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       #Post#: 30469--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Twenty-Eight
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:07 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The day didn’t exactly drag, but it felt weird.  It took me a
       while to realize that I’d been at school the past two days (at
       least for a little bit), but that I had been to basically none
       of my classes.  Between that, and how much seemed to have
       happened the last two or three days, I think I’d just been
       feeling a little… disoriented maybe?  Once I started getting
       back into the familiar routine, things started settling around
       me like a favorite jacket.  Once that happened, it was much
       easier to start really prioritizing the ‘to do’ list with at
       least one eye on the real world.
       After civics, I thought to start asking around.  In
       pre-calculus, I found a girl, Janet, who attended the
       Episcoplian Church.  She didn’t live close to me, but her friend
       Kevin did.  He had a license, and he was willing to give me a
       ride to church Sunday morning.  She also told me that some of
       the boys around our age just wore polo shirts,  but others wore
       jackets and ties, so I’d be fine, as long as I wore good slacks
       and a collared shirt.
       By lunch, I felt like I’d pretty much settled back to normal,
       except it felt like people were just more aware of me.  I was
       sure more people were saying hello to me, but it wasn’t anything
       bad.
       The biggest difference is when I got to the lunch room.  John
       was sitting in my regular spot, but a seat had been held for me
       at the middle of the table, with Tanner on one side of me, Adam
       on the other, and Walker directly across from me.  I felt a bit
       targeted, but I took my assigned place.
       Over time, everyone had gotten used to my little lunch
       eccentricities.  I’d made a point of explaining that, yes, what
       I did was fairly common, but no, I didn’t do it exactly the same
       way as everyone else, any more than they ate their lunch the
       exact same way as every Texan.  For one thing, it’s not like I
       can pick up matpakke paper at the local grocers around here.
       I spread out my bread, then assembled my sandwiches; one with
       cheese, chicken, and some sweet relish; one with lettuce,
       cheese, and tomato, and one thick with butter and honey for
       dessert. The last piece was a special treat, and I reached into
       my bag for one of the carefully hoarded tubes of Mills Kaviar
       that Hilde had sent me for Christmas.  The Swedish Kalles that I
       could get locally is okay, but nothing compares to the taste of
       home.
       When I finished eating, they were talking about their role
       playing game.  It was no big surprise really.  Most of the
       people at the table weren’t in drama, and most TV shows hadn’t
       come back from their Christmas break yet, so new topics were in
       somewhat short supply.
       After a few minutes, I excused myself to go get a coffee.  Adam
       came with me.  We didn’t really feel the need to talk, and we
       just walked along quietly.  After getting our drinks, we sat
       down, inside of course, since it was way too cold for Adam, and
       even a bit chilly for me.  After a few minutes of just enjoying
       the drinks and each other,  I told him that Ruth Landon had
       called me, and what had been said.
       By the time my conditioning class rolled around, I was ready to
       go home.  At least my last two classes are mostly fun.  It was
       too cold to send the class out, so Coach had us in the weight
       room, but I asked him if I could run.  He agreed, as long as I
       promised to work on my 3200 meters.  I didn’t have much choice,
       so I agreed.  He sent Blain out with me.
       Blain showed me the right marks for that distance, then timed
       me.  I felt a bit sorry for him.  Eight degrees is a bit chilly,
       but I was wearing jogging pants, a sweatshirt, and a watch cap,
       so I was plenty warm almost as soon as I started moving.  On the
       other hand,  Blain just had to stand there while I ran.
       I didn’t set any kind of record, but I hadn’t expected to.  I
       was used to running almost half that distance, so I wasn’t going
       to do great at first.  Blaine showed me my time, promised me I’d
       done great at the halfway mark.  He pretty much agreed with me
       that I just needed to find my pace for this new distance, build
       my endurance, and the speed would come.
       Blain made me set an alarm to make sure I changed on time, then
       he went inside.  As soon as I caught my breath, I started again.
       I wasn’t really trying for speed so much this time.  I just let
       my body catch the rhythm, and let the motion clear my mind.
       Theater turned into a bit of a problem, simply because I had to
       sit down and discuss my situation with Carrie.
       I really liked her.  Unlike all the other teachers, constantly
       demanding they be called by this title or that, she was casual
       with us, yet she kept her classroom under control by actually
       earning our respect.  She came closest to one of my teachers
       from home.
       Still, she was a teacher, and I was having to tell her I was
       considering failing her class, which would happen if I didn’t
       participate in the Spring Musical. Pappa always did tell me I
       was a bit tight in the forehead.
       Carrie listened to what I had to say and some of my plans.  I
       hadn’t expected her to… narc? on us, but I also hadn’t expected
       her to actually offer support.
       “Nothing that will break the school rules or hurt the musical or
       the theater department of course, but outside of that, I’ll be
       glad to help.  Walker and I have already discussed this, and
       I’ve always agreed that the school needed something like this.
       We just never had a great idea how to do it.”
       With that out of the way, she told me to ‘stop putting the cart
       before the horse’, and see how my audition went before I worried
       about anything else.  I have to admit that made sense, so I
       scheduled mine for right after Adam’s.
       Carrie was letting us have the period to rehearse, while she was
       putting together the technical crew.  I snuck off to a quiet
       corner and managed to finish my civics and English homework.  I
       was just deciding how much homework I had to do tonight to catch
       up when the bell rang.
       As soon as I got to my bike, I turned my phone on.  I had four
       messages waiting.  Coach Hall had already arranged everything,
       but needed me to call him on some details.  Jim had talked to
       someone, but it would be tomorrow before he heard anything back.
       Officer Berg explained that, by the time he talked to his
       sergeant, Coach Hall had already called them, but he said if I
       needed anything else, to call him back.  Dillon said he and
       Linda were both having to work late and asked what I’d like for
       takeout.
       All right, so… Call Coach back when I get  home, before starting
       homework.  Text thanks to Jim and Officer Berg.  And Dee already
       knew the answer - Genghis Grill, though it’s nice he asked.  The
       main question was whether I wanted Mongolian steak or chicken
       pad Thai.  All of which made me realize that I hadn’t spoken to
       Emil since Sunday morning, which only seemed like it had been
       ten years.  I figured the time difference  quickly and decided
       to call him before I left for school in the morning.
       Anything else?  No - home, Coach, snack, texts, homework.
       That’s enough to be getting on with for now.
       #Post#: 30470--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Twenty-Nine
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:13 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       “Are you okay?”  Adam asked as he came up behind me and gave my
       shoulder a light squeeze.
       I reached up and patted his hand.
       “I’m fine, takk, I just…
       “I dreamed of Oslofjorden last night, and I talked to Emil this
       morning.”
       He tilted his head in understanding.
       “Olso… that’s the city you’re from?”
       I nodded, ignoring that he chose not to address Emil.
       “And a fjord… that’s kind of like a bay, right?”
       I had to think about that one.
       “I think so.  It’s been two years since I had geology, so don’t
       ask me the difference.”
       He smiled.
       “Feeling homesick?”
       “Not… exactly.  Have you ever been to your Gulf?”
       “Well, it’s Mexico’s Gulf, not mine, but yeah - a couple of
       times.”
       “How far is it?”
       “I dunno.   Couple of hundred miles, and don’t ask me what that
       is in kilometers. I think about six hours.”
       “Would you believe that I could walk out of school, get on a
       bus, and be at the promenade in maybe ten or fifteen minutes?”
       “That’s like a riverwalk?”
       I thought for a second.
       “I don’t know a riverwalk.  The promenade was along the fjord,
       and it was beautiful.  Emil liked to go down there and walk.
       Sometimes they had music or comedy.  They always had food.  They
       had kayaks…”
       I smiled.
       “What?”
       “Emil so wanted to take a kayak trip, but I never could get good
       at it, so we were stuck on small trips or led tours.
       “But me,” I continued after a second, “I would sometimes go down
       there by myself when I was stressed, maybe go to Talormade
       Oslobukta for a donut and coffee.  There was just something so…
       so peaceful.”
       It was cold enough that Dee had dropped me at school this
       morning, and suddenly Adam shivered, so I quit talking and led
       him inside.
       “By the way, Dad told me about the vigil tomorrow night.  It’s a
       great idea.”
       “Thank you.”
       “And Mrs. Landon called me last night, too.”
       I waited.
       “She asked if I would be a pallbearer, so I guess I’ll be right
       next to you.”
       I didn’t know what to say, and we were quiet for a few minutes.
       Finally he sighed.
       “How was Emil?”
       “Okay.  He was doing maths homework.  He always hated maths.”
       I paused.
       “I hadn’t talked to him since Sunday, before I went to your
       house.”
       “Oh.”
       “Yeah.  I told him pretty much everything.”
       “What did he say?”
       “That he’s sorry, and he wishes I was there, so he could hold
       me.”
       It was his turn to pause.
       “You told him about us?”
       I nodded.
       “What did he say?”
       “He was glad we could be there for each other.”
       “He wasn’t jealous?”
       “He’s with Håkon now.  He has no right to be jealous.”
       “But was he?”
       I held my hand up with thumb and index finger maybe a centimeter
       or two apart.
       “A little bit, I think.”
       The two of us stood there, quiet in a sea of students flowing
       around us, the weight of much unsaid holding us still.
       “I need to go to my locker,” Adam said, finally breaking the
       quiet.
       “Me too,” I admitted.  “Think we’ll scandalize the school if we
       hug right here.”
       “I don’t care.”
       It was just a guy hug, our clasped hands between us while we
       bumped shoulders, and patted each other's backs, but it felt
       good.
       School actually went pretty well. The news Coach Hall had given
       me yesterday, led me to eat quickly then go to the debate lab.
       They were having a speech class, but they were apparently
       practicing.  Mr. Blair, the speech instructor invited me into
       his office to talk. I explained my situation and tight deadline.
       He offered to let me come by after school, but I had gym.
       Instead, he gave me a small book that he said had a number of
       rough ideas in it that might help, promised he’d check his
       school email account that evening, and told me when he’d be
       available the next day, if I needed help.
       I was not looking forward to my martial arts class.  My arse had
       already been thoroughly chewed by Mr. Keegan, then by Linda.  I
       did not feel like adding a third time to it.  Worse, it was
       going to be my first time there knowing Jake wouldn’t be there.
       It had grown colder through the day, and the idea of going home
       and having a cup of hot soup sounded awesome.
       I wasn’t ready to quit, and I felt sure that’s where not going
       this afternoon would lead.
       I caught up with Walker just past his locker and  walked with
       him to his car.  We were quiet most of the ride, but he did tell
       me that they’d cancelled their role playing game Saturday, since
       there was no telling how everyone would feel or when they’d be
       able to get together. Instead, they were going to watch movies
       at his house, and he made sure to tell me I was welcome if I
       wanted to come.
       I thanked him for both the invitation and the ride, as he
       dropped me off, and I went inside to change.
       Coach Petersen was there as soon as I walked in the door.
       “Could I speak to you, Sieger?  In the office, please.”
       More office.  Åh, hvilken lykke!.
       I followed.
       “First of all, Sieger…”
       “I’m sorry, Coach.”
       He stopped and looked at me.
       “For what?”
       “For.. the fight?”
       “Is that what you think this is about?”
       I nodded.
       “You think I called you in here to chew you out, because you
       used the skills that I… well, that I’ve helped you develop at
       least, to beat up four people who happened to be bigger than
       you, just because they were assaulting two of your friends?  Do
       I have that story straight?”
       I was starting to feel confused, but I nodded.
       “Mr. Carlsen, I am totally against people using their skills
       outside of the dojo to pick fights.  That’s not what you did.
       You used your skills for exactly the reason they were actually
       created - to protect people.”
       “But Coach, I provoked them.”
       He looked at me.
       “Now, I’ll admit that I’ve only heard these stories third hand
       at this point, but, of your two friends, didn’t one have to see
       a physical trainer because of his shoulder, and the other have
       to see a doctor because of bruising to the abdomen?”
       I nodded and wondered at his sources of information.
       “And how did you provoke them?”
       “I said some pretty bad stuff.  I called them…”
       “Sieger, there is nothing you could say to them that I won’t
       only agree with, but probably be willing to say something worse.
       This was four guys - two of them adults - picking on two
       younger, smaller kids.  Those are the worst type of scum.  You.
       Did.  Not.  Do.  Anything.  Wrong.  Do you understand me?”
       I nodded.
       “Good, because I’m not going to listen to anyone who says
       anything bad about you for what you did, and that includes you.”
       I wish I knew why I’d started crying so easily lately.  Coach
       Petersen didn’t seem to notice, but then he handed me a towel.
       “Here, I think you have something in your eye.”
       “Tusen takk,” I replied as I took it.
       “Now, why I actually called you in here.  Chris, Coach Hall,
       means well, but he sometimes presumes a little much.  I love the
       idea you had for the vigil, but Chris told me he told you that
       you have to give a speech?”
       I nodded.
       “You don’t.  You’re welcome to if you’d like, but…”
       “I stopped by and talked to the speech instructor today.  He
       gave me a book to get started, and he’s going to try to help me
       at lunch tomorrow.”
       Coach Petersen nodded.
       “Good.  Well, let me know if you need anything.”
       “Thank you, Coach.”
       “You’re welcome.  Now, go get dressed and warm up real good.
       You’re going to be sparring this evening, so I can check that
       technique you used.”
       #Post#: 30471--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:19 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Eddy offered to drive me home, which I certainly needed.
       “I’m sorry about Jake,” he told me.
       “Thank you.”
       “You sound tired,” he commented.
       “Beat,” I agreed.
       “More like beat on.  Catching Coach’s attention - even in a good
       way - is usually not a great idea.”
       “Du snakker rett fra leveren.”
       “Huh?”
       “Sorry… Uh, it means… damn straight?”
       “Oh.  All that for ‘damned straight’?”
       “Actually it means ‘you’re talking from your liver.”
       “Damned straight, huh?”
       “Will you be there tomorrow night?” I asked.
       “Yes.  I’ve been telling everyone I could.”
       “Thank you.”
       He pulled into our driveway, and I offered him my fist for a
       bump before climbing out of the car.
       Linda and Dillon had already eaten, but they’d left a plate in
       the oven for me, and I was more than ready for it.  As soon as
       I’d finished and cleaned up, I retired to my room.  I had  more
       emails to answer, and a little more homework to do, but I had
       something more important first.
       When it happened, Pappa and I were almost the same height.  I
       was more athletic than him at that point, but he had, as Mamma
       put it, ‘a little extra insulation.’  Because of that, when most
       of their stuff had been put in storage, I kept some of his suits
       and nicer clothes.  With just a bit of digging through, I found
       the black suit I’d recalled, and was pleased to find it fit
       almost perfectly.  It was a bit rumpled and creased from travel
       and storage, so I set it aside.  The shoes were in good
       condition, but a bit dusty.
       I found a nearby place that offered same day cleaning and had a
       place that did shoe care and repair in the same strip mall.
       Dillon promised to handle dropping them off and picking them up
       for me.
       I’d been meaning to get a haircut and kept putting it off.  Now
       I couldn’t find a place that could fit me in, unless I wanted to
       patronize one of those fifteen dollar a cut places where you had
       no idea who’d be doing your work.  Instead, I looked online
       until I found a decent hairstyle I could wear with my hair at
       this length, and ordered a pomade to handle the styling.
       With all that done, I turned to homework.
       Homework done, most of my email answered, chores caught up, and
       a long hot bath - I’d crawled in bed, almost ready to go to
       sleep. Now, I sighed, gave up, and pulled my hand out from my
       boxers.
       What do you think of when you’re jerking off?  That hot new
       actor you like?  The cute boy that sits near you in class, but
       to whom you’ve never spoken?  Maybe you have a favorite memory
       you replay?  Do you think about your old boyfriend?  Or maybe
       you think about the last boy you kissed and how good he looks
       with just a towel wrapped around his waist?  Or, do you think of
       your old boyfriend and his new boyfriend, or the guy you really
       like who just took his own life, or the guy who looks so good in
       that towel and how disappointed he looked when you turned him
       down?
       Emil had made it very clear he wasn’t going to put his life on
       hold while I was across the ocean, but he also made it clear he
       loved me and wanted me to come home.  What would happen to Håkon
       if I was able to go home tomorrow?  What would happen to Adam?
       Did I really want something to happen with Adam?  Jake’s own
       parents apparently hadn’t wanted to know he was gay; did I
       really owe his memory anything beyond love and respect?
       I sighed again and rolled over tucking Yulbamse, my friendly
       Christmas stuffy bear, under my arm.  Two things were very clear
       to me.  First, Mamma always told me, ‘most of the time, you have
       to make a decision, and not making one yourself just means it’s
       made for you’.  I’m pretty sure that definitely applied in this
       case.  The other is, whatever else I decided to do, this weekend
       and what I was doing were about Jake and his memory, and I
       couldn’t ignore those, but I couldn’t live my life around them
       either.
       I thought of getting up and putting on some music, but I cuddled
       a bit deeper under the comforter, and sang quietly, “Sulla meg
       litt, du mamma mi,
       Skal du få snor på skjorta di, Vil du ha gule, vil du…”
       The next day was horrible.  It dragged, but seemed like I didn’t
       have enough time to get things done.  I’d emailed my speech to
       Mr. Blair - the speech instructor last night.  I stopped by his
       office before school, and he gave it back to me, marked up, and
       with instructions to make it sound ‘more like myself’, then come
       back at lunch.  I was trying to do that, while also trying to
       get all the in class work done, so I wouldn’t have any homework.
       At least in bio and maths, I had tests, and I finished them
       fast enough to have some free time.
       I rushed through lunch, so I could talk to Mr. Blair.  He helped
       me finalize the speech, then gave me a few notecards and helped
       me break it down, so I wouldn’t get lost, but wouldn’t read it
       either.
       For once, I was thankful for all the tests on Fridays, because I
       don’t think I would have been able to focus on lectures.  After
       I finished my history test, I sat, supposedly memorizing the
       speech, but instead staring at Adam, and second guessing my
       decisions from last night.
       After the last bell finally rang, I waited at my locker for
       Adam.  He led me outside,and we quickly found his dad waiting
       for us.  He dropped us at my house, with Adam’s clothes.
       “Thanks, Jim,” I told him.
       “You’re welcome, Sieger.  Adam, call when you want me to pick
       you up.”
       “Thanks, Dad.”
       I think Adam and I knew we were in a delicate balance.  It’s
       hard to describe, but I know I was very comfortable around him,
       but also pretty nervous.  I didn’t ask if he understood that,
       but he seemed to be acting much the way I was feeling.
       I wanted to shave, so I let Adam use the shower first.  We both
       stripped down to our boxers in my room, then went into the
       bathroom.  Even though I’d seen him naked before, I very
       carefully avoided looking as he got into the shower.  Once I was
       through, I slid out of my boxers, wrapped a clean towel around
       my waist, and went back to my room to pick out my clothes for
       the evening, then waited for him.  When Adam called, I went back
       to the bathroom.  He’d dried off, and had a towel wrapped around
       his own waist.
       “I forgot deodorant.  Can I borrow…?”
       “Knock yourself out,” I replied, gesturing at the medicine
       cabinet.
       As I hung my towel and stepped into the shower, I noticed that
       he was very carefully keeping his attention on the medicine
       cabinet and not the mirror.
       When I finished my shower, Adam was gone.  I dried off, sprayed
       deodorant and body spray, and went to my room.
       When I got there, Adam was in front of the mirror in striped
       boxers, white t-shirt, and black socks, brushing out his hair.
       I walked to my dresser, pulled a pair of clean boxers on beneath
       the towel, then hung the towel up to dry.
       When we were ready to go, Adam was dressed in navy slacks and a
       light blue, button down shirt, while I was wearing charcoal gray
       pants and long-sleeved t-shirt under a black polo.  We were both
       wearing black trainers.  I put on my Asos pea coat, while Adam
       pulled on his school jacket. I looked at him, then handed him my
       pea coat.
       “What?”
       “Try it on,” I urged him.
       He did and it fit beautifully.
       “Keep it.”
       “But what are you going to wear?”
       I reached into the closet and pulled out Pappa’s pea coat, which
       was a size bigger than mine.
       “Oh. Are you sure?”
       I nodded.
       “It looks good on you, and it’s a bit more formal.”
       We marched out into the living room, and Linda pronounced us
       both presentable, so we headed to the car with Dillon.
       “I’m going to Target and Game Stop, and I’ll pick you up at
       Arby’s, right?”
       “Ja,” I confirmed.
       “Okay,” he said as we pulled up to the Funeral Home.  “Call me
       if anything changes.”
       “We will,” Adam promised.  “Thank you.”
       We signed a guest book and were pointed towards the room where
       the viewing was being held.  There were a number of people
       there.  I recognized a few of them from the dojo or school, but
       a lot of them were older, and I assumed they were friends of his
       parents or relatives.
       I saw his parents towards the front of the room talking to
       someone.
       Adam and I walked towards the front of the room, where the
       coffin lay.  Where his body lay.
       I stopped.
       Adam took another step, then stopped himself.  He looked back
       over his shoulder at me.  Did I shake my head a bit?
       He held his hand up to me.
       I stared at it a long moment, then I looked into his eyes.  He
       nodded and stepped back to me.
       “Do you want to sit down while I… see him?”
       I shook my head.
       “Do you need to leave?”
       I couldn’t shake my head this time, but I reached forward and
       took his hand.
       “Are you sure?”
       I think I managed to nod.
       He turned around again and took a step, but didn’t pull on me.
       He just waited until I took a step.  Then we both took another.
       I offered to give Adam a moment by himself, but he declined, so
       we both stepped up.  I looked at Jake for a moment, but it
       wasn’t really him.  My hand trembled, so I held the edge of the
       coffin and bowed my head.
       Fader vår, du som er i himmelen!
       La ditt navn holdes hellig. La ditt rike komme.
       La din vilje skje på jorden som i himmelen.
       Gi oss i dag vårt daglige brød.
       Forlat oss vår skyld, som vi og forlater våre skyldnere.
       Led oss ikke inn i fristelse, men frels oss fra det onde.
       For riket er ditt, og makten og æren i evighet. Amen.
       The familiar words came back to me easily, but then I fumbled a
       bit.  I know Lutheran’s have a Prayer for the Dead, though it’s
       not commonly used.  Instead, I just closed my eyes and tried to
       find the words to say goodbye.
       Someone put their hands on my shoulders and squeezed lightly.  I
       looked up to realize  Adam was gone, and glanced behind to find
       Walker.
       “You okay?’
       I nodded.
       “I think so.”
       “His parents are coming.”
       I looked up, and Walker started to leave, but Mr. Landon stopped
       them.
       “Ruth,” I nodded to her, “Jeremy.”
       “I’m sorry,” Jeremy Landon said, “but could we talk to you two
       and Adam?”
       Walker seemed nervous about it, but we gathered Adam, and the
       five of us retired to a side room.
       “Sieger, I told you that the police had taken Jake’s phone and
       computer?” Ruth asked me
       I nodded.
       “Well, they also got a court order for that Jackson person’s
       electronics.  They are charging him with Class A cyberbullying
       and manslaughter.”
       I heard Walker or Adam gasp. I know my eyes went wide.
       “Did you know, or ever hear, that Jake was gay?” Jeremy asked.
       “I had heard that,” I answered, “but not from him.  I don’t know
       if it was true or not.”
       Adam looked unsure, but Walker continued.
       “It’s been a while since I hung around with him, but when I knew
       him, he was… playful - not flirty, but like a young kid.  I
       can’t really remember him ever showing much interest in guys or
       girls, to be honest.”
       Jake’s parents nodded, not seeming to notice that Adam had
       stayed quiet.
       “Do you know if anything was bothering him?”
       I think you asked me that before.  I honestly don’t.  You know
       he and I shared a room on the NAGA trip?”
       They both nodded.
       “He seemed… not upset, I don’t think, but a little sad, or down
       maybe.  I asked him then if he wanted to talk about something,
       but he said he didn’t.”
       “Thank you,” Ruth said.  “Well, the police told us today that
       they found evidence on both computers that Jackson had been
       bullying Jake.  Some of them called him… well, bad words about
       his… his sexual identity, I guess.  Jackson said he had proof,
       and he was going to post it all over the school and social
       media, so everyone would know he was.. .well, that he was gay.
       Sometimes he told Jake he wouldn’t do it if Jake would… do stuff
       or give him money.  Other times, he said he was just going to do
       it for fun.”
       “There’s no way Jake was… like that,” Jeremy assorted.  “But
       there’s no telling what this S… person might have made up or
       done.”
       “Do they think…” Walker started then stopped.
       “Do they think Jackson assaulted Jake?” Jeremy asked.  “They
       think it could have happened, but they couldn’t find any proof.
       We suggested they might talk to you, but they said they already
       had.  We,” he added, gesturing between himself and his wife,
       “thought maybe, if you knew that, you might think of something
       else.”
       “I don’t think I’ve seen Jake in a year, except for the
       Christmas Party at Sieger’s,” Walker said.
       “And Adam was only with us a couple of times,” I added, “but if
       I think of anything, I promise I’ll let the police know.”
       “Thank you so very much,” Ruth said, reaching out to take my
       hand.
       She was crying, and reached into her purse for a handkerchief.
       Jeremy spoke up, moving slightly in front of her, as if to cover
       her action.
       “Mrs. Landon’s mother is here, and they’re going to stay here to
       greet anyone else that comes.  Jake’s uncle and some cousins and
       I are going to be leaving for the vigil in a few minutes.  Do
       you boys need a ride?”
       “No, thank you,” I answered.  “We need to eat, then my uncle is
       going to pick us up.”
       “I drove,” Walker added. “Thank you though.  Hey, do y’all just
       want to ride with me?  I need to get something to eat anyway.”
       We said our goodbyes, and left the Landons with a little privacy
       for a few minutes.
       #Post#: 30472--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty (continued)
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:19 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       We stopped for gas, and I paid to fill Walker’s tank, for all
       the driving he’d been doing for us lately.  Adam and I called
       Jim and Dee to let them know Walker was taking us to the vigil
       and would bring us home.
       We stopped to eat at Panda Express.  It wasn’t my favorite, but
       they had pretty good chow mein, and I always got a side of their
       super greens there.  Dillon hates greens, so we don’t eat them
       much at home.
       Walker sat across from us, and, part way through the meal, he
       stopped and really focused on us.
       “You two are so cute together.”
       “Don’t start on me,” I warned him.
       “No, I’m serious.  And I like your hair back like that.  It
       makes you look a little older.”
       “Really?” I asked, half suspicious.
       “Yeah, you look sixteen now.”
       “I am sixteen, Walker.”
       “I know, but the bangs made you look a little younger.”
       I wasn’t sure if I was being teased or not, so I let it go and
       took another bite of my mushroom chicken.
       “Do y’all think that was the right thing to do?” Adam said,
       sounding a bit unsure.
       “What’s that?” Walker asked.
       “Telling Mr. and Mrs. Landon Jake wasn’t gay.”
       “We didn’t.”
       “But you said..”
       “Adam, kjære, what I said was that I’d heard someone say Jake
       was gay, but that he’d never said that, or acted like it around
       me.  What Walker said was that he just acted like a guy who
       wasn’t really interested in sex.  Is either of those untrue?”
       He shook his head, then mumbled ‘no.’
       “Are you…” I stumbled and tried again, “You know, I’ve never
       really asked this, but are you even sure he was gay?  I mean,
       when you say you guys dated…”
       “We had sex.   Kinda.  I guess.”
       “You guess?” Walker said.  “Either you had…”
       “No, I know what he means.  I was thinking about it the other
       day.”
       “What does he mean then,” Walker asked, sounding a bit
       exasperated, but also looking around to see if people were
       noticing us.
       “I mean, it seems like a lot of people consider themselves to
       still be virgins after they’ve had oral sex.  And let’s say oral
       sex is definitely sex - it’s in the name after all, right?
       Okay, what if they just gave each other handies?”
       “Okay, okay, fine,”  Walker admitted.
       “More important, it’s no one’s business except his and Jake’s.”
       “Not yours?” Walker asked, making me start to wish I’d just let
       Dee come pick us up.
       “No.  Even if he and I get really serious, all he owes me is the
       truth about if and how long since he’s had unprotected sex, and
       an honest test.”
       I think Walker could tell he’d pushed too far.  He might have
       just been teasing, but this was not the night or the subject for
       joking around.  He looked down at his plate and took a bite.
       Adam, on the other hand, rested his hand on my thigh and gave it
       a light squeeze.
       I ate a few bites, then turned back to the question.
       “Seriously, though, Adam - you don’t owe them anything about the
       relationship you and Jake had.  If you want to tell them later,
       or if they find something out and ask you, just tell them the
       truth: Jake was shy about it, and you were uncomfortable talking
       about it.
       He squeezed my thigh again.  This time I reached down and patted
       his hand.
       We ate the rest of the meal in silence.  When we finished, we
       were still ahead of time, and we started discussing what movies
       we might watch tomorrow night, as we walked to the car.
       The parking lot of the strip mall where the dojo was located was
       closed off.  Police were directing cars to park along the street
       or in the lot across the street.  Walker let us out, then went
       to park.  As we walked in, I saw Officer Berg, and waved at him.
       He was busy, but saw me, smiled, and waved back.
       There was already a crowd forming in the parking lot, even
       though it wasn’t announced to start until half past seven.
       There was a table set up on the sidewalk in front of the dojo.
       On the table top was a set of raised shelves.  There were
       already some candles on the shelves, and in the middle, at the
       top, was a framed photo of Jake - probably a school photo from
       this year or last, because it looked fairly formal and fairly
       recent.  On the window behind the table, a lot of smaller photos
       had been hung.  Mostly they looked like the pictures Mark would
       often take during practice for flyers and the website.
       The parking lot was hardly filled with people standing around,
       but it was honestly a bigger crowd than I’d expected, and more
       people were still arriving.  Some of the people were standing
       silently, while others talked quietly.  I looked around a bit
       and realized that I recognized a lot of people from school, even
       if I didn’t know them by name.
       I walked around for a few minutes, speaking briefly with people,
       and I was shocked. There were people there who’d played Little
       League baseball with him.  People who’d been on the middle
       school soccer team with him.  People he’d known in Boy Scouts
       and even Cub Scouts.  Friends from Church and people he’d known
       from community service projects.  There were even people there
       who hadn’t known him, but who’d heard he might be gay or that
       he’d been bullied, or even just people who knew that any loss of
       life should be mourned.
       Considering his mom said he didn’t make friends easily, it
       seemed like a big crowd.  They’d had to ask us if he was gay.
       His father flat  out denied it.  It made me wonder what else his
       family didn’t know about him, or if they just didn’t really
       care.
       A number of advanced students at the dojo were moving around,
       passing out candles to anyone who hadn’t brought their own.  I
       looked around and saw that Jake’s family had joined us, and room
       had been made for them at the front of the crowd, by the
       Coaches.  Coach Petersen saw me looking and waved at me.
       Reluctantly, I joined him.
       Someone had set up a speaker and Coach showed me how to use the
       microphone.  Then he gave me a candle and a lighter and left me
       alone in front of the crowd.
       I took a deep breath and spoke.
       “Excuse me.  May I have your attention?”
       There hadn’t been much noise to start, and what there was
       quickly died away, leaving only a faint breeze stirring.
       “We are gathered together tonight in memory of Jacob Joshua
       Landon.”
       I took a deep breath, then continued.
       “I did not know Jake long.  I only moved here in early October,
       but Jake was one of the first people I met.  Jake tended to be a
       private person, and there are many things I probably didn’t know
       about him.”
       I waved behind me at the table and pictures.
       “I didn’t know he’d played baseball until I saw some of those.”
       There was a mild chuckle.
       “What I do know is, Jake was a good friend.  He might not have
       been terribly outgoing, but he was very accepting.  He saw a new
       person, and he made me feel welcome.  He never made fun of my
       accent or the fact that English words sometimes slip from my
       memory.  He made me feel less alone.
       “What I do know about Jake is that he tried hard at school.  He
       was active in the community, and he was active physically.  He
       enjoyed coming here, and working out with me, and pushing
       himself.  He was a good student, academically and otherwise.
       “And he was active in his community.  You can see the examples
       right there,” I said, waving at the pictures again.  “He was
       active with his Church, helping people where he could.  He was
       active with Boy Scouts, and doing community service.  He even
       volunteered at the animal shelter, so he could help animals.
       “Jake Landon was a good person.
       “When I was asked to do this, I looked up the reason behind it.
       I found that lighting a candle signified that the person’s
       memory lives on and is burning bright.”
       I put the microphone down, picked up my candle, lit it, then
       pocketed the lighter, and picked the mic up again.
       “Jake’s memory does live bright inside me, maybe more so because
       I knew him such a short time.  Over the Christmas vacation, Jake
       and I went to an out-of-town grappling tournament and shared a
       motel room. I don’t remember what started it, but I remember
       wrestling around until we were both tired out - not caring who
       was winning or losing, but just having fun.  I remember going
       ice skating with him and finding out he’d never been. He just
       went because I wanted to do something that reminded me of home.
       I remember going Christmas shopping with him, and stopping for
       fresh cookies.
       “This candle represents Jake’s memory for me, and it does burn
       bright, but it symbolizes something else as well.”
       Adam and Walker were right in front of me, and I stepped
       forward, holding my candle out carefully, so they could light
       theirs from mine.  Then they turned and started spreading the
       light.  I stepped back onto the sidewalk.
       “To me, this candle symbolizes something Jake seems to have not
       known he had or had forgotten to look for.  To me, each of us is
       living in a circle of darkness, with nothing but a small light
       to illuminate it.  But, when things seem darkest, if you just
       look, you can find someone else’s light - someone who can offer
       help or who can just listen.  And, if enough of us gather
       together, like tonight, then our small lights can light up the
       darkness and illuminate us all.”
       I looked to the table and found the large, white candle that had
       been placed in front of his photo.  I leaned over and lit it.
       “I love you, Jake, and I miss you.”
       I turned the microphone off, set it down, and stepped into the
       crowd.
       #Post#: 30473--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty-One
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:38 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Have you ever noticed how it always seems to be raining at
       funerals in the movies?  I’m told that January is the driest
       month in Texas, so I guess there wasn’t much risk of that.  On
       the other hand, the day was overcast and grey and seemed
       perfectly suited.
       I was skipping the dojo again today, so I’d started with a heavy
       warm up, then a light weight workout, and now I was going to put
       in ten kilometers.  The playlist I’d chosen was loud and
       energetic - angry music: Eminem, Ice T, AC/DC, Metallica, Guns N
       Roses, Rage Against the Machine, Twisted Sister, Quiet Riot, and
       Bad Brains.  It was perfect for my mood, and I quickly got lost
       in the rhythm of the music and the beat of my feet on the
       street.
       When I finished, I walked a bit to cool down, then went in and
       did some extreme stretching.  Linda and Dee were up by then, and
       they offered to cook breakfast for me, but American comfort food
       did not sound good right then.
       I started water for coffee and oatmeal, put an egg on to boil,
       and dropped a bagel in the toaster.  Blueberries, almonds, and
       butter for the oatmeal, cream cheese and ham for one side of the
       bagel, and kaviar for the other, add an orange, and I’m ready to
       go.
       By the time I start eating, Dillon and Linda are almost
       finished, so I listen as they discuss their plans for the rest
       of the long weekend.  After a bit, they brought me into the
       conversation.
       “You have to be at the funeral early, since you’re a
       pallbearer?”
       “They asked if I can be there by 1:30, so they can go over a few
       things with me.”
       “And they’ll provide a ride to the cemetery?”
       I nodded.
       “Have you decided what you’re doing tonight?” Linda asked.
       “I really wanted to stay home, but many people asked me to watch
       movies at Walker’s.  I think they worry about me being alone.”
       “We could stay home tonight, if you want to come home but not be
       alone,” Dee suggested.
       “No.  I will go to watch movies.  I told  Walker only two movies
       though.  I am tired this week, and don’t want to stay out too
       late.”
       “I can imagine,” Linda agreed.  “Will you need a ride?”
       “No,” I said, shaking my head.  “If no one else is ready to
       leave, I can take an Uber.  Oh, and Dee, I owe you money for
       cleaning and shoes.  Should I Venmo you?”
       “You don’t have to pay me back for that, Sieger.”
       “Dee…” I started, but he ignored me.  “Linda?”
       “He’s right, Sieger.  We’ve told you before, we get money to
       cover your expenses.  Your allowance is for you.  Didn’t you
       miss your trip to the comic store this week?”
       I shrugged.
       “I have plenty to read.  I’ll just go next week.”
       “Okay, but don’t worry about money,” she said.
       “Now, what time are you supposed to be at Walker’s?” Dee asked.
       “Seven.”
       “Are you doing anything before that, or do you want to ride home
       from the funeral with us? Do you want a ride to Walker’s, for
       that matter?”
       “I think Debbie and Adam are going to pick me up for Walker’s.
       I’ll make sure to let you know.  A ride home from the funeral
       would be great.  Maybe I can take a nap before I go.”
       I was still a little hungry.  I debated back and forth, and
       finally took a banana, a bran muffin, and another cup of coffee
       to my room with me, so I could read until time to get dressed.
       About 12:30, I put my book down and had lunch.  A couple of laks
       and Jarlsberg sandwiches with carrot sticks and ranch dressing,
       then an apple for dessert, all chased by coffee, and I was ready
       to face the dreary afternoon.
       I brushed my teeth and made sure my hair looked okay to start.
       I’d already put on antiperspirant, and decided to do without
       body spray for this occasion, so I headed to my room.
       I hated wearing socks that came up my leg, but Pappa had always
       insisted they had to be worn for fancy dress occasions, so I
       reluctantly pulled them on - black, of course.  Undershirt and
       white dress shirt, add the black suit, and freshly shined shoes.
       I didn’t have a solid black tie, so I selected one with a
       subtle grey, diagonal stripe pattern.  The temperature was
       supposed to hover around eleven all afternoon, but I knew we’d
       be standing outside for a while, and it looked like there would
       be at least a mild breeze the entire time, so I added Pappa’s
       charcoal grey overcoat, and I felt ready to go.
       Dillon and Linda were just getting ready when I came into the
       living room.  Linda was wearing a black pants suit, and Dillon
       was dressed in charcoal grey slacks and a navy blazer.  They
       both looked nice, and I was sure I did, but Linda still insisted
       on fussing over me a moment before we could go.
       When we arrived at the church, I was shown to a separate area.
       Three other people were already there; a young adult, and two
       guys.  The young adult was one of Jake’s youngest uncles, and
       the other two were his cousins.  Mark was a college freshman,
       and Eli was 17.  The other two seemed okay, but straight-laced,
       but Eli seemed cool.  We were all dressed pretty similarly, so
       you couldn’t say too much, but Eli had his hair pulled back in a
       ponytail, and he was wearing earrings, so he was at least a
       little more relaxed.  After a couple of minutes, another young
       adult - the other of Jake’s youngest uncles - and Adam showed
       up.  The funeral director went over things with us: where we
       should be, and when and what we should do.  It really did sound
       like pallbearer was an outmoded concept anymore, but maybe there
       was something comforting in thinking about his friends and
       family carrying him to his final rest.
       After the funeral director left, Adam came over to me.  We
       hugged briefly, and he gave my hand a squeeze before stepping
       back.
       The funeral service was a funeral. It was made more interesting
       since I’d never been to an Evangelical service before and wasn’t
       sure what to expect, and I knew almost none of the music.  At
       least I knew “Amazing Grace,” which had always been Mamma’s
       favorite hymn, and she’d made sure I learned it in English.
       They didn’t say mass and the homily was different, but it was
       still somewhat comforting.
       When the service ended, people began to pay their final respects
       and leave the building.  The six of us waited until the funeral
       director motioned to us.  We stepped forward, and were allowed a
       moment.
       “It doesn’t look like him, does it?”
       I looked up to find Eli talking to me.  I shook my head.
       “His hair was never that neat,” I replied.
       Eli smiled at me.
       “He hated that.”
       “I told him it looked good,” I responded, “but he never believed
       me.”
       We shared a moment of memory, then stepped back so they could
       close the coffin.
       The six pallbearers rode together to the funeral, which I’d been
       told to expect, but I was a bit surprised when Eli made a point
       to sit beside me.  Once the car got moving, he leaned over and
       spoke to me very quietly.
       “Are you the one who told the police that Jake might have been
       bullied, and might have been gay?”
       I looked at him for a second, then nodded, though that wasn’t
       exactly what had happened.
       “Thank you,” he said.  “But there’s something you should know.”
       I remained silent, but nodded again.
       “Jake was gay, and I’m pretty sure your friend there was his
       boyfriend at one point.  I know that because Jake told me.  I’m
       not gay, but I don’t have any problem with it.”
       He paused for a second, taking a deep breath and glancing at his
       relatives, but then he went on.
       “I’m not gay, but Jake and I used to mess around some.  I’m
       about a year older than him, but we were pretty much the closest
       in age, so we hung out a lot when the family got together.”
       He paused again and bit his lip.  It seemed obvious he was
       nervous or uncomfortable, but he went on after a moment.
       “We used to mess around together.  I guess you could call it sex
       stuff, but we were pretty young.
       “The thing is, I spent a week or so at their house the summer he
       was twelve and I was thirteen, and Jeremy caught us... You know,
       playing with each other.  He whupped us both with a belt.”
       He must have seen my reaction, because he hurried on.
       “It wasn’t abusive or anything like that, but it was still
       pretty bad.  He didn’t tell Aunt Ruth, but he didn’t really let
       us be together alone the rest of the week.  I never went back
       after that, and he wouldn’t let Jake come to my house.
       “So, I just… Yeah, he was scared of his dad finding out.  I
       don’t know if that had anything to do with it, but I just wanted
       to let you know, and to tell you to watch out around Jeremy.”
       The graveside service dragged on too long.  I didn’t mind that
       it was cold, but I’d said my goodbyes, and it was going to be a
       long time before I was able to make peace.  I was more than
       tired - I felt drained, out of gas.
       Jeremy  Landon was sitting next to his wife, and I was right
       behind him.  He’d insisted Adam and I stand with the family.  I
       glanced behind me and saw Linda and Dillon, and I just wanted to
       go home.  I turned back to the service and watched while the
       preacher finished.  Ruth was crying softly, while her mother and
       husband tried to comfort her, and I thought how horrible it must
       be to lose your only child.  I dug into my pockets and found my
       handkerchief again, then dabbed at my eyes.  Adam saw, and took
       my free hand for a moment, giving it a squeeze.
       After the service, I waited while people lined up to offer
       condolences to the family.  When the surge had died down, Adam
       and I joined at the end.
       “Thank you boys so much for being here,” Ruth told us.
       I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so said the only
       thing I could think of - what I’d already planned.
       “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I tried to say clearly.
       “Jake will be missed,” Adam added.
       “By a lot of people,” Jeremy replied to us as we shook their
       hands.
       As we left, Adam headed towards where we could see several of
       our friends gathered.  I stopped him.
       “I’m going home.”
       “You’re still coming tonight?” he asked.
       I nodded.
       “I’m just really tired right now.  I need to get something to
       eat, try to get a nap.  But I’ll be there tonight.”
       He nodded, then looked around for a second, but stepped forward.
       We wrapped our arms around each other.  Nothing intimate - just
       two friends comforting each other.
       When Adam walked away, I looked around for Linda and Dillon.
       “Can we go home now?” I asked.
       I barely noticed them glance at each other, before taking me
       between them and heading towards the car.
       #Post#: 30474--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty-Two
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:47 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The ride home was pretty quiet.  Linda and Dee were talking
       some, but I just looked out the window.  They asked if I wanted
       to stop and get something to eat.  It had been a while since I’d
       eaten lunch, but I wasn’t very hungry, and nothing sounded very
       good anyway.
       When we arrived home, Linda insisted I wait while she got the
       thermometer.  I tried to explain that I was just tired.  The
       past week had been bad and busy and fuc‍ked up in so many
       ways, and I just wanted to rest a bit.  After finding out my
       temperature was normal, they told me to go take a nap.
       I turned away, but then turned back.
       “Linda, Dee - Thank you for going with me today.  I know there
       must have been things you’d rather do, but I appreciate you
       being there for me.”
       The two of them made kind of non-commital, ‘no need to thank us’
       noises, but I went on.
       “I know I haven’t always seemed real grateful about you taking
       me in.  As many things as I’ve come to appreciate here, I’d
       still rather be home.  But you both have been very kind… very
       gracious and generous, and I do appreciate it.”
       I stopped for a moment, but then I stepped up and gently hugged
       Linda.  I looked at Dillon for a minute.  He’d never been
       demonstrative with me, and I knew most American guys were really
       reserved, but he didn’t move to stop me, so I hugged him as
       well.
       I was surprised at how firmly he hugged me back.
       “Sieger,” Linda stated after a few seconds, “we’re happy to have
       you here.  You’re family, and you’ll always have a place here.”
       “Absolutely.  You’re my only sister’s only son, and we’re pretty
       much the only blood relative each other has.  As long as you
       need it, this is your home.”
       I know I was just tired and emotional from the funeral, but I
       was still tired of crying everytime a gnat farted, so I quickly
       turned away before they could see it and worry about me even
       more.
       “Well, thanks anyway.  I’m going to go lie down for a while.”
       I stripped out of my suit, and all I wanted to do was lie down,
       but Pappa had been a strict taskmaster about the proper care of
       good clothes.  The shirt was good quality, but it was still
       machine washable, so it just went into the hamper.  The tie went
       back to the tie rack.  The coat and pants were hung and brushed
       out.  I put the shoe trees back in the shoes, and the shoes back
       in the shoe bag.  Then, with a clear conscience, I set my alarm,
       shook out my comforter, and faded off to sleep almost as fast as
       Mr. Whiskers could settle down next to me.
       I was kind of disoriented when I first woke.  When I realized
       the alarm hadn’t gone off, I panicked for a second, until I
       checked my phone and realized I hadn’t slept that long.  I sat
       up on the side of my bed and took a couple of minutes to stretch
       and wake up a bit more, then walked into the bathroom.  After
       rinsing my mouth, washing my face, and getting a long drink of
       water, I felt much more awake.
       I had texts waiting from Walker and Adam both.  Adam wanted to
       know if they could pick me up about twenty minutes earlier than
       planned.  Walker had sent a group text saying they were getting
       pizza, told me what my share would be, and asked what kinds I
       liked.  He sent a separate one about the movies we were going to
       watch.  I really hadn’t felt like horror movies, and he’d given
       me veto rights if I promised to come.  I laughed at what he
       suggested and agreed to it.
       I sat on the bed and stared at the wall for a while before
       deciding I really needed a cup of coffee to get me going.  As
       the coffee brewed, I spent a few minutes arguing about what to
       wear, before I finally decided I didn’t really care - I wanted
       to be comfortable.  I ended up in dark blue sweatpants, a plain
       undershirt, and one of those ugly snowflake pattern sweaters all
       the old people in Norway seem to love and everyone seemed to
       have.  I figured it was good for a laugh.
       I drank some water and juice with the coffee and was actually
       feeling awake and much better by the time Adam and Debbie
       arrived.  A bit before they were due, I said goodbye to Dee and
       Linda and went out to the front yard to practice some tricking
       before they picked me up.  Since I had come to tricking more
       from my interest in cinematic martial arts instead of tumbling,
       there were some basic moves I wasn’t that good at, so I worked
       on my gainers and corks while I waited.
       Debbie and Adam arrived right on time, so I hopped in the back,
       and we took off.
       “That’s a very nice sweater, Sieger,” Debbie mentioned,
       confirming my theory that there’s something about adulthood that
       kills taste.
       “Takk, Debbie.  Why did you have to pick me up early?”
       “I wish you’d learn to use y’all,” Sieg.  It confuses me when
       you use ‘you’ like that,” Adam complained over his shoulder.
       “In Norwegian, we have ‘dere’ when we mean more than one, but I
       thought ‘you’ was singular and plural in English,” I replied.
       “That’s in English, honey,” Debbie answered me.  “We speak Texan
       around here.”
       I laughed a bit, not sure if she was serious or not.
       “Anyway,” she continued, “I guess y’all are having pizza and ice
       cream tonight, and we volunteered to stop and get the ice cream
       stuff, so we’re running to the store, and it was just easier to
       pick you up first.”
       “Don’t want the ice cream to melt on the way,” Adam added, and I
       thought about how weird it was to worry about ice cream melting
       outside in January.
       Thirty minutes later, Adam and I were walking up to Walker’s
       front door carrying six gallons of assorted ice cream flavors,
       enough crushed and chopped nuts that I was worried about
       squirrels trying to mug us, and enough different syrups,
       sprinkles, candies, and marshmallows to make me hope someone had
       insulin.
       Walker didn’t need a puppy with Tanner hanging around.  He must
       have been watching for us, because he came bursting out the
       front door as we approached.
       “Hey, are you okay, I didn’t get to talk to you this afternoon,
       do you know what we’re watching, let me help, what kind of pizza
       did you order, how late are you gonna stay,  I gotta be home at
       twelve…”
       “Breathe, Tanner!” Adam and I called out together.
       He stopped and looked sheepish.  “Sorry,” he said.  Only a
       little sheepish though.
       Adam and I each let him get a couple of the bags, and we all
       headed inside. Once I had a hand free, I mussed his hair.
       “Takk for sist,” I told him.
       He gave me a disgusted look.
       “I wish you’d stop that,” Tanner complained.  “I already have to
       take a foreign language to graduate, and they don’t offer
       Norwegian. You’re tryin’ to make me take two.”
       Ten minutes later, the ice cream was stored away, plates and
       napkins were set up in one spot, cups next to a huge variety of
       sodas, and sundae platters were set up with spoons in a kind of
       bar with all the toppings we brought.
       “Okay,” Walker said, looking around to make sure he was
       satisfied with everything.  “Mom will kill me if we make a mess,
       then probably track all y’all down to clean it up, so rinse
       stuff off and stack it, or put it in the trash, please.”
       He paused while we all agreed.
       “Okay, we’ll start the movies as soon as the pizza gets here.
       Oh, and if anyone has any change, I could use a little help with
       the tip.  The amount I sent you was just for the pizza and ice
       cream.”
       It still seemed weird to me that we were supposed to tip someone
       for doing their job, instead of their boss just paying them
       enough to start, but I threw in a couple of dollars, because I
       didn’t want to look stingy.
       “Now, you all know we had to work to get Sieger here tonight,”
       He waved at me, and I blushed and ducked my head, which seemed
       to amuse everyone.
       “So I promised him he could pick the movies, ”Walker went on,
       “but this afternoon he and I agreed on something a bit
       different.  I suggested a… category, and he agreed, and we’re
       gonna let  y’all vote.  Tonight, we’re going to watch some of
       the gayest horror movies ever made.”
       There were some cat calls and some whistles, but once we saw
       the actual titles we were going to vote on, everyone settled
       down.
       After the pizza arrived, and everyone was eating, Walker dimmed
       the lights, and turned on the TV.  We’d ended up voting for
       Forsaken and Jeepers Creepers 2.  I guess I don’t know what they
       mean by homoerotic.  Forsaken was about these two guys hunting
       vampires, and they formed a pretty good friendship, but it's not
       like they jumped in bed together or anything.  In Creepers, the
       monster was trying to eat a school bus with a high school
       basketball team on it.  There were a lot of cute, teenage boys,
       but the only one who seemed actually gay was the monster, since
       he seemed to like to eat the cute guys most.
       They were still pretty decent movies though.  They also weren’t
       very long, and it was barely past ten o’clock when we were
       finished, even though we’d wrestled around and taken a break for
       ice cream and stuff.  Tanner and Austin were both staying at
       Tanner’s house, down the block, and they didn't have to be back
       until midnight, and I didn’t have to be home at any certain
       time.  I still felt awake and ready to go.  We talked about
       watching Nightmare on Elm Street 2, which had been the third
       vote getter, but we finally decided to go back and watch the
       first Jeepers Creepers movie, since most of us hadn’t seen it.
       I’d claimed the same chair as last time, but when I came back
       from a bathroom break, Austin had claimed it and was fighting to
       keep his cousin from sharing it with him.  I checked the pizza
       boxes and found a couple of pizzas that looked like veggie, so I
       grabbed those and a soft drink, and went back to the chair.
       Adam held my plate while I picked Tanner up and sat him down
       next to me, then Adam joined us.
       I’m honestly glad I had Adam on one side and Tanner on the
       other, because the first Creeper movie got creepy as f‍uck
       in a few places, especially when Derry climbed down in that
       hole.  Tanner nearly jumped in my lap at that one, and he didn’t
       want to let go.  Not that I minded. He was a little young, but
       he was more cuddly than my teddy bear.
       Adam’s dad was picking him up at midnight, and they offered me a
       ride home. Tanner and Austin crammed in the car with us, because
       they didn’t want to walk even just a few houses down the street
       after that last movie.  Especially not when Logan kept singing
       ‘Jeepers creepers, where’d you get them peepers?’, as they
       headed towards the door.
       I really was tired by the time we got home, and I had to stop in
       the middle of ‘good night’ to yawn.  Still, I wasn’t collapsing
       in my tracks or anything.  Dillon and Linda weren’t home yet, so
       I very carefully turned on every light in the house, even though
       I knew no one was hanging around to eat my eyeballs or anything.
       Then I cleaned up and got undressed.
       Once I was ready for bed, I thought a few seconds and put on the
       Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s album.  It was the least creepy music I
       could think of that wouldn’t probably keep me awake.  I thought
       about turning off the lights, but I decided to let Linda have
       something to gripe at me about.
       Once in bed, I started feeling a little guilty, and I couldn't
       figure out why.  I started thinking about Eli and some of the
       other people I’d met at the funeral and vigil, and realized
       there were a lot of Jake’s friends I hadn’t known, just like
       there was a lot I hadn’t known about him.  I’d known he was a
       Boy Scout, but I hadn’t thought much about it, except it meant
       he couldn’t do stuff on Monday afternoons because of Scout
       meetings.
       I was wondering who else he hung out with, who else he did stuff
       with, if maybe he had another boyfriend whom I just didn’t know.
       I was really wishing that he’d made up with Adam sooner or
       stayed friends with the other guys, and I wished he’d joined us
       at the Halloween party.  I know he’s liked watching Krampus with
       us at the Christmas party, and I wondered if he would have
       enjoyed tonight.
       That’s when I realized that I was feeling kind of guilty… not
       exactly because Jake couldn’t do stuff with us; but...  I think
       it’s because I had done something, and I’d had a good time. Was
       I feeling guilty because I hadn’t been grieving for Jake? Had I
       already started to put him behind me?
       I tried to compare it to losing my parents, but it wasn’t the
       same thing at all.  Your parents are the biggest part of your
       life, and, even though teenagers like to act like we don’t need
       them, they’ve still been there our entire life, and they’re the
       foundation of everything else.  I hadn’t realized that until I
       lost mine.  Jake was a good friend, and maybe he could have been
       more, but he wasn’t my life.
       No, I think what was bothering me was I felt like I wasn’t
       grieving enough - not hard enough, not long enough.  I’d felt
       miserable that morning, so… I’d been told that funerals are for
       the living, and I guess that’s true.  It’s not that I wanted to
       forget Jake, and it’s not that I still didn’t miss him and
       grieve his loss.  It’s that…  It’s that his funeral had given me
       a real chance to say goodbye.  The funeral didn’t make me forget
       him, and I didn’t want to forget him.  Certainly the things I
       was working on now were for his memory as much as the future
       good they might do.  No, the funeral had just given me closure,
       and that wasn’t a bad thing.
       Suddenly I felt lighter than I had in days, and I surprised
       myself by being able to roll over and go right to sleep.
       #Post#: 30475--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty-Three
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 1:57 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       When my alarm went off the next morning, I was confused for a
       moment.  I was sure it wasn’t a school day, and it wasn’t until
       I realized it was Sunday that things clicked.
       I’d set the alarm so I could sleep in, but, with as late as I’d
       gone to sleep, I’d still gotten less sleep than usual.  I’d made
       sure I’d have plenty of time, though, so I decided to eat first.
       
       While waiting for water to heat, I texted Emil to remind him I’d
       be calling late.  After that, I flipped through my newsfeed and
       found a couple of stories to read.
       I’d shaved Friday, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it until
       next week.  After getting out of the shower, I just fixed my
       hair, then went to my room.  There were a couple of texts
       waiting for me.  One was from Emil and just said ‘looking
       forward to it’.  The other was from Janet’s friend, Kevin,
       making sure I still wanted a ride to church.  I let him know I
       did, and he confirmed what time he’d pick me up.
       I didn’t want to be too casual for this, but I also didn’t feel
       like being real formal after yesterday.  I dug around for a
       minute and found a blazer of Pappa’s that was a dark brown. I
       double checked and I had a good pair of dress pants that were a
       couple of shades lighter and a good, off white dress shirt.  My
       Bass Weejuns and a tie that matched the jacket, then a gold tie
       chain, completed the outfit.  It was still pretty cold, so I
       grabbed a medium weight coat, and I was ready to go.
       I timed it pretty close to exact.  I was just locking the door
       behind me when Kevin pulled into the driveway.  As I walked over
       to his car, he rolled his window down.
       “You Sieger?”
       “Ja.  You must be Kevin.”
       “That’s me.  Hop in.”
       I got in on the passenger's side.  Kevin was extending his hand,
       so I shook it, then fastened my seat belt.  He backed into the
       seat and we took off.
       “This your first time attending here?”
       “Yes,” I replied.
       “Didn’t you move here back in… November?”
       “October,” I corrected.
       “Weren’t sure about attending?”
       “I’m actually Lutheran -  Church of Norway.  Mont.. Father
       Cavanaugh invited me when we spoke this week.”
       Kevin laughed.
       “Don’t worry, he asks everyone to call him Monty, or maybe
       Father Monty if we’re at church.”
       We were both quiet a moment, then he reached over and turned up
       the radio, listening to some kind of hip hop.
       Kevin was some kind of east Asian, but I couldn’t really say
       what.  I think I can name most of the countries in that area,
       but I don’t know enough to even guess at all the ethnic groups
       there might be, much less to look at someone and say which one
       he belonged to.  It didn't really matter anyway, except
       curiosity.  He certainly spoke Texan better than I did.
       Once we arrived, Kevin was kind enough to show me around.  Then
       he introduced me to their youth group, many of whom were kids
       I’d seen around school at one point or another.
       A number of the high schoolers and a few other people sat
       together in one area, and they invited me to join them.  Several
       people made small talk to me until the service began.
       The service was… nice.  It was comforting.  It was different,
       but I’m honestly not sure how much of that was Episcopalian
       versus Lutheran and how much was just American versus Norwegian.
       It didn’t really matter though.  I’m not incredibly religious,
       but there was just something that felt fulfilling about being
       there.
       I actually did take communion from Father Monty.  We were hardly
       able to stop and chat, but he smiled when he saw me, and we gave
       each other a nod.
       I saw him after the service, talking to people, and I stopped to
       chat with him.  I was kind of surprised at how many people made
       a point of introducing themselves to me and welcoming me.
       Americans are scary in a lot of ways, but they’re amazingly
       friendly at times as well.
       “I see you accepted my invitation,” Monty said to me as we
       shook.
       “Yes, thank you very much.  This was really something I needed.”
       “I’m glad it worked for you,” he said with a smile, then looked
       more serious. “The funeral was yesterday?”
       I nodded.
       “How is his family?”
       “Okay?  As well as you’d expect?”
       He nodded this time.
       “It’s a terrible situation for everyone.  How are you?”
       I shrugged.
       “About the same as them.  I think I’m doing okay.”
       He reached out and rested his hand on my arm for a second.
       “It’s always hard losing someone, and your situation doesn’t
       make it easier.”
       We were quiet for a second, and I saw Kevin awaiting me, so I
       was about to excuse myself, when Monty spoke again.
       “I’d like to visit you again, just to talk a bit, if I may.
       Would you mind?”
       “No, that’d be fine.”
       “What about Tuesday afternoon, about five?”
       “I have MMA after school Tuesday and Thursday,” I explained
       “Well, maybe you’d like to join us for the Youth Ministry
       meeting after school Wednesday?  We’re usually finished by 6pm.”
       I thought about it for a moment, and agreed.  I still had plenty
       to read, so I didn’t need a visit to the comic store, and I
       could probably get Linda or Dee to take me Saturday.
       “Sure, that’d be great.”
       Emil and I talked for a while when I got home, but I’m not sure
       how much we had to say.  He was worried about me, interested in
       my church visit, and amused by our movie night.  Maybe he didn’t
       want to worry me, but he and Håkon were having a bit of trouble.
       
       I could pretty well understand it.  Of course, I didn’t know
       Håkon as well as I did Emil, but I know Emil loved marka.  As
       soon as Monday morning rolled around, it seemed all he could
       think of was Nordmarka Forest and what route we would take the
       next weekend.  From what I remembered of Håkon, he was a huge
       science geek.  For our science projects the year before, he’d
       built a kit robot and showed how to customize it.  I could see
       Emil becoming very frustrated with someone who’s idea of a fun
       weekend was staying inside to rebuild an old radio.
       I really did try to commiserate with him, but I have to admit it
       was a bit hard.
       It’s a bit hard to translate the next bit of our conversation.
       In Norwegian, we have different words for ‘love’.  ‘Glad i’ is
       the type of love you might have for your best friend, but
       ‘elsker’ is what you have for your children… or for your
       boyfriend.  Let’s just say that ‘like and love’ give the right
       idea, but aren’t really accurate.
       “I don’t know, Sieger.  I do love him.  He can be sweet and
       thoughtful and romantic, but… He’ll be wonderful for someone,
       but I just don’t know if that’s me.  Maybe things will change
       when the weather warms up, but I just don’t see us getting too
       serious.”
       He paused.
       “What about you and Adam?”
       I tried to think of the right way to phrase it, but I waited a
       moment too long.
       “You don’t just like him,” Emil said, a bit sadly, “you love
       him.”
       I nodded.
       “I do.  Emil, with Adam, I am… happy.  He makes me comfortable,
       secure.  Like you.”
       He looked up at me.
       “So?”
       “So, I don’t know.  There is no blame, Emil…”
       “But I’m the one who wanted to date others while you were gone?”
       I nodded.
       “But really, Adam and I haven’t dated yet.”
       “You slept with him,” he said, but as a statement, not an
       accusation.
       “Would you have had me not?”
       “No, I would have been angry if you hadn’t.”
       “Emil, I do know one thing.”
       “What’s that?”
       “I still want to come home to you.”
       He smiled at me.
       “And Adam?”
       “That… would make two things, and I only know one.”
       “I have to go, kjæresten min.  They just called my train.”
       He moved his phone so I could see he was at the depot from one
       of our favorite ski spots.
       “I should have known,” I said with a smile.  “Be safe.”
       I wandered into the kitchen to see about lunch, thinking about
       the call.  Linda and Dee were already there.
       “You okay?’ Linda asked.
       “Yeah, yeah I am.”
       “How was Emil,” Dee added.
       “Good, takk.”
       Dillon had made a squash and chicken casserole that I loved, so
       I put a big serving on my plate, got a piece of garlic toast,
       and sat down at the table.
       “Now, could you explain again why there is no school tomorrow?”
       I knew who Martin Luther King, Jr. was, and I knew in general
       why some people honored him, but America’s rather energetic
       two-party system left me confused about why there was a holiday
       for him.  After a bit, Linda and Dillon admitted they were twice
       my age, and they were still a bit confused by parts of it
       themselves.
       After lunch, I took a short nap, then did a light workout and a
       ten kilometer run.  The temperature was fourteen, and we still
       had nearly three hours of light, even though it was nearly two
       in the afternoon, so I decided to go bike riding for a while.
       Dalton had told me about a park out past the middle school,
       which was near Walker’s house.  He said it was about eight miles
       from my house, which I think was about thirteen kilometers, so
       it would only be twenty or twenty-five minutes as a bike ride.
       That gave me time to get there and back, and stop for a while,
       or just ride around, before it got dark.
       I let Linda know what I was going to do, and I took off.
       About forty-five minutes later, I was sitting on a table at the
       park.  I’d found the park pretty easily, then circled around a
       couple of times to find a convenience store.  I’d gotten a
       Gatorade and a bag of trail mix and went back.  After sitting
       down, I checked the time and found a text from Adam.
       ‘call me’
       I finished my snack and opened a video chat.
       “Hey, bro.  What’s up?” I greeted him.
       “Takk for sist,” he answered.
       I smiled and shook my head.
       “You’ve been practicing,” I laughed.
       “Just glad I didn’t screw it up.  Where are you?”
       I couldn’t remember the name of the park, so I just turned the
       phone so he could see, then showed him my bike.
       “Warm weather like this must be heaven for you, huh?”
       “Not really,” I answered. “I miss skiing.”
       “Skiing?  Seriously?”
       “Yeah.  Emil went this weekend.  We used to go almost every
       weekend.  Usually langrenn.. um .  Nordic? Ah - cross country.
       But sometimes we would go downhill. It cost more, but wasn't
       much further.”
       “Wow, that must be something.”
       “It is,” I assured him.
       “Look, the reason I called… Dad has to work tomorrow, but Mom is
       off, and she’s going into Dallas.  There’s this place she likes
       to go shopping, and she wants me to go with her, so she doesn’t
       have to drive by herself.  She’s bribing me, and promised I
       could drive, and we’re going to have brunch at this place she
       knows.”
       “Sounds like fun.”
       “Yeah, she wants to find a nice birthday gift for Dad.”
       “Good for her.”
       “I negotiated a little bit, and we’re going by this rock
       climbing place afterwards.”
       “Cool.”
       “Yeah, so.. .Would you like to go?”
       “Why Adam, are you asking me on a date?”
       “No. Of course not.  Just, you know, friends.  If it was a date,
       what would you say?”
       I smiled at him.
       “I’d say yes, of course.”
       #Post#: 30477--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty-Four
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 2:05 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Debbie and Adam weren’t picking me up until 9:15, so I had
       plenty of time for my morning run.  I wasn’t sure about the
       places we were going - to eat or the ‘climbing place’ - so I
       wore black gym shorts and a white rash guard under jeans and a
       black and red flannel shirt, with my red cross trainers, and I
       felt dressed enough for a casual morning and climbing.
       When they picked me up, Debbie made me promise not to distract
       Adam, since he hadn’t done a lot of highway driving yet.  I gave
       my word, and sat back to watch the scenery.
       The scenery wasn’t that much. Winter in Texas is blah.  It’s
       flat, and everything is brown and yellow.  Worse, there were
       billboards and buildings everywhere.  After a few miles, I just
       sat back.
       It was fun to watch Adam drive though.  He was being so careful,
       and trying so hard to be confident, but it was obvious he was
       nervous.  Not as nervous as Debbie was, though she was also
       trying hard to act blasé.
       “Are you okay, Sieger” Debbie asked, surprising me.
       I didn’t want to badmouth her home, so I spoke honestly, but not
       quite directly.
       “I miss the snow.  I miss the trees.  I miss people.”
       She was quiet for a moment.
       “I can imagine it’s a hard adjustment to make.  Oslo sounds
       beautiful.”
       “Ja.  Dillon and Linda say Texas is also beautiful.  They  have
       promised to take me to East Texas once the weather warms up for
       them.”
       Debbie turned for a second and smiled at me.
       “That should be nice.”
       I hope it will be as nice as the place they took me for brunch…
       In a different way, of course.  The cafe looked like it had been
       converted from an old house, since there were a number of rooms,
       each decorated in a different way.  They had a beautiful, brick
       patio, but Debbie and Adam both felt it was too cold to eat
       there.  Instead, we ended in a sunken room that had an ornate,
       cast iron railing along the raised walkway.  It also had several
       brick columns that gave it a very koselig look - very warm and
       homey.
       Our waitress was a nice looking,  young, blonde lady who had a
       slight accent.  After she took our drink orders and left, I
       asked Debbie, and she told me it was probably New England, maybe
       Boston.  That made it click, and I realized she sounded like
       Mark Wahlberg, but less husky.
       “Hey, vennen,” Adam told me cheerfully, “they have smoked
       salmon.”
       “True, but why should I order that?  I eat it at home all the
       time, and I make it the same way.”
       “What do you make at home?” the waitress asked, as she brought
       our drinks.
       “Salmon bagels,” I answered. “Not exactly like this,” I said,
       indicating the menu, “ but this is much hvordan mamma laget
       dem.”
       She looked at me a moment.
       “How your mother made them?  Is that Swedish?”
       “Norwegian,” I smiled at her.  “Veldig nærme.”
       “My grandparents are Danish, and I speak a little bit.  A very
       little bit.”
       I took a sip of my orange juice as she spoke, and then put it
       back down.
       “My morfar - my mother’s father - was from the Nederlands, and
       I’m named for him, Joep Sieger.  I go by Sieger.”
       “I’m Andrea,” she said, “but I go by Andi.”
       “A pleasure to meet you, Andi.”
       “So, if you’re not going to have the salmon bagel, what would
       you like?”
       They only had Italian roast coffee, so Andi suggested I try a
       Pu-erh tea.  She didn’t believe I was eighteen, much less
       twenty-one, which is required in Texas, but she did agree to get
       the bar to make me a virgin Diablo, which is their spicy version
       of a bloody Mary.  Debbie chastised me for even trying, and
       warned Adam not to, but also ordered a mimosa, since Adam was
       driving.
       The tea wasn’t coffee, but it was good, and I made a note of the
       name.  The Diablo was excellent.
       I started with homemade granola, then had a vegetarian benedict,
       which was wonderful.  I’m not positive, but I don’t think I’ve
       actually had Hollandaise sauce since that summer we spent in
       Paris.  I have to admit, Debbie’s Monterrey enchiladas and
       Adam’s chicken and waffles looked just as delicious as mine, and
       we ended up sampling back and forth before we finished.
       It was only a few blocks from the restaurant to the store where
       Debbie wanted to shop, and we ended up walking, just because we
       were all so stuffed.
       I can see why Debbie had wanted to come here.  It was some kind
       of antique shop. They had tons of stuff divided up into
       different areas, but the ones that were coolest were vintage
       records and vintage clothes.
       Adam explained that there were some albums his dad really wanted
       for his record collection, but he’d been collecting so long that
       the things he didn’t have, they couldn’t afford.  That didn't
       mean there weren’t other collectibles he wanted.  As for me, I
       was pretty sure I’d never spend two hundred dollars on a record
       album, but that didn’t mean they weren’t cool to look at.
       By the time we were through exploring all the neat shi‍t
       they had at the antique store, and Debbie was ready to go, it
       was nearly one o’clock.  It was still fun watching Adam as he
       drove and proved he was ready for his license, at the same time
       his mom was trying to act like she wasn’t scared to death.
       Debbie dropped us off at the rock climbing place, and said she’d
       pick us up at six p.m.  I wasn’t positive I wanted to stay that
       late, but we could always get Linda to pick us up, and Debbie
       could just get Adam at our place.
       I shouldn’t have worried.  Turns out they’d kind of forgotten
       that you had to have a waiver signed by your parents or
       guardians, which Adam did, but I didn’t, so Debbie turned around
       before she ever got home.
       Oops.
       Adam and I sat together in the backseat on the way to my house.
       In our driveway, I undid my seatbelt and leaned over to him for
       a quick kiss.
       “Maybe next date, we can be without your mother?” I suggested.
       “There’s going to be a next one?” he replied.
       I smiled and kissed him again.
       “Hands where I can see them,” Debbie commanded.
       Adam replied while also making his opinion on the command very
       clear.
       Getting home early was actually okay though.  I had a stack of
       emails to catch up on, and I was glad to have some down time
       before I had to head back to school.
       I was almost sick when I actually started into my emails though.
       Jim had really come through for me, and a local news program
       had agreed to interview me tomorrow, at the dojo, about Jake’s
       suicide, things that might have contributed to it, and things
       that might result from it.  Coach Hall had already agreed.
       I tried to remind myself that, not only had I asked for it, but
       it was an important part of the plan.  I tried to convince
       myself that this would be little different than acting in
       Theater.  Mostly I wonder where I’d been when everyone else
       queued up for brains.
       #Post#: 30478--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy Chapter Thirty-Five
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 2:12 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       You know how they say ‘time flies when you’re having fun’?
       Well, if you want it to really pass quickly, schedule something
       you dread for that evening.
       Walker already knew I was stressed out and why.  I’d called him
       for an update the night before, and vented a bit.  However,
       apparently my pålegg gave it away as well.  He came up to sit
       beside me at lunch, and that was the first thing he noticed.
       “Where’s all your usual, fancy stuff,” he asked, waving at the
       simple matpakke I was having today.
       I was only having two slices of bread with Jarlsberg and salami
       and two more with butter and ham, then an apple for dessert.
       “And that’s… pallick?” Tanner asked.
       “Pålegg,” I corrected him.  “The stuff you put on sandwiches.
       More of an ‘o’ than an ‘a’.”
       He nodded and repeated the word correctly.
       “Anyway,” I said, turning back to Walker.  “I didn’t feel like
       eating it today.  I don’t really feel like eating anything, but
       the last thing I need is to get halfway through and faint.”
       “Faint?” Devon asked, as Aiden chimed in with “Halfway through
       what?”, the two of them talking in each other’s mouth, or… on
       top of each other, I think is the weird American saying.
       “Sieger’s going to be on TV,” Adam answered as he set  his lunch
       tray down.
       Everyone turned to look at me.
       “Maybe,” I clarified.  “We don’t even know for sure, much less
       when.”
       “Nah,” Adam disagreed with me.  “Dad says it might not air on
       TV, but it will definitely be on their website.”
       I smiled, finished my lunch, and went to get some coffee.  For
       once, I got to go  by myself.
       During theater, Walker and I combined a couple of folders into
       reference material we expected to want during the interview.  We
       used paper clips to keep them organized.  Then, the last forty
       minutes of class dragged by in a few hours, and school was over.
       At least Walker was driving me, so I didn’t have to arrive all
       sweaty or anything.  Plus, I’d insisted he be there as well,
       though he didn’t seem nervous.
       Jim was there, which I really appreciated.  He didn’t really
       know the lady doing the interview any more than I did, but at
       least he’d talked to her.  More importantly, while we were doing
       the introductions, he handed me a cup.
       “Grande Pike’s Place roast, black?” he confirmed while handing
       it to me.
       “I love you,” I told him.
       “Now, now, let’s not make Adam… or Debbie jealous.”
       With coffee in hand, I didn’t feel any more confident, but
       slightly more comfortable.  It helped.  And yes, I know what a
       caffeine addict is, but it gets me through the day.
       The reporter explained to us that they’d already shot some
       material.  She walked us through what to expect and the general
       order we’d do things.  Coach Hall came out while she was doing
       that, and then they told us we were ready to start.
       The camera panned around for a moment, while the reporter
       explained where they were, then it focused in on her.
       “Last Friday, the parking lot of this dojo saw action of a
       different type, when it hosted a candlelight vigil for Jacob
       Landon, a recent suidice victim.  Today, we’re here to speak
       with the young man who organized that vigil, and who has other
       plans to remember his friend, Sieger Carlsen.”
       I did everything I could to ignore the lights, the camera, and
       to focus on the reporter, as I’d been told.
       “Thank you for being with us, Sieger.”
       “Thank you for having me.”
       “So, I understand you and Jake were close friends, but that you
       really didn’t know him that long?”
       I nodded.
       “Jake was one of the first people I met when I moved to the
       United States, but that’s only been a few months ago.  He and I
       did become quick friends.”
       “And you met here?”
       “Ja.  We were in the same class and we often warmed up together
       and paired with each other for our workouts.”
       “Could you tell us what happened with him?”
       “We just don’t know for sure,” I told her, and went on to
       explain the situation and what we did know.  I drew to a
       conclusion, and she nodded.
       “So while we might never know everything that was going on, it
       sounds like the police believe cyberbullying played a large part
       of it?”
       “That is true, as far as it goes, but it’s not the only truth.”
       “Oh,” she said, sounding interested and a bit shocked, which was
       good acting, since we’d discussed this as well as everything
       else.
       I nodded.
       “I have my beliefs about this situation, but it’s based on
       things I’ve been told.  As I said earlier, I’ve only lived here
       about three months.  However, the person who told me about it is
       Walker Wright.  Maybe you should talk to him for a minute?”
       Walker stepped forward right then.
       After exchanging greetings and introducing himself, Walker
       launched right into his topic.
       “I’ve been a student at our local high school for four years,
       and I’ll be graduating in just a few months.  During the time
       I’ve been there, Jake is the eighth student we’ve lost to
       suicide.  Now, as Sieger said, we don’t know Jake’s sexuality
       for sure, or if it played a role in what happened, but we do
       know that, of the other seven students, at least five of them
       were on the rainbow.  The saddest thing is that our school has
       nothing in place to support students who aren’t hetero/cis.
       People have tried to start such an organization, but a few years
       ago, a set of rules was put into place for various good reasons,
       but the result was to basically stop the creation of new student
       groups, including groups that could offer support to students
       who are struggling with personal issues and don’t know where to
       go or how to find help.”
       The reporter questioned him a bit, and he went out of his way to
       stress that he wasn’t accusing the school of any type of
       discrimination or bias, and, by doing that, he made it very
       clear that’s exactly what was happening.
       As I recognized the point they were approaching, I put down my
       drink, picked up the folder and selected a file from it, then
       waited.
       “So what would you like to see done?”
       I stepped forward again, and Walker faded back.
       “However good the reasons for the school’s current policy, I
       think we can agree that it has resulted in some harm. To that
       end, we have a couple of things we’re doing.  First of all,” I
       said, holding up the file and spreading the pages, so they could
       be seen, “we’ve reached out to a number of organizations that
       already exist, which we hope can give us some guidance in how to
       set up a chapter and get things moving properly.  Maybe, in that
       kind of situation, the school would see fit to - not alter their
       rules, but to allow an exception, perhaps?   And if not, we’re
       reaching out locally for other aid.  It would be ideal for us to
       be organized through and at the school, since the students are
       already there every day, but if we can’t have ideal, we hope
       that good will be better than nothing, so we’re trying to find
       someone else who could sponsor us and provide meeting space.  If
       not, we’re hoping to at least find someone who can help us with
       a fundraiser outside of school, so we can meet the school’s
       rules and get things rolling there.”
       With that, I stepped back with Walker, and the camera focused in
       on the reporter, who wrapped things up.  After that, she thanked
       us, while they started breaking down their equipment.  Walker
       apologized, but he had homework so he couldn’t wait for me.  I
       assured him that was fine, and reminded him I wouldn’t be going
       to the comic store tomorrow.  I said goodbye to Jim, then I was
       finally able to go in, change, and get in a workout, which I
       really needed.
       #Post#: 30479--------------------------------------------------
       All-American Boy
       By: Jack Date: February 25, 2025, 2:18 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Walker and Adam were waiting for me when I got to school the
       next morning.  The interview was already up on the local news
       website, and they’d cross-posted it on some social media pages.
       It was hardly going viral, but it had gained some attention.
       We watched it together, and it looked pretty good.  They had
       recorded a bit with Coach Hall talking about Jake, and a bit
       with Jake’s parents, as a lead in.  Someone had also recorded me
       talking at the vigil without letting me know, so I had to watch
       that.  Adam swore my accent wasn’t too bad, though I’m not
       positive he’s an unbiased judge.
       Of course, there is a downside to drawing attention.  Walker and
       I were both called into the office before lunch.  Fortunately,
       Walker had thought this might happen, and I’m still pretty
       paranoid about America, so I would have bet my allowance on it.
       We were prepared.
       The principal started off by accusing me of being a troublemaker
       and threatening to expel me.  I apologized that he thought so,
       but let him know that wasn’t going to happen.  He didn’t like
       that much, and said they didn’t have to ‘tolerate me disrupting
       the school’, I believe was his statement.
       “I’m sorry, but are you actually saying that me having an
       emotional reaction to my friend’s suicide was ‘disrupting
       school’ or do you mean when I defended myself and my friends
       from bullies who had already hurt them?”
       “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.  I’m talking about
       that ridiculous interview you gave last night.”
       “First of all, you have little right to worry about what I do or
       do not say off campus and in my own time.  Even according to the
       fifth circuit, which did allow the Tinker test to be extended to
       off-campus behavior in select cases, my behavior in no way could
       be seen as causing disruption.  While it was mentioned that the
       school had standards that prevented new student groups from
       forming, which actually violates our rights under the Equal
       Access Act of 1984, we did not criticize those rules in any
       way.”
       If Mr Keegan had much sense, he probably would have stopped
       right there.  When someone starts quoting legal cases to refute
       your arguments that they theoretically didn’t know you’d be
       presenting, you should probably guess there are owls in the moss
       and back off before you get stuck with your beard in a post box.
       I had the feeling that I’d offended his dignity by questioning
       his control, and the fact that he’d already had to back off once
       about me, barely a week ago, apparently had him very riled up.
       “You don’t tell me what rights you have,” he said, raising his
       voice yet again and making me wish he used Listerine strips,
       “you have the rights I decide you have when you’re on this
       campus.  I will…”
       I held up my hand, and he stared  at me in astonishment.
       “What?”
       “This is obviously not going to be productive.  I’d like to go
       back to class.”
       “You’ll be lucky if you ever go back to class in this district.
       What the…”
       “I’d like you to contact my guardians and my lawyer before we go
       on then.  They’re expecting your call.  I have my lawyer's card
       right here with the number.”
       As soon as he made it clear that wasn’t going to happen, I
       leaned back, crossed my legs, smiled, and started translating
       his rant into, first German, then French.  I never was as good
       at those as English and Norwegian, and I was worried about
       getting rusty in them.
       The slight smile and casual posture seemed to infuriate him,
       which it was really meant to do. I let him rant at me a few more
       minutes, ignoring him almost completely, until he paused.
       “I’m returning to class now.  This is a waste of our time.  If
       you feel like expelling me or calling the police,”
       I paused while I reached into my pocket and removed my phone.
       “Please be aware that I have a complete record of this
       conversation, including you denying my basic legal rights even
       exist, and refusing to contact my guardians and lawyer when I
       asked, which I believe you’re required to do under Texas law.
       You also continued questioning me when I asked for it to stop
       and for you to contact them.”
       I paused and made sure to look him right in the eyes.
       “This program saves the recording directly to the cloud, so even
       if you wanted to try to steal my phone and I let you, it would
       do no good.  May I return to class?”
       Fortunately they’d called me out of class in fifth period.  I
       took my time walking back, stopped in the bathroom, and stopped
       for some water, arriving only a couple of minutes before the
       bell rang.  I was worked up, the adrenaline was pumping, and I
       knew I had to be really careful not to do anything even slightly
       wrong right now.
       Tanner sat down almost as quickly as I did.  He’d brought a
       matpakke of his own, and the two of us sat quietly, assembling
       our sandwiches, after only a quick greeting.
       I’d splurged on lunch, because I was sure today wasn’t going to
       be a good day, so I had many of my favorites.
       It took me longer to finish eating than normal, largely because
       of people stopping by wanting to talk to me about the interview,
       and a few wanting to stop by to call me names.  While the video
       still hadn’t gone viral, it had been shared by several of our
       more social media savvy fellow students, and there were several
       videos that had been seen by hundreds of people.  Most of those
       hundreds apparently wanted to stop by while I was eating.
       Finally, when the visits seemed to have stopped and I’d finished
       my lunch, I pulled forth dessert with all the respect and
       reverence it deserved.  A thick slice of Norwegian gold cake,
       which I carefully topped with heavy cream, and then I spread
       some of the cloudberry preserves Hilde had sent me for
       Christmas.
       I picked up my fork and prepared to dive into it, when I
       realized I was the center of attention.  Seven other pairs of
       eyes had been watching as I gave the cake the respect it
       deserved.
       No one said a word.
       I sighed and did the right thing, dividing the cake into eight
       equal partitions and sharing it out to my friends.
       After we’d all enjoyed our bites, we cleaned our table, and I
       demanded everyone go with me for coffee.  For once, they all
       did.
       Once everyone who wanted one had drinks, we gathered in a
       circle, and I explained how cloudberries are mostly found in the
       wild, in arctic marshes, which explains why they’re so rare and
       so expensive.
       And at least the coffee shop had a slice of lemon-orange glazed
       pound cake to sooth my lonely palate.
       Before lunch ended, Walker and I found a secluded spot where we
       could contact his parents and my guardians without worrying
       about accusations of misuse of technology.  After that, we
       shared copies of the audio files of our discussions with the
       principal, so we each had both copies of both conversations.
       Then we shared those files with the First Amendment lawyer Dee
       had found who’d been willing to discuss the issue with Mr.
       Keegan, if it became necessary.
       I was finally able to relax and start getting back into the
       swing of things, only worrying a little bit about the other shoe
       dropping.  Of course, I started tensing out again when I
       realized that auditions were in only two days, and I hadn’t even
       started practicing yet.
       Sigh.
       After school, I stayed with Walker long enough to greet everyone
       going to the comic store, and then I left to meet with Kevin who
       gave several younger members of the youth ministry a ride every
       week.
       Once we were all there, I squeezed into the back with a couple
       of girls.  Kevin was playing something that was apparently
       Christian hip hop, something which I’d never actually known
       existed, and really could have lived without ever knowing it.
       On the other hand, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the death metal
       Pappa had sometimes listened to, so I mostly tuned it out and
       enjoyed the ride.
       Kevin was explaining to me what would be occurring, when Monty
       saw me and waved.  He was with another priest, who turned out to
       run their youth ministry, and he came over to introduce himself.
       “Father Samuel Ford,” he said, holding out his hands. “Sam.”
       “Sieger Carlsen.  How do you have it?.”
       “Excuse me?”
       I blinked.
       “Sorry, sometimes I slip into direct translations when I’m
       tired.  I mean… uh, pleasure to meet you,  How are you?”
       He smiled.
       “Monty said you speak very good English, but you’re actually
       Norwegian?”
       “Norwegian-American, as everyone keeps reminding me.  But I grew
       up mostly in Norway - never lived anywhere but Europe until a
       few months ago.”
       “Well, I am fine, thank you, and it’s a pleasure to meet you as
       well.”
       I was blushing, and not quite sure he wasn’t making fun of me,
       but he was so nice about it, I just couldn’t take offense.
       Between Kevin and Sam, they gave me a run down on what to
       expect, and showed me around their Youth House, which included a
       place for people who needed help with homework, or were just
       tired of having to sit home, alone every day to work on it.
       Sam excused himself because it was about time to get things
       started, but he encouraged me to help myself from their snack
       board, where Kevin already was.  They presented an excellent,
       healthy selection, and I quickly helped myself to some sharp,
       white cheddar, wheat crackers, a pear, and some sparkling grape
       juice to chase it all.
       Janet and I saw each other, and she waved at me, so I sat down
       next to her.  She asked why I’d been pulled out of our maths
       class, and I was trying to explain it without going into too
       much detail, when Sam suggested we open with a prayer.
       One of the older guys, who must have been a senior, or maybe
       even a college student, led the prayer, and then Sam spoke
       again.
       “Most of you know that our youth ministry has four main goals:
       to help each of you as you transition from childhood to
       adulthood, to answer your spiritual questions, to identify those
       of you who have a calling for the ministry, and help you develop
       it, and to help all of you learn to make a difference in the
       world.  Today, we have a guest who is trying to do just that.
       Sieger, could you stand up please?”
       I didn’t want to stand up.  I wanted to sink into the ground.  I
       wasn’t trying to make a difference in the world.  I was just
       trying to do something for my friend's memory.
       Still, I stood.
       There was a polite, murmured greeting, with a few waves, and I
       was allowed to sit back down.
       From there, the lesson got more comfortable, as we talked about
       suicide, recognizing when people were having problems, and
       different ways to reach out.  Okay, it wasn’t comfortable, but
       at least I wasn’t feeling humiliated by the topic.
       After the discussion, everyone broke up to play games.  Janet
       and Kevin invited me to play Uno with them, which I hadn’t
       played for a while, and it was quite a bit of fun.
       When our first game ended, they decided we had time for another,
       but Monty interrupted and asked if he could borrow me.
       “Let’s see. I guess first should be, it was good to see you
       Sunday morning, what did you think?”
       “Well, it was good.  I’ve never really been an every Sunday type
       of person, but it felt good to be there.  Honestly, it was a bit
       different than what I’m used to, but I’m not sure if that was
       Episcopalean versus Lutheran, or American versus Norwegian.”
       Monty nodded and smiled.
       “I can see that,” he said.  “Everything must be a bit of culture
       shock for you.”
       “You don’t know the half of it.  Everything seems so nice and
       calm compared to what I expected when they said I’d have to move
       here.  Then I see someone walking down the street with a gun,
       and I assume I’m about to die.”
       He nodded again, without the smile.
       “I can understand that.  I’m from the U.S., and that still
       disturbs me.  Do you watch a lot of American TV and movies over
       there?”
       “Oh, yes.  Sometimes I think that’s why we take so much English
       in school.”
       That drew a small laugh.
       “So, have you spoken to Whit again?  Are you doing okay?”
       “Yes, and fine.  Whit called… Monday afternoon, I guess.  He
       asked how I was doing, and said he could see me for a couple of
       follow-ups with no charge, if I wanted.  I don’t really think I
       need to see him, but I also know I’m not the best judge of that,
       so I’m going to see him next Monday, and let him decide how he
       thinks I’m doing.
       “As for me,” I continued, “I really do think I’m doing okay.
       I’m tired and stressed, but I made sure not to plan anything for
       Saturday, except my MMA training, so I can get some extra rest
       and catch up on some reading.”
       “That’s a good plan,” he agreed.  “It seems obvious you get
       plenty of exercise, and making sure you get enough rest is
       important.”
       “And honestly,” I answered, “I think getting through the funeral
       helped.”
       “Yes, as hard as they can be,” Monty pointed out, “they give us
       closure and a real chance to grieve.  That’s important for
       people to have.”
       I nodded, and we spent a moment in silence before he spoke
       again.
       “From watching you earlier, I have the feeling you don’t want to
       discuss this, but I’ve seen the interview you gave.”
       I tried not to squirm.
       “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.  I’m just kind
       of…”
       “May I take a guess?”
       I was a bit nervous about this, but I shrugged, then nodded.
       “I think you’re very passionate, and you tend to be direct, but
       you’re also a bit modest.  That ends up putting you in a
       position where you draw attention on yourself, then end up
       regretting it.”
       I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I said the only thing that
       came to mind.
       “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who’d accuse me of being
       modest before.”
       “Be that as it may,” he replied.  “I was actually going to ask
       about ideas you’ve had for fundraising.”
       “The problem with fundraising is, unless you’re just going to go
       around begging for money, it comes down to either doing
       something that people will pay to come to, or selling something.
       For selling, you have to have something to sell, which usually
       calls for either a sponsor or money up front.  For an event, we
       have to have a venue - someplace to hold it - and honestly, most
       ideas we had are going to cost money.”
       I paused.
       “I had really wanted to put on a production of Spring Awakening,
       maybe Rent…”
       “Those would certainly be relevant to this situation,” Monty
       said, shocking me that he was even familiar with them.
       “Yeah, but even if they gave us the license, and it would take
       time to get that, and we couldn’t start doing anything until we
       heard from them, you’d still have to have money for costumes and
       props. And that still leaves the question of venue.
       “Once upon a time, dances were a big thing for schools.  I
       suppose they’re rather passé these days, but maybe that would be
       a point in their favor.”
       “Yeah, but that brings us right back to venue,” I answered,
       turning to look out the window.
       “Yes,” he said with a sigh.  “I can certainly see your problem.
       It’s too bad you don’t know someone - a priest or someone - who
       believes in your cause and has access to a community center that
       could host a few hundred people.”
       I snorted.
       “Yeah, that would certainly solve a lot of…”  I paused.  “Isn’t
       sarcasm a sin, Father?’
       “Not even venial, my son.”
       Monty explained to me that this was not a one hundred percent
       done deal yet, but his rector - who is the person who runs the
       local church - had approved it, but wanted to check with their
       bishop before we actually  began planning it, since it did
       involve helping an outside organization.
       Even so, it was a huge weight off my mind.  It meant I could
       take a couple of days and pretend this was actually going to
       happen.  Beyond the actual approval, Monty had four major
       concerns that we needed to think about.  He discussed those with
       me, so I could be thinking of solutions, though he already had
       an idea for some of them.
       With that, and feeling a great deal of relief, I went to rejoin
       the other guys, and found Kevin getting ready to depart.
       *****************************************************
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