All tries to explain seemed worthless, even if never getting the chance to climax until later, made a mess, but nobody knew of it but disgraced me. People will think what they wish, and talk, they look to those in authority to be as quick to judge. News that demeans a person tends to spread quickly, people, friends too, like to read about all the sordid details, as if the reporter assigned was there in that bedroom and taking dictation.
Sex and the act of pleasure seeking is a commonality in high school, hormones run high, and if not caught doing it, all who try and learn go one to try, do, and enjoy life. This is where I in my life path came to a halt. The newspapers stated the needs of the public. The school principle added his two cents, he expelling me in my senior year, forcing me to take the year over again, humiliated then into some sort of social submission.
As defamed and forced out of school early, not allowed to do home study, not allowed to graduate, everything that seemed so well planned fell apart.
Family and friends began judging without asking, and for this reason, dear Mom thought it wise for her son to do what his grandfather did to turn his wayward son into a man.
A family argument ensued for several weeks until Mom stood her ground and forced that nerd son to agree. She argued about sending me to live with her Uncle Ned. I wanted nothing to do with our family eccentric, that crotchety old Uncle Ned, he never venturing away from his small farm, never coming to visit us.
Mom on various holidays went to pay her elderly Uncle a visit, she staying there for a whole day, not returning home until late at night. I worried about Mom, as when she returned home she always smelled vile, as sweaty, and had the scent of animals about her.
Uncle Ned was rarely mentioned by anyone of the other aunts and uncles, as if he like I was a family outcast.
Proper then when mom came to me and forcibly informed me of my change of residence, me going to spend all summer with Uncle Ned.
Edmond “Ned” Flycatcher is what I read his name printed boldly on the rural postal box setting at the end of his long driveway.
He had a kooky last name that sticks still in the mind, and says a lot about what he did, doing more than operating a small farm, he was a fly catcher!
Flies as those in a family that were a pest, he would capture and with time change attitudes, giving direction, the pest would return home different than when they had left. No more would they flutter about in trouble or making problems, but from what mom told about her uncle, he was a man among men, a rare commodity, someone I would learn to trust as he would teach the basics of what is life.
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