I was in my office at home, writing code for a project I'd promised to get done before the coming weekend when that patronizing, annoying little jingle that announced incoming email went off. I made a mental note to myself, for at least the 73
rd
time, to write something to override that noise. Gawd it was annoying! I finished the couple of lines I had in my head, saved the file and sent it off to the compiler.
While that was running, I went into my inbox to see what had come through. Just one message, a single name I didn't recognize, but that didn't mean anything. The two kids were away at school and were known to change their email address on a whim, so I had to pay attention. But this name just didn't seem like anything they'd use. I'd written a little program to stop the junk emails coming in, but this one had bypassed that, so maybe it was legit. I opened the email. It consisted of just one word:
REMEMBER?
It was only then that I looked back at the cryptic name the sender had used. I didn't need to be able to decipher the name to know who it was from β I just took a little pleasure in trying to decipher it, like the vanity license plate you're never sure whether you've figured out or not.
How long has this one-way correspondence been going on? 15 years? No, it's closer to 20 years now. I remember the first note I received in the mail long ago, long before email came about. It was in the same format, the same single word, written in your neat, backward-leaning, left-handed script. There was never a return address, and I never sought one. It was a rhetorical question, and there was no need for contact. I remember once a number of years ago I finally got up the courage to reply to one of your emails, only to receive back "addressee unknown." But since you're asking, again, after all these years - of
course I remember!
I was now afraid I would not be able to meet my deadline. These reminders, always coming out of the blue, generally cost me at least a day of productive work, and right now I didn't have that time to give.
I also remember the second note you wrote:
"REMEMBER? I've been thinking about it a
lot
lately."
Maybe six months after receiving that, I heard through the grapevine you'd gotten married. I was glad for you, but that note stuck in my mind at least as much as the first. For you to have sent it so close to what must have been your wedding day always gave me pause. I always wondered when you actually sat down, wrote it, and then sent it.
The compiler was done, but I couldn't concentrate. I started the debugger, and walked from my office to the kitchen to stare into the fridge. Maybe enlightenment would come to me from the inside of the refrigerator. There was no one around to disturb my thoughts, and I knew that was the problem. I needed to be sidetracked, and Kate wasn't due home till after 6 tonight. So, I stared into the refrigerator blankly....
It was my last summer of taking classes. My thesis was obviously not going to be done in time to coincide with the end of more formal instruction and I was pissed about that. I had a couple undergrad students who thought college summer session was like detention and they were being a pain in the ass. My girlfriend, Jess, while not a live-in, was close enough to that that she may as well have been, told me at the beginning of the summer she was applying to a famous West Coast school for her grad work. I knew with her grades and board scores that she was probably going to get in, and I was going to be stuck in the miserable Northeast for at least another semester all by myself. My resentment, and her excitement had kept us from seeing eye-to-eye for a while, and while we'd slept together, we hadn't
really slept together since the beginning of the summer. A couple weeks and it would be over till after Labor Day, but in the meantime, I needed to work out just a little bit of tension.
So, I hopped in my beat up Corolla, turned up the radio to drown out the rattles, and got on the back road to Skinny Cove. Skinny Cove was the nickname college-age locals had given this small cove in the local lake where we all went skinny-dipping. It was the late '70s, and this was just thing to do. There was seldom any wind there, and it was just long enough and wide enough to provide a good swim. It was one of the few hot days we got up there, and, after stripping off my clothes and diving in, it felt great. Starting from the rock near the center of the cove I began my laps, swimming out to the opening to the larger lake, and back. The exercise did me good, and on one of the return laps back in I noticed a guy standing on the miniscule beach getting ready to dive in. I thought to myself, "Now there's a little Adonis" and went back to swimming, not giving it another thought.
To this day I don't know why that thought ran through my head. I'd seen plenty of naked people there before, guys and girls, and had seldom had any thoughts one way or the other. Occasionally a girl would come by that would cause an instantaneous standing ovation, but I'd just head out into deeper water to drown the applause.
I swam back in toward the rock, and saw the guy standing on the other side. I nodded and said hello, and gained my footing on the narrow sandbar that sloped downwards. I started to walk up the sandbar toward the rock and stopped where the water was waist deep. I stood there, hands on my hips, trying to get my breath back, while 'Adonis' swam short laps, never straying too far from the rock. As my breathing became more normal, he swam around to where I was standing and stood on the sandbar facing me. We made a few small comments about the weather, student status, blah and whatever else I don't recall, and then, he just reached across the water between us and grabbed my cock. It had been floating I guess, I hadn't really paid any attention. I looked him directly in the eyes, and he asked "Are you homosexual?"
"No," I answered, my cock beginning to grow in his hand.
"Are you bisexual?"