UNDER THE CHERRY TREE
By
Rev. Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, DMin
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters and situations are purely imaginary. Any resemblence to any living persion is coincidental. This story is primarily a romance but does contain some scenes of explicit sex, primarily homosexual but not exclusively.
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FOUR
It was past mid morning when Cass punched me awake. Groggily, I woke up, yawning and stretching. He was in boxers and shirtless, his sublimely muscled torso on display. Ashley was in a pair of bikini panties and thin T shirt. Her nipples were clearly visible. I sat up and could hear the sound of someone peeing. I realized that I needed to as well but I also realized I was fully erect. I was too embarrassed to uncover.
Xander came out of the bathroom, his short blond hair all askew. He was in boxer briefs which highlighted his privates. "Got any pop tarts?"
Cass pointed to cabinet. He was making coffee as he did it. Xander got two packs of Pop Tarts and came over the couch and flung one pack my way. He ripped it open and began to greedily shove one in his mouth.
"Did you eat anything last night, Dude?" Dex asked as he emerged from the bedroom by way of another door on the other end of the room.
"Not much. Ended up puking it up anyway."
"What were you on anyway" Ashley asked him as she walked over with two cups of coffee. She handed one to me. It was black, which is not the way I like it when I drink coffee but I didn't say anything.
"2 CB"
"I want some next time you get some." Ashley said, tilting her head up, talking to Cass.
"Don't look at me. That was X's stash. Leftover from Burning man. "
"I want to try it some time." she said
"It's fun," Xander said, taking a big bite off the second Pop Tart. I wasn't even half way done with the first. "Best party drug of the 2 C's, by far."
"There any Pop Tart's left?" Dex asked.
Cass threw a pack all the way across the room. "Where the fuck is Dante?"
"Had to go home to momma" Dex said. "He thinks he's on the down low but momma's the only one fooled. Didn't you have to go tend to the brat today?"
"Yeah," Xander said, reaching down to scratch his nuts. "It's a pain in the ass. Shit. What time is it?"
"Almost 11"
"Fuck. I need to get my ass in gear. Come on, Dylan, I'll take you back to the dorm. I got shit to do."
I dressed hurriedly and we were in his jeep in just a few minutes. I am beginning to realize that whenever Xander decides to do something, he dives right into it right then. When we got back to brick lined street, he turned left and then at an intersection right. It was street that wrapped around a hill and had a line of old townhouses one side and a huge antebellum mansion on the other. As the street turned 90 degrees, he stopped. The mansion, a large house with columns all around stood off to our right and above us. To the left, you could the whole downtown from our vantage point on the hill.
Xander turned to me and smiled. "Best view in the city. This is a perfect place to trip, by the way. As long as you don't get arrested. I want to show you something."
He sped off, past the Law School. Turning on the street that heads back to the Post Office, he pulled over as we got even to the Law School again.
"See that house?" He asked, pointed at a two story red brick house, not big but with a gabled roof. It looked vaguely French. "It's my favorite house anywhere. That is the coolest house in town. It's Second Empire. You can tell from the mansard roof. It's pretty uncommon in the South. Only one in Macon. There's a bigger Second Empire house in Savannah, on one of the squares. I don't remember which one – Barnard, Chatham – I could find it. But I like this house better. It's beautiful but it's tucked away. Like a hidden treasure. You could just drive by and miss it if you weren't looking. But there it is – perfect."
I knew enough not to say anything. I didn't know why he wanted to show me this one particular house but I suspected that he may not have ever told anybody else that he liked it. It was like a window on his soul, but I wasn't sure what it meant. I was feeling pretty blank, washed out. Perhaps this feeling is what people talk about when they talk about a hangover, I remember thinking. Xander didn't linger and explain himself because he was in a hurry. In just a few minutes, we were pulling into the parking lot behind Reade and he was letting me out. Without a lot of emotion he told me that he would see me tomorrow and then he sped off again.
Erica was in the room with Robbie when I got there. They were laughing and acting silly in that first flush of romance sort of way. I think my mood brought them down, though. I was feeling pretty lost at that point. I had never thought I would be around a drug deal or would get high. That's not how I pictured myself but I had. And to tell the truth, I had enjoyed it a little. A boy had kissed me. It was sort of overwhelming.
"Where'd you crash last night?" Robbie asked, enveloping Erica who was half lying on the bed and leaning on his shoulder.
"With some friends of Xander's. Those guys that helped him move in."
"Cass?" Erica asked.
"Yeah" I answered, trying to gather up some clothes so I could go shower. I felt really dirty at the point and wanted to left alone to think.
"You looked pretty wasted last night," Robbie said.
"Yeah, I guess I was"
"Um, so Dylan, how much do you know about Xander?" Erica asked me as she sat up on the bed.
I sat down in my desk chair, resigned to not being able to just get some stuff and leave. I put my head down, "Not much, I guess. I know you two went out for a while."
"Yeah and he cheated on me. People tried to warn me about him but I didn't listen. But they were right. I think you ought to be careful, that's all. He parties a lot. Him and Cass and Dex are into drugs pretty deep. He does acid all the time, mushrooms and stuff you never even heard of. It's only a matter of time before they all get arrested. Or go crazy."
"Are you saying he's a drug dealer?"
"He always said he wasn't and I never saw him sell any. Cass and Dex are though. The way I hear it is that Dex used to sell ditch weed and bad E but then he became the guy you went to for high quality stuff. When he came here, his little brother Cass took up the business. Supposedly Xander's dad is some sort of big pot farmer. But like I said, he always said he wasn't dealing and I don't have any proof he is. I was so pissed at him if I did, I would have gone to the cops."
"Yeah, okay. I get it," I said, still looking at the floor. I didn't know the details, particularly that his dad was a drug dealer, but I knew the general outline.
"Man, there's more" Robbie said. "You know, it's none of my business or anything, but he's basically trying to get into your pants. He's bisexual."
"What do you mean `it's none of your business'? Are you saying I'm gay?" I shot back.
"No, I'm just saying that he's that way," Robbie stammered. "And it's just that, you know, I've never seen you with a girl. And if you are, it doesn't change anything. We're still friends."
"Well, I'm straight"
"I'm just saying"
"You're just wrong," I said a little too loudly. I stood up and grabbed some clothes. "I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to the library to study. You can have the room for a while."
When I got through showering, she was still there. Erica tried to say something but Robbie motioned for her not too. I was just embarrassed mostly, and a little angry, but didn't really want to be around them just then. I got my stuff and headed for the library. I ended up spending hours in the library, finishing up a paper for FYS, reading chapters, getting ahead on school work. It felt good. It was a relief to have my mind occupied with other things for a while my subconscious processed everything. It was almost dusk when I got tired of that and headed over to the UC food court to get something to eat. I sat by myself in the corner of the food court patio and ate, partly because I wanted to be alone and partly because I didn't know anybody.
Going back to the dorm, I wasn't real eager to go back to my room and face Robbie and his doubts about me. I stopped by Carter's room because I did want to talk to him. There was something totally unrelated to Xander that was troubling me and I thought Carter was the person to talk to. In our Christianity class, the professor was teaching about the "documentary hypothesis," which says that the first five books of the Bible were written by 4 anonymous authors (and none of them Moses, like I was taught), called J, E, D, P. At some point, these four narratives, and differing views on God, were combined into one by an anonymous, long forgotten editor or redactor. The first part of what we were studying was the two creation stories, one supposedly from J and the other from E. I shouldn't have been surprised that Carter rejected it entirely. To him, the Bible is inerrant and when Jesus said they were the books of Moses that meant Moses wrote them. Part of the reason I wanted to talk to him was to hear that point of view but once I did I realized how hollow it was. All he had were rationalizations that ignored the fact that there are actually two different creation stories, and a lot else, and they are different.
As soon as I realized that Carter had no better answer to deal with my broken belief than I did, a sense of having been told one thing my whole life only to discover it wasn't really true, I wanted the conversation to end. As Carter continued to expound away in a pretty fruitless way, I flipped though the stack of prints in cheap plastic frames that was leaning against Xander's desk, which was strewn with art supplies.
"These Xander's?" I asked. Carter said they were and were things that he had done himself before launching back to whatever point he was trying to make before I interrupted. I looked at each one, flipping to the next, ignoring Carter. A couple were bold and vibrant while a couple others were haunting and dark. "These are really good."
"If you say so"
"They are. I guess he's a pretty serious art student, after all."
"The only thing he is serious about is his own carnal desires."
"So, what's going on about the new roommate situation" I asked him.
"Residence Life says we have to try to work it out. My father is going to call the Dean of Students Monday. He says that he should have never accepted here in the first place. Of course, I told him that he's probably going to flunk out before the semester is over anyway."
"Probably," I agreed. It did seem likely given how tough the workload was. Maybe the art school was different, though. But we moved on to other topics and Carter invited me to go to church with him tomorrow. Once I did, I actually felt a little peace. Going to church was comfortable for me, having done it my whole life. I understood that world. It was familiar. Plus, it seemed as if I had made decision about my future direction, at least for now. I had backslid for one night but now I was returning to the fold without any real harm done. It felt good.
In reality, it wasn't helpful. We went on the church van to the big gray stone church that I had passed by in the early hours of Saturday. Back home, our church was small and plain. A country church. Everybody knew each other intimately and everybody had a role and a place. This church was big and ornate. It felt soulless to me. They had an almost professional quality choir and professional lighting and audiovisual equipment. But it seemed like all you were expected to do was to go and be entertained. The preacher, a friend of Carter's father he told me, was fundamentalist and the sermon forceful and uncompromising. But it left me completely unmoved. About halfway through, I blanked out. I knew from that one service that I wouldn't be back.
I was unlocking my door, dressed in my Sunday best slacks and blazer, and Carter his when Xander came through the stairwell door. Seeing me, he jerked his head in greeting. A little while later, a knock came at our door. Robbie opened it and it was Xander.
"Hey, man. I just wanted to find out how it went with Erica."
"Great. Thanks"
"Seeing her again?"
"Yeah, we're going to a movie later on."
Xander nodded. "Okay, well cool."
"You know she had some things to say about you."
"Yeah, I knew she would. And I probably deserve all of it, at least from her perspective," he said, shrugging. "I could bullshit you and say that it was because she was more serious about it than I was. That's true but still. I didn't mean to hurt her but I did. I can't even pretend she's a psycho bitch because she isn't. I think she probably told you that I party a lot, which is true, and that I've had sex with guys. That's true too."
Robbie stared at him for a long minute. "I can respect that. But the thing is that I don't really care what you did when you were with her because that's in the past. If you blew it, that's your problem. I don't like you hanging around with Dylan. He's not that kind of guy."
Xander stepped a little closer to him. "And that's none of your fucking business."
"He's too nice a guy to tell you to go fuck yourself. So I will. It makes me sick that the only reason you're interested in him is so you can fuck him."
"As far as I know, he's straight. But who I want to fuck or don't want to fuck is still none of your fucking business. And just because I suck dick doesn't mean I can't kick ass. Is there anything you want to say about this, Dylan?"
"I can pick my own friends."
Xander shrugged. So did Robbie. They were leaving it there. I was glad. After Xander left, Robbie told me that what he thought but that it was my life. Grudgingly, he admitted that Xander not trashing her and basically owning up to the truth was more than he expected. The fact that he stood up to Robbie, who is physically intimidating, was more than I expected.
I just stayed in the room after Robbie left to take Erica to a movie, reading ahead. I was beginning to get a little hungry when someone knocked on my door. It was Xander, dressed in lacrosse gear. "Where's Neanderthal man?" he asked.
I told him that they had gone to a movie and he suggested we go eat, which was cool with me. I waited for him as he showered from his lacrosse practice. When he came back, he was dressed in a pair of Dickey's painter's pants, complete with paint in various colors, and a T shirt that had "HATE" at the top that morphed through several lines to read "LOVE". I was still in a button down and khaki's. I thought in a vague way that we would go to the UC but he suggested Denny's because of my supposed love of pork products.
The place wasn't as empty as I thought it would be when we got there. He joked a bit with the waitress and we ordered but I could tell that he had something he wanted to say.
"I just wanted to apologize for the other night, if I made you uncomfortable. I just totally misread the situation and I'm sorry. "
"You don't have anything to apologize for. I had a good time."
He paused and thought about his words. "I guess I didn't realize that you were ... religious, I guess. I felt bad when I saw coming back from church today."
I just ignored that for the moment. "How are things going with you and Carter?"
Xander shook his head. "That's minor. It's nothing. But you know Erica is actually right. I'm not always the best influence on people. You'd probably be better off if we weren't friends."
"You know, no offense, but I'm getting a little tired of people trying to protect me, like they know what I should do or think or be friends with. How can somebody else know these things when I don't know? It's insulting. I don't know that we are friends, not yet anyway. I like you. I had fun. It's a journey, kind of an amazing journey. I don't know if I'm going in the right direction or if all the turns are right, but I want to find those things out for myself. I don't need anybody's influence for me to decide for myself."
"Okay," he smiled. "Got that off your chest?"
"Yes, I did. Felt good."
"Okay," he said as our order arrived. I got the Grand Slam breakfast. He got pancakes. "So how was church?"
So I told him all about it, about empty it was spiritually and how increasingly, and not just since coming to college, I felt more and more alienated from the actual beliefs that I was supposed to have. The thing that had kept me going at home was the culture of it and the socializing. My friends were there and it was the heart of the community. Here is just another mass of people I don't know, believing and practicing things that I am increasingly unsure about. By the time I had stopped talking, he was almost done with his pancakes. Sheepishly, I asked him if I had bored him.
He shook his head. "No. I was just thinking how eventually everybody has to think about the big questions. You and me just come at it totally differently. I was raised Buddhist, for instance. I think maybe what you were taught as a kid gives you the structure to react against."
"I guess. Do you mind if I ask you a question? How is it that you know everybody here? We're both just freshman."
He smiled. "I don't know everybody. Mostly I know the people that party hard. I've been coming down here to party some for a couple of years. Cass and Dex were my stepbrothers, sort of, for a while and we've always been friends. Plus, I was invited to leave a couple of high schools so I know people from a couple of schools. There is a big Atlanta connection here. Stratford and Mont De Sales locally and Atlanta kids are the majority."
"And our TA from FYS, Reed?"
"He and Dex used to date."
"I didn't know he was gay," I said.
"He is"
"Wow. I bet Carter's dad would have a stroke if he knew there were gay people at Willingham. By the way, I saw your poster's yesterday when I was talking with Carter. They're good. Why don't you hang them up?"
He laughed. "I don't know. I might. Then again, it's probably not worth the fight."
"Well, I think they're good."
"Thanks," he said. "You know, the reason people want to protect you is because you're special. You only protect valuable stuff. You know the day we moved in? Your mom was so proud of you and you were so embarrassed. Kind of funny, really. If I were a National Merit finalist, I'd have a big medal that I wore everywhere and T shirt that says `shut the fuck up, I'm smarter than you'. I googled you, by the way. Your hometown paper's on the web. STAR student, Governor's Honors, Duke TIP program, nearly perfect SAT's, valedictorian, Presidential Scholar. You hit them all. So, there are a lot of people that feel like they have an interest in you not fucking up."
I hung my head down. It was embarrassing. "Maybe I all ready am"
"Nope," he said. "You're not. Fucking up is something I know about. I just think that it must be really... I don't, heavy ... carrying around everybody's expectations. I think you might need a friend that doesn't expect you to be anything. What interests me about you is that you're interesting. Well, there is a physical attraction, but I don't guess we're going there."
"No," I said. "We're not."