The idea that an adult mentor should teach a boy how to be a professional person, to be a social person, to be a romantic person.The idea that an adult mentor should teach a boy how to be a professional person, to be a social person, to be a romantic person... that an adult should forge such a close and intense relationship with someone as they help that someone into adulthood... and to not teach, by action and example as well as lecture, how to make love... is a specific of your twentieth-century NorAmerica Earth. It's not true of other places, other times, and other worlds. You know it and I know it. "As you said, I'm not going to lie to you. I like flying with Khai. I like dancing with him. And I like fucking him. And let me ask you which you'd rather have Ken... me, or someone else? Who do you trust?" I ignored his question. "Where are his parents? Do they know?" "He has chosen to tell them. They know." "They do?" "Yes. Why don't you ask them about it?" "I believe you," I said. "Damn you and your honesty." He smiled. "Would you have me any other way?" We were silent, staring at each other. "Ken, please... tell me what you're thinking." "What happens to them?" I asked, ignoring his question. "Like I said, they grow out of it. They start to appreciate that they need someone in their own peer group to play with, to know and love. That I was there to teach them how to be in the world, but I'm rarely really a part of their world. I'm part of yours, Ken. They know that. I'm part of a different world they really aren't interested in being a part of. Our interests just sort of overlapped for two or three or four years. "I still love them; I always will. But they..." He paused. "They take wing and leave the nest. They move out of their parent's house and they cease to need me anymore. The interests they want to pursue on their own, as adults now, take up more and more time. They call less often." He reached up and wiped a tear from his eye. |