Part 07

Note: All Thai words and phrases have been spelled so that readers may pronounce them
correctly. Other transliteration methods may vary.

*************

As the bedroom door shut behind them, James was struck with wonder. Nobody had ever been
inside this room except his parents and, occasionally, his sister!

But that fact wasn't what caught him up short. The amazement came because he realized that it
had always felt normal like that.

Nobody's ever been in this room, and I used to think there wasn't anything weird about it...

James blinked. Which was the only thing that visibly happened, on the outside.

Sakjai looked around his new friend's room. He saw that it really WAS somebody's room. It
had a personal stamp on it; it looked lived in. He was happy for James. At the same time, it
reinforced the fact that he was now living in a guestroom at his auntie's house. That was totally
different from feeling like he had his own room there. Being in James's room made him more
aware of that, and he was saddened by the thought. He blinked as well.

That's all that happened visibly, on the outside.

James and Sakjai each realized at the same time that they were just standing there, next to each
other, holding hands and bookbag and drinks. Together on the brink of the room...

James forced himself into activity, and tried to be the good host, slinging the backpack over to
the floor on the left, away from the double bed.

"Welcome to my wacky world!" he said, trying to sound jolly.

"Par-don?" enquired Sakjai, in that wonderful way he had of splitting that word into two parts,
and cocking his head a little in James's direction.

"I mean, welcome to my room. What do ya think?" James pointed things out, going clockwise
from where they stood.

Before Sakjai had a chance to think about an answer, James launched a verbal barrage of
anxiety!

"That's the closet, it's not a hong-nahm, sorry `bout that. Oh, I told you that before, huh? Under
the window, there's my desk, and I'm gonna start throwing out all the papers from this school
year as fast as I can! I'm supposed to be getting a computer for my birthday. Can't wait for that!
It's not far off now!"

"Then there's the stereo. I've gotta pretty good CD player an it's gotta radio an a cassette deck.

"Do ya like Sony? I do! And there's the TV, it's gotta remote and all, from my parents when
they got a new one last year. Even got the old VCR, too, cool, huh? That window over that side
has the best view to the street, but I don't think I ever saw anybody cool walk by, though. And
here's the bed. They got me a big one cuz I roll around a lot in my sleep. And here's....."

He looked up, and next to him, Sakjai was smiling at him. Smiling out of confusion, based on a
major Thai rule of thumb. If confused, smile. If you smile and wait, hopefully something will
happen to resolve the confusion.

When the shorter youth looked up at him, Sakjai tightened his grip on James's hand.

"What?" James asked.

"You speak so fastly, James. I like listening to you. You have a beautiful voice. But could you
perhaps speak more slowly, please? And should I answer your questions now?"

"I got a beautiful voice? Waddaya mean?" James had heard just the one part of Sakjai's
message.

"May I put these drinks on your---desk--- I think? My hand is so cold now."

"Uh, sure, Sakjai, put them on the desk, OK?."

For the first time, Sakjai made as if to move away from James of his own volition, moving
naturally towards the desk, until he came to the end of his tether. Then he looked back and
down, at the two outstretched arms, which were still joined by the hands between them.

"Errr. I am still holding on!" And he stopped moving. He maintained the contact, but moved no
further toward the desk.

James said, "Yup, you've been holding on there pretty good, bud. Here I come, too..." and they
stepped in tandem to the desk, 5 more paces from where they had been.

Sakjai released James's hand, but leaned into him with his whole right side, so they were still
connected. And he finally got to put the cold can of Coke and the Perrier bottle down on the
desk. He then straightened up and turning slightly, smiled again at James, and said:

"May I get you your drink, sir?" in a pretty good imitation of a bartender's voice.

"Yeah, sure Mister! Am I old enough to drink in this place?" Grinning himself.

Sakjai picked up the Coke can and pulled the tab on the top. The swishing pop was familiar to
both of them, and gave them each something neutral to focus on for a brief moment. Sakjai
handed the can to James with a small flourish.

"Oh, yes sir, in my country, you can drink anything you want, wherever you like. As long as you
can pay. 100 Baht, please, sir..." and held out his hand.

James took the open Coke, replying, "You can really get drinks in bars in Thailand, even if
you're a kid like us?"

"Sure, no problem, really. You can buy in stores, in bars, in restaurants, anywhere. In expensive
restaurants, young people may drink wine, everything. Up to you.!" He picked up his own
drink, twisting the cap off the Perrier, and lifting it towards his lips. And paused, smiling. He
lowered the bottle a bit, gesturing toward the Coke can in James's hand.

"Choke dee, na krap!"

James lifted his can reflexively, and the two containers clicked together in a toast.

"What's choke dee, and how much is 100 ba---what was that word?"

"Baht. Thai Baht. Money in my country. 100 baht is a little bit less than... (pausing to calculate
in his head) ...$3.00." Then he lifted his bottle again, bobbing it in James's direction.

"Choke dee means `Good luck'!" and began gulping down the sparkling liquid. James lifted his
Coke again and took a swig, too. Then watched in amazement as Sakjai drained the entire bottle
all at once, pouring it down his throat in big gulping swallows.

The Thai lad lowered the now empty bottle, drawing in a deep breath, and sighed it out again
with contentment.

"Oh, that was good. Thank you, James."

"Wow! You're thirsty, huh? Wanna have another? That'll be 3 bucks, tho. 3 bucks, for one
drink? This is sure an expensive place ya got here, Mister!" Grinning, but eager to please as
well.

"No, thank you James, that was perfect. Perhaps I may have a little of your Coke if I need more
later..." And placed the empty bottle carefully next to the cap on the desk.

Then he walked toward the bed, grabbing James's elbow as he moved. James followed, of
course! He was thinking ..

.... that's my bed he's sitting down on. Nobody's ever been on this bed but me!

As Sakjai sat down on the side of the bed, he pulled James down with him. They turned their
bodies a bit, until they faced each other, re-establishing the connected lap they'd used on the
sidewalk, such a short time before. They just sat there for a moment, looking at each other.

James took a gulp of his Coke, feeling self-conscious again with nothing immediate coming to
mind to say. His first thought had been to ask if Sakjai liked the bed, but then he cringed
internally and censored himself. Instead, he settled on offering the Coke to Sakjai. Who just
nodded slowly in the negative, still just watching James quietly.

"What?" James noticed he was asking that question a lot recently. Kind of like a parrot. He
also realized right then that he wasn't used to being quiet with somebody. He usually tried to fill
up any conversational lags with words and more words.

Then the Thai boy spoke.

"I have a something for you, James."

"Really? What?" The parrot squawks again...

Reaching down into his back pocket, Sakjai withdrew a new-looking wallet, very nice brown
leather. Breaking the contact of their handhold briefly, he opened it, and withdrew a red
banknote, and offered it to James.

"It's a 100 baht note! To pay for my wonderful cold drink, sir..."

"You don't have ta pay, Sakjai, I was just..."

Sakjai grinned, and said, "I know. It was a good joke, chai mai? But I want to give you this,
really. A souvenir of today, making new friends. Yes?"

James reached out, taking the money from Sakjai's slender fingers, touching them slightly as he
did so. He stuck the Coke can in the natural hollow between his knee and the calf of Sakjai's
leg, between them, so it wouldn't tip over and spill. He examined the note.

"I never saw red money before. This is sooo cool!" Looking down at the note, he saw a crisp
red and white bill, a bit smaller than the $1 notes he was used to. In the center right, there was a
large portrait of a distinguished middle-aged man, all gold leaf on the high collar of his military
looking jacket. He had a very slight smile, large square eyeglasses, and an intelligent looking
high forehead. James had never seen anybody famous on money or stamps or anything like that,
wearing eyeglasses. Wow!

The number 100 was prominent in the upper right corner, and a funny squiggle that looked a lot
like a nine followed by a double "0" on the bottom let side. There was a crest, looking like a
dinner plate with a radio tower on it. The tower had a beacon of light shining orange beams out
and downward. The upper left corner of the banknote had an emblem that looked like a stylized
bird, wing tips pointing upwards.

James turned the note over, and saw a picture of two extremely imposing looking men from
history, one seated on an enormous throne, and the other, tall and erect, standing to the right. He
had one hand resting on the hilt of a sword scabbard at his side. James saw several compellingly
beautiful designs. One was of that same fierce bird, another was of school children in uniforms,
walking together, as if going somewhere. In another part of the note, there were three monks
with topknots; one of them playing a musical instrument that looked a little like a xylophone.

Figures from a world he never knew existed, similar to what he imagined from his science fiction
books, maybe. And the squiggly writing, of course, all over it. There was also a large blank
white spot, on the same area of both sides of the note.

Sakjai took James's hands in his own, encouraging him to hold the note toward the well-lit
window opposite. Once James got used to the pleasant tingling of having his hands cupped in
Sakjai's, he saw that a holograph of the dignified man in glasses shining out of the white space,
sort of floating there.

He had seen nothing quite like this in his life.

The boys lowered their hands together, the note now again in James's, on `their' lap.

"Our money is so boring, compared to this! Who are these men?"

"This one is my King. His name is Rama the Great. He is number nine of that name. He is the
oldest living king or queen now ruling anyplace on the Earth. He is even more old than the
Queen of England! The other two men, on this side (turning the note over and showing James as
he spoke) are Rama the Fourth and his son, Rama number Five. They are very great men in Thai
history."

He sounded proud as he spoke about the ruling family of Thailand. Much more self-assured than
he'd sounded about himself.

"Can I really keep this, Sakjai? It's amazing! I love it!"

"I already told you, James. I give it to you. From my heart. To my only friend in America."

The boys fell silent for a moment. They were both looking at the banknote. It was something
neutral, and helped them each feel less intensely alone with the other. Neither boy was used to
this kind of sustained contact with another person.

James fell back on the topic of the Coke. He carefully placed the Thai money on the narrow
bookshelf resting on brackets above the bed. Taking a drink of the Coke, he again offered it to
Sakjai, who this time accepted. The Thai boy drained the can. James took it and put it on the
floor beside the bed.

Then James looked up, and said, "Sakjai, do ya mind if I ask you a question?"

"No James, na-nohn, of course! Please ask me what you like." He tilted his head, which was a
habit for the Thai youth when he was listening intently. James noticed that he was getting to like
this trait. He found it endearing, although he wouldn't have used that kind of language for it, of
course.

"Ummm, like, what happened to you on the sidewalk just now? When ya fainted, I mean?"

Sakjai looked down at the colorful bedspread. He was thinking about his reply and how to
phrase it with the English he knew. But he was also at the same time trying to edit his response,
because he wasn't sure he understood all that had happened himself. He had also decided that
he wasn't going to tell the whole truth. Even about the parts he did understand.

"I am not sure about my fainted, er. fainting before. I do not have remember about
everything."

"But, man, you must remember something about it? Right? You're not getting amnesia, are ya?
I mean, ummm." James was in the midst of realizing that the medical term might not be part of
the Thai boy's vocabulary.

"Lemme start again, sorry. Um, do you really forget everything, man? You were walking
along, pretty slow, and then you stopped movin. And then ya ummm." he wound down, seeing
that Sakjai was looking unsettled now.

"Ya don't gotta talk about it now, if ya don't want to, Ok, Sakjai. I just want to be sure
about.ummm.. that you're gonna be OK, that's all, ya know.?"

"Yes, James, I understand." The voice was soft and serious again, with none of the light-hearted
bantering quality that it had before.

"James. I will try to answer you. I want to tell you some things about myself. But I am not sure
what to say. I am, err. I think I am sad."

James thought about that for a second or two. Sad? How can being sad make a guy faint or
something? He'd have to ask his Mom about that later, maybe. Having a nurse who works for a
bunch of shrinks might be useful in the family after all.

"Sad? What are you sad about, Sakjai? Are you homesick for your country? Or maybe ya miss
your Mom?"

The Thai youth sighed softly, wondering how he could possibly begin to explain. If he said too
much, this wonderful American boy would not want to remain his friend, he was sure. If he said
too little, then he risked boring James. The same result loomed suddenly in front of him. He
would be alone again, without a friend. He kept looking down at the bed they were sitting on.
Tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes. He found himself unable to speak at all.

"Sakjai, buddy?" James's voice was tender all of a sudden. It didn't sound anxious, it didn't
rush to fill the silence with an avalanche of words. The solidly built American youth lifted the
hand that had been resting on his own lap, and raised it to Sakjai's face.

It's astonishing that James had the nerve to actually be able to put into physical action his heart's
desire. But he did. He simply touched Sakjai's chin with the tips of his fingers, and gently
raised the Thai boy's head a bit, so he could see Sakjai's eyes.

"Sakjai, are ya sad right now?"

As Sakjai responded to James's touch by lifting his eyes from the bed, he saw James's face
anew. He saw the concern, and the wish to listen to him, and the urge in the American boy's
eyes to help him. To actually want to hear anything from him. He was far from the point where
he would take that well-meaning intention for granted. It had hardly ever happened to him
before. But somehow, he believed what he saw. He'd believed it when he was on the edge of
the abyss before, and he believed it now. And he was on the verge of revealing more of himself
than he'd ever done with anybody in his life. The tears continued to trickle, but Sakjai was able
to respond.

"James, I am always sad. I do not remember a time when I was not like this. I am not a happy
person, like you. I think maybe you may not want me for your new friend now." He took a
deep breath and began to disentangle the hand that was holding James's. He wanted to be at
least this honest, and he believed that James was concerned. But Sakjai's imagination was
limited by previous experience of other people's interest in him. How could this wonderful
American really want a friend who is never happy? This was not possible, certainly. Better
prepare to attempt a dignified exit, if he could.

What was happening here, James wondered? He was alarmed at once. This beautiful Thai boy,
his new friend, was thinking about leaving? He was gonna have to break away from this
amazing bodily contact? NO! This can't happen, now. Not when he was beginning to think that
finally he was going to have a friend, somebody to talk to, somebody to care about, somebody
who might even like him a little.

"What? What do ya mean? Of course I want you for my friend! I get sad too, Sakjai, I'm not
all that happy myself, ya know! Please, don't."

James renewed his grasp on Sakjai's hand with both of his own.

So Sakjai stopped trying to remove his hand from James's. But he heard the alarm in the
American's voice, and it got his attention. He looked back up at James.

"I need." "I want." "I." both boys were trying to speak at the same time, stumbling over
each other. The pain was there to be plainly heard, each by the other.

The two boys were now hugging each other. Partly to hold on so the other wouldn't let go,
partly to re-assure themselves that they weren't alone. They crumpled into each other's arms,
and all at once they were both prone on the bed, all jumbled together, arms and legs entwined,
hugging each other tightly for all they were worth. Each was, at that moment, a life preserver for
the other, as they tossed about on a sea of emotions.

Sakjai had his face buried in James's shoulder, tears wetting the tee shirt. James spoke into the
ear that was right there, so close to his lips he could have just reached out a little and kissed it.
But he wasn't thinking about that now.

"I don't give a shit if you're sad, Sakjai, I really don't care at all. For myself I mean. I need a
friend, just like you do. You were just gonna leave now, cuz you're sad??"

"I don't want to leave." Sakjai's voice was muffled due to the position he was in. The two teens
gently re-arranged themselves so they were lying side by side in the middle of the bed. They
were facing each other on their sides, one of James's arms supporting Sakjai's head, now part of
the pillows. James's other arm was hugging the Thai boy close to him, and Sakjai was hugging
James, as well. There was a bit of space between them above their waists, so they could look at
each other comfortably now. But their legs were still entwined like a pretzel. They would have
to think about it consciously in order to disentangle those limbs!

James asked, "If ya don't wanna go, why were you starting to?" His voice was soft, worried.

"I said already, James... Maybe you don't like a sad person. I will try and not be sad for you."

"But, didn't ya hear me, dude? I know you're sad, you told me already. I'm not a happy person
a lot of the time either, ya know. Not before I met you, at least..." He cringed inside as he said
that, but he hadn't thought about what he was going to say. It came out unedited and
uncensored, not his usual self for sure! But he didn't allow his worry to interrupt this moment.
He rubbed Sakjai's back as he finished speaking.

There was a brief silence. But there was a lot of thinking going on in that room!

"James, may I ask you a question, also?"

"Ummm... yeah, sure, I guess..." James's body tightened up a bit, as if readying itself for a blow
of some kind.

"James, do you like me?"

(Oh, God! What do I say, what do I say...) But on the outside, the only thing different was that
James had shifted his gaze from Sakjai's eyes up to the wall behind where they lay.

"James...?" Sakjai's hug tightened, the youth somehow trying to will the American boy to
answer him, to bring his focus back. He was hoping that James would say yes of course, but was
surprised at himself for hoping that it could really be true.

James responded to the tightened grip of Sakjai's arms around his body, and forced himself to
bring his eyes back to Sakjai's.

(I'm gonna tell him, I think I'm really gonna tell him, OK, here goes...)

"Sakjai, I do like you. I really like you a lot." He was going to try and explain, to speak more,
to ward off any bad response with continued speech. But he didn't do any of that. He just
blinked once and kept his gaze steady into Sakjai's eyes. (What's he gonna say, what's he
gonna do, he's not moving away, he's not laughing at me, he's...)

"James, why do you like me?"

James blinked again. Once. (Oh shit, he knows I'm gay, he thinks I wanna rip his clothes off,
well I do! But, he's not gonna want that, he's gonna think I'm a perv, he's gonna...I dunno,
think, think fast! Gotta say something quick...)

"Um. I like you because we're friends, man. Remember, we said? `Puen-gahn', chai mai?"

"Yes, James, I remember that. But why? Why are we friends now already?"

"Sakjai, I don't know why. Really I don't. But I do like you. I want you to like me. I liked
you already. Way before today, I mean..."

"Really? I don't understand."

"When you came into the class, last month. I liked you then. And your house is near here, I
saw you walking home sometimes. You don't take the bus, either. So I noticed you already."

"But, James, you must see many people everyday. Many people live near this place. There are
many students in your ---our--- classes at the school. You must notice many people, chai mai?"

"Chai..." James responded correctly without thinking, just as he had so readily remembered the
Thai word for friendship just a moment before.

"Sakjai, I do...notice...lots of people. You're right. I see them, I watch them. But I don't talk
to many of them, they don't know me. I don't have friends like you said before. I just look at
things. I watched you, too."

"But James, you are telling to me that you don't have friends? I think sure, you must have
friends..."

"Nope. No friends. Only you, if you still want to, I mean."

Sakjai looked thoughtful, now. He was almost thinking out loud now. "James, you have no
friends. I have no friends in America. I have---had---few friends even in Thailand before. You
tell to me before that you are sad also? Yes?"

"Yes" It was unusual, but James simply answered another question, un-self-consciously,
honestly, and openly.

"Are you sad because you have no friends, James?"

"Yes. Well, that and a few other reasons, too..."

"Why, James?" The Thai boy wasn't grilling him, James could tell that. He was just interested,
and genuinely wanted to know.

"Umm...well, I'm not very good at things like sports. I hate gym class; I can't really do any of
that stuff. So the jocks don't care if I'm alive."

Sakjai looked puzzled. James thought fast, and realized what the problem was. "Jocks, you
know, jocks are the people who are really into athletics and sports and games and shit like that."

Sakjai understood now. So James continued. "I'm not very smart, so the really good students
don't talk to me either. I mostly just read books, here in my room, by myself..."

"James, you are alone in your room a lot?"

"Yup. Just me, myself, and I."

"So we are both alone."

"Uh-huh."

"But we are not alone, now, chai mai?" He looked carefully at James, wondering what the
response would be to that. The Thai youth couldn't help it; he kept trying to uncover whatever
the bad news was. And there kept on being no bad news. Very strange. But he kept at it.

"So perhaps you and I can be friends because we are both alone? James, I do not like being
alone. I think you do not like the same, yes?"

James was amazed that he was able to speak about such intimate details of his life without being
afraid, without being worried, without rehearsing everything he said first inside his head. He
was amazed that this Asian boy could be so open, so honest with him. But he was comforted as
well as surprised.

"I don't usually think about it very much, Sakjai. But yes, I mean no; I don't like being alone,
same as you. You and me are friends because we're the only ones we have. We're both all
alone if we aren't friends now. We have to be, at least I hope we can be, I want to be..."

James had been doing very well containing his usual anxiety up until now. He hadn't avoided
emotional contact, and he'd kept it simple so Sakjai could understand his English. That
simplicity had been his salvation, actually. In keeping it simple for Sakjai, he'd made it
uncomplicated and understandable to himself as well. And he hadn't lied. And he hadn't even
had to talk about being gay. It wasn't just about that anymore, not even inside his own head.

Sakjai had been able to stay out of his own darkness and simply speak with James about
James's own problems. He'd been surprised to hear that somebody like James could have such
problems, actually. James had been so strong, so comforting, and so reliable as he'd helped him
back on the sidewalk. James seemed to understand what it was like to be all-alone. This was so
interesting to the Thai boy that, for a moment, he'd been able to forget the enormity of his own
situation, and all the pain that had nearly defeated him today. And Sakjai realized that the
American was really not going to leave him alone. He was able to relax a little. And he hadn't
had to tell James too much about himself. Just the solitude had been enough to admit to. It
seemed that everything else could wait, at least for now.

He wouldn't have to leave today. Maybe he could stay here after all.

The two teenagers didn't speak for a few minutes. They didn't have to do anything. They
simply enjoyed the amazing feeling that they were together. There wasn't anything else to be
done, not right now. They weren't hungry or thirsty. They had no external demands on their
attention or their time. They could just be. Warm lassitude crept over the two of them. They
realized how exhausted they each were. Not physically, for nothing much had been required of
their bodies. But emotionally, it was the same as having run a marathon. Their psychological
energy was sapped.

James reached up slowly, to the shelf above them, where he had placed the precious 100 Baht
note not long before. Next to the Thai money, he found the remote to the stereo system across
from him, next to the desk. He turned himself slightly away from Sakjai and toward the rest of
the room. He clicked the power on, and started the CD that was in there from this morning.

Eons ago, when he had been readying himself for the beginning of this extra-ordinary day, he
had been playing some music. He usually had the stereo or the TV or a video going, even if he
wasn't watching or listening especially. It helped fill the silence and the emptiness, sometimes.
And he wasn't even terribly aware that's why he had it on so much of the time, but that was the
reason.

And why was he turning it on now? Partly out of habit, partly out of a little anxiety that it was
too quiet, for sure. But mostly he turned it on now because they seemed to have finished
speaking right then. They'd said what was needed for the moment. It seemed OK to turn on
some music. He wasn't trying to set any mood of romance, for sure. He didn't even remember
what CDs were in the turnstile today.

As James dropped the remote behind them on the bed, Sakjai watched him. Not with any
particular fear or thought, actually. Just watching.

They held each other on the bed, neither moving much except for the occasional slight re-
assuring stroking of fingers on an arm or a back. The music began softly in the background.
(Oh, James thought to himself, Pet Shop boys...)

"I can't be cool or nonchalant,
Call me an impulsive fool.
You're all I want,
You made me want.

It's much too soon
To talk of love all night
In your bedroom.

I don't know why, it always comes as a surprise,
To find I'm here with you.
You smile, and I am rubbing my eyes
At a dream come true.

I won't play games,
Or waste your time.
But I won't feel ashamed to speak my mind,
So just relax, don't question why.
For calculated facts will not apply.

In my life, there've been few
Who've affected me the way you do, you do,
You do.

I don't know why it always comes as a surprise
To find I'm here with you.
You smile, and I am rubbing my eyes
At a dream come true..."

The music continued in the background. James was struck by the words to that song. He had
never really listened to it before, the way he was now. Of course, he hadn't. He liked the Pet
Shop boys because they were gay. And because their music was good, but not too hard rock,
and because they were cute on the CD covers sometimes. He liked other songs on this
particular CD. It was accidental that this song was next to be played when he turned it on.

Much later on, Sakjai would call that no coincidence. He would call it karma. Much later on,
James would know what that word meant, and Sakjai would understand all the words to the
song. Later on, they will have taught each other many things.

For right now, Sakjai thought it was nice music, but wasn't trying to understand the words. For
right now, James listened to the words of the song, and felt a little self-conscious. But not too
much. He was too pre-occupied with the boy in his arms. That certainly did, "...come as a
surprise..." to James.

As he listened to the song, James watched Sakjai's eyelids get heavy. The Thai boy's breathing
became deeper, more regular. All his muscles relaxed, and his body went limp. But James
found himself able to simply lie there next to Sakjai, watched him go to sleep, there on his bed.
Watched himself as he listened to the music, watched himself relax as well.

And then James wasn't watching any more either.

The CD played on. But both the boys were asleep, their bodies melded together, breathing in
unison unconsciously. They held each other, and every nook and cranny of their bodies
complimented the other's. They fit together, there on the bed. No spaces or gaps between
them, no jagged edges. Sakjai breathed in and out, his warm nose buried in James's neck,
creating a warm gentle movement that would have felt wonderful had James been awake to feel
it. One of his arms held the back of Sakjai's neck, the Thai boy's long black locks falling over
both their faces.

James snored a little.

The music ended.
*****************************************************************************

Almost an hour later, it was starting to get dark outside, and there were no lights on in the
house. The new dark blue Jeep 4x4 wagon pulled into the left side of the doublewide garage.
James just called her "Mom" or "Ma!", and didn't think about her name that much. That's the
way kids think of their parents, of course. But Mom's name is Alison, "Ali" to her friends.

Ali edged the Jeep into the garage with practiced ease and grace, just as she did most things in
life. She angled the vehicle just so, and was able to open the door fully and exit without
squeezing. Not that there was much extra on her frame to squeeze, though. She was a tall, lithe
woman, easy in her body, neither thin nor heavy set. Her dark blond good looks and light
sprinkle of freckles lent her face an open, friendly air. Her white nurse's uniform complimented
her natural color and her frame as well. People hardly ever guessed that she was closer to 40
than she was to 30 years old. She grabbed her bag (bigger than a purse, for Ali is a practical
woman) and the plastic sack full of groceries in one hand, her keys in the other.

As she entered the house, she checked automatically to see if Jim were home, and noticed two
pairs of shoes there by the door. (Huh, wonder who's those are? He has somebody visiting?
Finally, thank you, God! Wonder why they took their shoes off...)

"Jim! I'm home! Why don't you turn on a light or two for your old tired mother?" Hr voice
slightly raised, to carry to the rooms beyond her view as she switched on the small brass lamp
on the side table in the Dining Room. As she went into the kitchen, she switched on the
overhead lights and put the shopping bag on the counter, her bag on one of the chairs at the
kitchenette.

"Jim?" (Hm, must be in his room. The music's not too loud...)

She took off a dark sweater as she walked through the living room, turning on a couple more
lights, including the outside light by the front door. She always likes to have the house looking
cheerful when Paul, her husband of 18 years, got home from his law office. Paul usually got
home after Ali, although hardly ever working too late. That was one of the major reasons he'd
left the fast track of the Wall Street firms he'd worked in when he was a bit younger. Quality
time at home with his family wasn't just a catchall phrase to Paul le Roq. Everybody who knew
him, knew that. It was true for both him and Ali. So he'd be home soon.

Ali put her sweater on a clothes hanger in the closet near the front door.

"Jim, what you and your friend got cookin'?" She didn't mean dinner. She always took turns
with Paul preparing the evening meals, usually early in the week for several nights, so they
could just be gotten out and warmed up, but still be better fare than microwave fast food in
black plastic containers. They didn't need James to become a classic latchkey kid, cooking all
the meals as well as being too much on his own. If anything, James had too little to do around
the place!

Ali walked down the hall to the bedroom doors at the end, hers on the left, Jim's on the right.
As she opened her door, she knocked gently on James's door as well.

"Honey, I'm home. Got a friend with you? I saw all the shoes..."

She didn't wait for an answer especially, just going into the master bedroom, turning on another
light as she did. Ali puttered around in the room, as one does upon coming home from work,
loosening the uniform, hunting through the big walk-in closet for a casual outfit to put on for the
evening at home. No plans for tonight, that's what both Paul and she liked for a Friday night.
On Saturday, they might go out, but Friday night was for each other, and for the family. Since
Christine had gone down to the City to university, the family was just the three of them---
Jimmy (she apologized inside her own mind to Jim for the slip---), Paul and herself. She felt
warm and cozy with thoughts of her brood. Yes, Chris was prickly and independent, and Jim
tended to be a worrier and a loner too much of the time. But she wasn't really too concerned
about her kids. They were growing up, her job as a mother was changing from guarding the
henhouse to waiting for the chicks to come home to roost. Who would have thought the years
would go by so quickly, she mused...

(Boy, sure is awful quiet in Jim's room) Ali thought as she tidied up what little mess had been
involved in changing from professional nurse to casual wife and mom. She re-opened the door
to the master bedroom, preparing to go back to the kitchen and start dinner. But she paused in
the doorway, listening. Her "mother's radar" homed in on the shut door of her younger child's
room. (What ARE they up to in there? Thank God he's got somebody home from school.)

This was the last day before the summer break, and he hadn't had any other kids over all year.
Again this year. She and Paul discussed it regularly. Why doesn't he have more friends? He
says he has friends at school, and not to worry about him. He says he likes to read and enjoys
his own company. He tells us stories of boys' minor adventures after school doing this and that.
But he never seems to be out of the house long enough to do much of anything...

(No music, no TV, no subdued voices discussing major adolescent affairs...) Ali decided she's
check this out. No mother worth her salt could resist investigating strange noises. Or strange
silences! She took the 5 steps from her door to Jim's, and tapped gently, twice.

"Honey?" And she paused. She'd always put a high premium on privacy: her own, her
husband's, and her kids. If the doors were shut, there wasn't much need to lock them. She and
Paul honored these natural boundaries in their household. Those boundaries didn't feel like
barriers, and so nobody needed to defend them or worry about breaking them down either!

Ali did hear something, now that she was nearer Jim's door and really tuned in and listening...

(He's snoring! Good old foghorn sounds off again...) It was sort of a family joke, really. Jim
snored almost exactly like Paul did. She and her daughter complained good-naturedly on
occasion about being surrounded by sawmills in the night...

(But what about those mystery shoes?) "Hmmm..." She thought about it for another moment,
and decided to knock again. Tap, tap, tap.

"Jim?" Louder, a bit. Ali wanted to get his attention; she didn't feel the need to alarm him
unduly.

Snort, gulp, smacking, throat clearing noises...

From behind the closed door, Ali heard. "Uh...Huh?"

"Jim. I'm home from work, getting supper ready. You guys need anything?" She had guessed
it was another boy, but it wasn't a wild guess. Boys mostly wore boy's shoes after all.

"Uh...yeah, Mom, I'm...we're...ok... What time izzit..."

"Six, or thereabouts. Dad'll be home soon. Does your friend want to stay for supper?"

"Uh...dunno...ummm...Mom?"

"Yes, dear? How's about opening the door, so your old mother can hear ya better, hon."

"Uh...jus' a minute..." (Vague rustling noises...) Ali had to admit she was intrigued by the
interesting new development in her house, and she expected the door to be opened by a tostle-
headed sleepy face. But she wasn't.

"Mom? You can open the door now..."

Ali turned the doorknob, and the door opened into the dark. She could make out vague outlines
on the bed and a couple of bright lights from the stereo system opposite. Ali poked her head
around the door, so she could see the bed more completely, without barging in too far. She
understood well enough, the distinction between, "You can open the door" and "You can come
in". Her kids had trained her well in that!

"Jim, what on earth you're doing in here in the dark I'll never understand. Why aren't you guys
outside terrorizing the neighborhood? It's a gorgeous afternoon out there..."

"Mom...he's asleep. Shush..." Ali noticed that her son was whispering. She lowered her own
voice, of course.

Now both mother and son were whispering.

"Sleeping? `He' who? I thought that was your ole buzzsaw I heard cutting zzz's there, son..."

"Ma, stop it...He's really had a bad day. Can I ask ya somethin?"

"Of course..."

"Umm...Why do people um... faint?"

Mother's radar ALERT! Whispering forgotten about!

"What did you just say? Who fainted? Are you alright? What's going on?"

"SHUSHHH!" James really didn't want to wake Sakjai up. Not to mention the vast uncharted
depths of embarrassment he was beginning to notice now that the fogginess of dreamland was
leaving his head.

(Here I am in my bed with another boy, and my legs are all wrapped up in his, and I can't
untangle them. And I'm trying to get one, repeat ONE, small bit of useful information from
Mom, the Walking Encyclopedia and Emergency Room, without waking up the entire town...)

"I will NOT shush, young man..." But Ali did, in fact, shush up. Much to her own amazement
as well as that of her son. But she did start to go further into the dimly lit room to investigate
further.

"Ma...(whispering still) ...ya don't have ta come all the way in."

Ali stopped. Trying to be patient while on Full Mother Alert is very difficult.

"What's going on in there?" She was whispering fiercely, but it did qualify as a whisper.

"Uh, nothin... umm... Can Sakjai stay for supper?"

"Is that the name of the Mystery Guest?"

"Yeah.... So can he? Stay, I mean?"

"Sure, I suppose so, but why are we WHISPERING, and what are you guys doing asleep, and
what's all this talk about fainting?" Ali tried to convey parental emphasis and concern despite
being vocally muted.

"I'm Ok, umm... Sakjai's a friend from my class at school, but he just moved here from
Thailand, and he's having a hard time, an' he says he's really sad, an' I brought him home with
me, an' he's asleep, and I fell asleep, too, listening to music... ummm...what's fer supper?"

"I'm not thinking about supper right now, young man. Thailand? He's sad, he fainted? May I
please come in so we can discuss this properly?"

"Umm... not, umm not right now, ok? He's sleepin and all...We'll come out in a little while.
I'm fine, though, really, Ok?..."

"Jim, I'm not about to stand here in the hallway, whispering about somebody fainting while
he's asleep right under our noses, I ask you, what on Earth..."

"Mom! Shusssshhh...Trust me on this, ok?"

Despite alarm bells ringing in her head, Ali did hear that last phrase. She and Paul had always
tried to teach their children that they were trustworthy, and that they trusted their kids'
judgement. But she wasn't used to being called on it like this. Not by Jim, not here in the
house like this. But she did always try to live by the rules she set for her whole family.

"Jim, this is very strange, and I'd like to help if I can..."

"I know Mom, I'll get him up soon, and we'll come out an' I'll introduce you, ok? He's really
cute. Oh!, ...umm I mean, he's really nice, an' ...umm... we'll come out soon..."

"Oh, and Mom? I'm gonna go by my real name now, ok? I'm gonna be James, from now on.
Umm, can ya, like, ummm close the door, behind ya, Mom?"

Ali blinked as she thought about all that new information for a split second. Her own son was
giving her the bum's rush, for the very first time! Huh!

(Well, Ok, rules are rules.) And so Alison tried to make it a graceful exit, since she'd decided
she was going to trust her son. (Who now wishes to be called James. What's that all about...)?

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, then, Jimmy, um Jim. James..." And she shut the
door behind her and walked thoughtfully down the hall to make supper.

To say that James was relieved when the door shut behind his mother would be the
understatement of the new century. He didn't believe what had just happened, actually. Here
he was, on his bed, in the dark, sleeping with another boy, and he'd invited Mom to just open
the door and have an intimate little discussion. Jesus, he must be really out of it! Unbelievable!
And James had actually expected Mom to just answer an uncomplicated little informational
question about fainting, and not demand more details. As if that were possible! NOT!

And then to tell his own mother that Sakjai was cute! Sure, guy, go right ahead and announce
to the entire world that James La Roq is, in fact, queer as a three-dollar bill. Or a 100 Baht
banknote. Whatever. "He's cute..." Yup. That's what you just said to your own mother. Very
bright way to introduce him to the family. Shit.

Now James was trying to think how to accomplish the next part. He had to get Sakjai up and
awake, and hope that his parents liked him. Well, not liking him so much, that wouldn't be a
problem. But getting them to accept Sakjai as a major new fact of James's life, without
allowing them to ask too many embarrassing questions about the Thai boy and their
relationship.

Relationship? What relationship, James asked himself. We're barely friends... But just a
simple question about whether or not Sakjai was staying for supper put James off balance.
James didn't have a clue about whether or not Sakjai would stay or not.

(So, here we are! I want Sakjai to stay to eat. Face it, I want Sakjai to stay overnight and have
wild passionate sex. I want Sakjai to move right in and stay the rest of his life.)

(But I don't know him. He doesn't know me. I think we're going to be friends, we both say we
want that. But will that last through Sakjai learning that I want more than just to hold his hand
here? I want to hold one or two other bits and pieces of this incredible boy that's for damn sure.
So will I myself make it through supper, let alone will Sakjai stay or not...)

(Huh. I fell asleep. I was sleeping with Sakjai. I never thought I'd fall asleep with somebody
right after falling in love with him! Huh. I've fallen in love, too, haven't I? Before, I was in
lust. I admit it. I was following him around because he was cute. I wasn't thinking about love.
I wasn't thinking about him liking me. Hell, I wasn't even thinking we'd ever even speak to
each other! But here we are, asleep on my bed, hugging and tangled up together. And now I
gotta think about the Parental Units and what they'll say and do in this situation...)

(God, I have to pee sooo bad...)

(Is it possible to pee with a raging hard-on like this? I do have a major hard-on. God, I hope
Sakjai won't notice that right off. Or maybe I DO hope he notices that. Oh God...)

(Can I take a leak into that empty Coke can, so I don't actually have to get up and disturb
Sakjai? Ugh. Bad idea. What do I do with the evidence after that?

(How long might it be possible to just stay in here, in the dark, and avoid all of the possible shit
coming up out outside my room in the next hour or two?)

(But, God, I really gotta pee...)
**************************************************************************

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Ali was trying to concentrate on preparing supper. It was a simple
and enjoyable task, usually. She liked to cook, and she knew what they were having tonight.
Nothing earth shattering, the meatloaf was already in the fridge defrosting. All she had to do
was get the potatoes and the veggies ready.

In fact, the tasks were so simple that she hardly had to pay any attention to them at all. Peeling
potatoes, Ali's thoughts were almost entirely back in Jim's---no, make that in James's---
bedroom. What's with this sudden urge to call himself James and ditch nicknames altogether?
That was certainly an interesting development!

And the mysterious fainting friend. Forget what the name is, Sak something or other. Sounds
foreign to me. Thai, James had said? Thai. Huh. He's never mentioned this Thai friend
before. New in school. Does that mean this boy is new in the States? Maybe fainted because
of a change in the environment? Jet lag? Dehydration?

Alison, girl, you have practically no information to make a proper diagnosis. Give it a rest, and
stop obsessing about that right now... Ok, but a mother's got a right to obsess. And what does
this boy eat, I wonder? Should I make rice and not potatoes? Nah. That would be too strange
for color TV, as her father had been fond of saying. I hope he eats meatloaf.

And what had her son said toward the end, before he gave her the boot out of his room? "He's
cute..." Yes, he's definitely said "cute", and then had fumbled around and come up with the
word, "nice" as well. Her son was sleeping with another boy, and called this other boy, "cute",
and then hadn't wanted her in the room with them.

If he thinks this new friend is cute, Paul and I will have to think about a chat with James about
that! Cute male friends, meaning that James might be...what? Gay? Bisexual?

Why on Earth haven't we thought of this possibility before now?! If he's a loner, and doesn't
have too many friends, and worries about things a lot, of course he might be worrying about his
sexuality and what's what about who he's attracted to. We should have been talking to him
about this whole topic much sooner! Deficient parenting on that score. But who can think of
everything? Especially on this particular issue. Her first-born had been so obviously and
relentlessly heterosexual from the get-go, they certainly hadn't had to think about orientation
questions with her, had they? Nope. No issues with Christine about that!

If Jim----oops, sorry, there, James---- is gay, or bi, then Paul and I will probably have to tell him
some other news, as well. And she hadn't thought at ALL about that possibility until just that
moment. Who would have predicted that she'd be thinking about that, on this otherwise
ordinary Friday night in June, either...

End of "Holding On For Dear Life"
Part 07