I remember the first time being called queer, except for the times David did, was at camp that summer. My group was sitting together before our activities started, all together except for me and Norman. When the counselor wanted to know why we were not part of the group most of the boys laughed and one called out, “because their queer.”  

But you know even though I’d never been called that before I knew I was and I really didn’t think I cared. I could tell by the way Norman hung his head that he didn’t feel the same.

You see, Norman and I rode the same bus to camp and when I got on that first day the seat next to him was empty. There was plenty of room on the seat but when the bus made the first turn Norman let his body slide over next to me. The first time it happened and our arms and legs that stuck out of our camp T-shirts and shorts touched I really didn’t pay much attention and he slid back over. But when he let it happen again neither one of us moved. I still wasn’t sure what was going on but I liked the feel of his bare leg against mine and when I looked at him I caught a smiling face that spoke all the truth I needed to hear.

Like I said we ended up in the same group, the “Rangers.” It seemed like the other boys could tell right away. ‘Cause they ignored both of us even before they laughed and called us queer. But it was alright, we had already decided that day on the bus to become best friends at camp.

He was just like David and me. During the day we kept on lagging behind the other boys so we could talk. And boy did we talk. I told him stuff that I never told anybody except David.

 “Do you feel something inside of you Norman? Something that is telling you stuff about other boys and you don’t know what to do about it?”

He nodded and smiled. “That’s why they called us queer.”

I found out at camp there were a whole lot more boys who felt the same as my cousin and only a few if any other then Norman who were like David and me.

Every morning I couldn’t wait for the bus to stop at my door. Norman always saved the seat next to him so we could have our legs touching. Buy the time the two weeks of camp were over our legs weren’t only thing that had touched.

During the second week of camp it was real hot everyday and we were allowed to take our T-shirts off. After lunch on Monday was the first time. Some of the boys in our group wouldn’t take theirs off but Norman and I were the first two who did.

I noticed two of the boys who still had their shirts on whispering to each other and pointing at Norman and me. After about ten minutes I asked them, “what’s the matter.”

They just laughed and Norman told me to forget about it, but I couldn’t; after all, camp was going to be over in a few days and I couldn’t let them get away with it.

“What the matter! Why do you keep laughing at us?”

When they wouldn’t answer that was it. I couldn’t hold back any longer and I ran and jumped on them, swinging my arms and letting my fist land where the may.

By the time the counselor pulled me off all three of us were full of blood. I had it on my hands and chest, but it wasn’t mine. They had a lot more on them. It ran out their noses and on to their shirt, shorts and even their arms and legs. They were really bloody.

When I turned around Norman’s face was pale and his mouth was hanging open. No sounds came out when he tried to talk. Just the opposite of the back up I was looking for. But then something really strange happened, I didn’t get in any trouble.

I thought for sure when the counselor put his hand on my shoulder he was taking me straight to the office, but he didn’t. No, instead he motioned to Norman to go with us and we walked into the gym and he told me to clean myself up while he talked to Norman.

After about five minutes of washing my hands and chest I got all the blood off.  When I came out Norman was smiling as he sat next to the counselor who had his arm around him. When I sat down the counselor put his arm around me too.

I wasn’t sure about what was going on but as he talked to both of us and told us he had been expecting this to happen, I knew one thing, our counselor thought boys were cute too.

For the rest of the week there were no more fights ‘cause the counselor let Norman and I stay to ourselves, behind the other boys. In the afternoon, when we took our shirts off, Norman and I would pretend to wrestle and then laugh when we saw the front of our pants.

We both left our shirts off on the way home too. When the bus made the first turn Norman would let his body slide over and every part of us that was naked touched. It made me smile and Norman too. We laughed again at our shorts. 

At night when I went to bed and put my hands under the covers, Norman took David’s place in the stories I made up.

Even though we rode the same bus Norman didn’t live close to me. He went to a different private school too. We both knew when camp was over we’d probably never see each other again.

On the bus ride home that last day the skin on our shoulders and arms and legs wasn’t all that up against each other. I had my right hand and Norman his left on the seat one on top of the other.