A CHRISTMAS STORY OF FICTION BY CATMAN
PART 1 of 4
I grew up in the big city where Christmas was always magical! Everything in New York is larger than life, especially during the holiday season. As a small child I was enthralled with the lights, the sounds, the store window displays, ice skating at Rockefeller Center, the big Macy's parade. I couldn't wait each year for December and would begin composing my letter to Santa in early July.
The year I turned 12, my entire idyllic life suddenly changed. Dealing with going through puberty was difficult enough. I will never forget the date: Tuesday, December 23rd, 1999 at 2:17 AM. I was sexually molested by my Uncle Dave, a guest in our house. I remember it like it was yesterday. He preformed oral sex on me and forced me to do the same to him. I felt ashamed, humiliated and used by him. That night, I lost my "innocence"! I was totally confused and It totally took the joy out of that Christmas.
I kept the secret from my parents. My "Grandpa Jack" recognized that there was something wrong with me. He was the only one I could ever confide in, because he always took the time to listen to the things I had to say. I couldn't bring myself to give him details, I just said: "Uncle Dave did something to me. Actually, I kind of liked it!" He went to my parents and they dismissed it all. "Clay has always had an over-active imagination. He probably just dreamed it up."
Grandpa Jack wasn't so convinced. He took me under his wing and was over-protective of me for the next few years. The two of us really bonded and I felt closer to him than to my parents. And then...
I was the one who found him. Grandpa Jack had a massive stroke and died on Christmas Eve near the tree I had helped him decorate. I was totally devastated and the holidays would never be the same for me again. For years, I avoided the Christmas season because of the bad memories.
It took a whole year of intense therapy to come to the realization that Uncle Dave hadn't turned me gay. I was gay, just because, I was gay! He had just been a really bad first experience. Free of all of the demons, I couldn't count the number of people I invited to share my bed.
However, all of the therapy in the world couldn't renew my old love of Christmas. For years, I ran away from the city to hibernate, by myself, for much of the month of December.
Christmas 2012 was approaching. The malls and department stores had already begun installing their Christmas decorations before Halloween! ( Each year, it seems like they start earlier.)
I had made some preliminary plans for my secluded escape this year. I had heard about an old Victorian Gay Bed and Breakfast in up-state Connecticut that offered some private cabins on their property. I reserved a cabin and sent a deposit. Thanksgiving weekend, I received an odd text message on my phone: "FROM NICK...I'VE MISSED YOU!"
I couldn't recall knowing anyone by the name of "Nick" and dismissed it as someone who texted to the wrong number. I forgot about it, until a week later and listened to a voice message on my phone...
"Hey Clay, It's Nick! Are we still on for December 20th to Jan 4th? I'll be waiting for you in Connecticut. The cabin is great and you'll love it. It's really secluded. I'm really looking forward to seeing you again!"
What the.....??? I didn't have a clue who this guy was! Somehow he knew my name and all of my plans. After I listened to that message several times, I still couldn't identify that voice. Yet, it sounded strangely familiar.
I felt like I was loosing my mind! I always spend Christmas alone! Why would I make plans with someone else? I'm a really private person and don't share with other people. I racked my brains to try to remember if I knew a "Nick". Was he an old work-out buddy at the gym? Maybe someone I knew from the bars, or one of my tricks? Absolutely nothing came to mind.
I finally decided that I would solve the mystery of "Nick” by driving to the cabin in Connecticut on December 20th.
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