably laugh at me. But anyway, I have a serious problem with one of them. He's done something really stupid and I don't know what to do."

The glass of the window was cool against my skin.

"If he's really your friend, you should talk to him about what he's done and see if there's anything the both of you can do about it."

Eric began to laugh. After a while he sighed.

He shook his head and said, "We'll see."

Eric gave a soft punch to my shoulder as he got up to sit with the sleeping Max. Throughout the ride Max couldn't take his eyes off of Damien. He remained fixated on the senior level Gold member captain of the football team. I wish I had the courage to tell him that it wasn't worth it. But at the same time I wondered if Max's feelings for Damien were genuine. Did Max lust after him because of what he saw deep inside Damien's bravado? Or was he only infatuated with the image that was never really part of the package? My father always said that feelings should be based on something more than a fantasy.

It was two hours before we got to our destination. The cement of land had turned into a dirt road and a group of three men waited for us in a clearing before the entanglement of jungles. Ropes of trees in ever shade of green surrounded us. We got out of the bus with our few belongings. One of the three men got onto our bus and drove it away. He said something in a certain dialect and the other two nodded. Mr. Buchanan began speaking to the other two and then turned to us.

"Ok class. Think of these two men as tour guides. They are going to lead us on a three hour hike to their village."

The class moaned. The two men laughed. They were dressed casually in jeans and long sleeve shirts. They also carried long sharp machetes. The class continued to whine.

In the mountain and valleys beyond the densely scattered mass of Oahu's population, a gentle jungle beckons, waiting to be explored. For those three memorable hours we walked through an intoxicating tangle of tropical forests, sparkling waterfalls that tumbled into gurgling streams, chattering birds and sweet-scented flowers. This was a world primarily accessible only to hikers, a world of secrets tracked only by hiking trails.

One of our Native companions exclaimed, "Accessibility and spectacular terrain are two of the reasons we enjoy hiking the island."

While walking ahead I took a look behind me. Damien had shed his football jacket and was wearing a white tank top, cargo pants, boots and a matching cowboy hat. He seemed ready for the hike ahead and also very determined. His bag was large but he carried it with confidence over his broad and gleaming shoulders. Everyone else was sweaty, tired and thirsty. I lifted the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead. I felt a few eyes trail in the direction of my abdomen. I continued walking in order to catch up to the two Native men. We stopped for a break when we reached a small waterfall.

"Everyone gather round. Bobby please put those headphones away," Mr. Buchanan called us out.

The sounds of birds ruffled the air. We sat around in front of the waterfall to meditate. Our two companions joined us.

Mr. Buchanan started to talk in a low and calming voice, "Close your eyes. Smell what you don't see. Everything is clear."

I could feel the humming sounds of the forest.

"There is no past, no yesterday, no future and no tomorrow. There is only here. There is only now."

I could smell the trees and the sun tan lotion of each individual.

"What you're sitting on is not merely rock and dirt. It is the blood, the bone, and the flesh of ancient warriors that died over and over again. What you're sitting on could be destroyed tomorrow. Can you feel the burning of the fire? The fire that burns beneath lies."

I yearned to open my eyes and see all around me. But I closed them tightly.

"But right here. Right now. It is only you. You are the one sitting on this dirt. You and all of eternity and Mother Nature."

He continued this meditation for the next fifteen minutes. I was surprised that the entire class was quiet. I expected giggles. Laughter. But there was only a sense of peace. Even Joe was enjoying his own serenity. When we continued our hike, there was less complaining and less whining.

The sun was setting when we finally reached our destination. The forest became alive with nocturnal sounds. Fear was rising in our heaving and tired chests.

"Did anyone else feel that?" Joe asked.

"It's just the draft of petrifying anxiety."

No one laughed. We hurriedly followed the two Native men into the woods. They too wanted to reach home before dark. At the edge of the jungle there was a growing light. The smell of firewood crept into our nostrils. Beyond a small cliff laid a humble village scattered with small huts. Beside them was a rushing but gentle river. When we got to the village, the first thing we noticed was the large campfire that nestled in the center of all the huts. Dark skinned people greeted us in their revealing form. They didn't have any clothing except for a piece of linen that covered their privates. Many of the women were topless. And some of the children bared all. We were very shy. These indigenous people offered us fruits and barbecued fish. Mr. Buchanan later told us that they didn't have much but they offered everything that they had. Guest hospitality was important to these Native islanders. After we ate we were told to get a good night's rest as we had a lot to do the following day.

We were given our own hut to sleep in. We were all surprised to find two beds in the hut. The Natives explained that they knew a little about Western tradition and that they were given beds by some grassroots organization for pregnant women in the village. We could use the beds for the time that we were staying here. When they left to talk to our teacher my classmates immediately ran to the two available beds and marked their territory. However, we all noticed that there wasn't enough room for everyone. Damien and the other two Gold members already claimed a bed for their own. Eric and his friends all crowded the other larger bed. Max and I were slow to relax.

"Come on Ethan," Damien called, "Sleep over here with us."

He winked. I turned my head to Max who had his face down, trying to hide in the shadows.

"It's ok Max. Go with them. I'll sleep on the floor."

Everyone looked at me. I yawned and laid out a sleeping bag that I found on the side of the bed. I think the Natives knew that there wasn't enough room for everyone. The social ethics class got ready for bed. I took a bottle of water I had and went outside to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I got back in I immediately peeled off my shirt. My skin was moist and smelled of ashes. They were watching me in silence. They watched me unbutton and pull down my fly. They watched me drop my jeans and neatly placing it by my bag. They only turned their heads when I brushed my hair back and glanced in their direction. My hair was dark in the candlelight but the color of my eyes never faded. I bit my lower lip and scratched the back of my neck. I crept into the sleeping bag and said my goodnights. I closed my eyes and settled into the sleeping bag. After a few seconds someone blew the candle. Darkness. Whispering. I could also hear the sound of the river and noises of the nocturnal beings. I closed my eyes and sleep wrapped its comforting arms around me.

I don't know what time it was but it was dark. The stars could be seen through the small window on my right side. I woke up because I felt something warm and wet on my neck. My back was hurting from the weight that was on top of me. His hands caressed my sides. I let out a soft moan. My fingers explored his muscular back. He too was only in his boxers. He was breathing hard as he licked and kissed my neck. His broad shoulders covered my chest like a warm blanket. His soft skin rubbed against mine. He was grinding against me. His hips moved in-between my open legs. He was biting my collarbone. My fingers were moving lower. Was I dreaming? He was breathing harder. Faster. His large left hand grabbed my waist and cupped my buttocks. He was pulling my underwear down. I finally knew what was happening. I tried pushing away from him. I tried signaling him to stop. His mouth kept gnawing at my neck.

"Damien. Please stop," I whispered.

He continued as his large hardness grinded against my thigh.

"Damien. Please."

He stopped. He was still on top of me. Breathing hard. He was looking into my eyes. I could still make out the shade of brown in his. His left hand left my underwear and came to sweep the hair over my forehead. His fingers slid down my cheek.

"Who are you Ethan Jackman?" He asked softly.

"And why weren't there guys like you while I was growing up?"

He rolled beside me and let out sigh. I moved closer to him and leaned my head against his large chest. He lifted the sleeping bag to cover us and placed his arm around me. I closed my eyes only to feel a small kiss on my forehead.

When I woke up the orange sun was creeping over the horizon. There was no one beside me. I figured that it really was a dream. My father once told me that inappropriate dreams were something that all people had. He said that sometimes they don't mean anything but shallow desires that our minds denied us but that our bodies wanted. I got up to stretch when I noticed that half of the class had left the hut. Joe walking inside startled me.

"Sorry. I had to take a leak."

He was staring at my body again. Joe came closer. I felt uncomfortable.

"Hey Ethan, is that a hickey on your neck?"


On to Chapter Five

Back to Chapter Three

Chapter Index

Email the Author (ube_licker@hotmail.com)

Ube Licker Home Page

Tarheel Writer Home Page