Chapter 8

Leo’s roommate his senior year was an unexpected freshman surprise. To begin with, he had not received notice from the Dean of Resident Life all summer that he would even be having someone in the room with him. Based on his past roommate selection failures, he had not bothered to contact anyone else on campus to come and join him at McCleary. He was hoping that he could have his room all to himself, therefore.

When he walked into his room that first day back and saw this gangly guy who had made up the bed that had been his for the past three years, he recoiled visibly. “Who are you?”

Managing a timid smile to accompany the blush that came to his cheeks, the boy said, “I’m Greg Lightman, your roommate.”

Leo made no attempt to disguise his annoyance. “That’s my bed you just made up, you know. And I wasn’t informed I even had a roommate.”

Sounding thoroughly apologetic, Greg said, “I wondered why I hadn’t heard from you all summer. They sent me a letter in June telling me you were a senior. And I thought to myself, ‘Good, someone who can show me the ropes.’ I really thought I’d caught a break.”

“Well, I didn’t get any such letter,” Leo told him. “That’s why you didn’t hear anything from me. Must’ve been a glitch on their part.” Leo paused and realized that neither of them were responsible for what was happening at the moment and decided to soften his tone.

“Would you do me a favor and take the other bed, please? I’m used to that one you just made up with those linens and plaid bedspread of yours.”

“Sure,” Greg said, sounding eager to please.

Leo began putting some of his things into drawers and watched his new roommate transferring the linens from bed to bed out of the corner of his eye. Greg was about the same height as he was, only not particularly filled out yet. His hair was a much darker shade of red than his, but there were no freckles on his face. To the casual observer, the two boys might have even come off like brothers, even though Greg had dark brown eyes, and Leo had inherited his mother’s blue eyes.

After the roommates had settled in completely an hour or so later, mostly in silence, they sat on the edge of their beds and eyed each other somewhat awkwardly.

“I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt with you a while back,” Leo said. “It’s just that you really were a surprise to me standing there like it had always been your room. I’ve made a lot of memories here these past three years, and I guess I came off as a bit territorial. Seniors can get like that, I guess.”

Greg managed a smile. “I understand. I guess I shouldn’t have been the first to arrive and make decisions about the sleeping arrangements. Maybe I should have waited for you to show up.”

That seemed to finally break the ice, and Leo said, “Listen, I’m really not a bad guy to live with. I write a column in the Sewanee Purple in which I try very hard to find humor in college life if I possibly can and refrain from making too many comments about how bad the food is in the cafeteria. Believe me, it’s the same old thing every day of the week. We’ve even had food fights to protest, turning over tables, making bunkers out of them and throwing some unbelievably hard biscuits at each other. Also, I’ve changed my major from Music to English and back to Music, and I don’t snore. At least, not that I know of. I’ve had a roommate or two that did, though. I don’t think they were ever aware that I would reach over and hit them in the face a couple of times with my pillow to make them wake up with a snort and stop. You don’t make all kinds of noises, do you?”

Greg nodded and kept smiling. “Don’t think so. I guess you’ll tell me if I do, though. As for declaring a major, I don’t have any idea yet. I wonder how many freshmen actually do. I talked a little bit to the two guys in the other half of the suite, and they said they’re gonna take it all one step at a time. Looks like you’ve got three freshmen on your hands.”

Leo winced slightly and said, “That’s why I think Sewanee’s liberal arts approach is the way to go, unless you’re determined to become a doctor or a lawyer. Then, the path is pretty clear.”

What was not clear to Leo was how much effort to put into his friendship with Greg. There was the obvious difference in age, no opportunity to take the same classes, and only a couple of hours at night after dinner in the cafeteria to catch up on anything that might be going on in their lives. True, the Vietnam War came up now and then, especially their opposition to it. Watching the latest reports on the evening news with Walter Cronkite on Mrs. Browning’s set kept them well-informed on the latest, and they realized that at least their politics were the same.

Despite all that, however, a bond began to form slowly between the two through pop music. At bedtime, Leo would tune his radio to WLS in Chicago, and they would listen to the Top 40 hits of 1967-1968 together, discovering that they liked the same tunes. Two in particular seemed to have been produced just for them. The first was “I’d Like To Get To Know You” by Spanky and Our Gang. The beguiling lyrics and melody invited anyone listening to get closer to someone else they knew; and Leo was sorely tempted to ask Greg if the song made sense to him that way and if they should do anything about it. Yet, he did not follow through. And then there was epic “McArthur Park” by Richard Harris, the unlikeliest of recording artists. The high notes he tried for amused both of them to no end, as did the psychedelic lyrics promoting leaving cakes out in the rain and other cryptic, hippie-flavored images.

“I can’t believe that’s a song,” Greg said with a snicker the first time it came on the radio. “Do you think he was on LSD when he recorded it? I wonder if he did it on a dare.”

“Richard Harris is a classic actor, not a singer,” Leo said. “Apparently, no one’s told him any different.”

Funniest of all for Leo was the sound of Greg singing “McArthur Park” in the shower before their day began. When Greg switched from his regular voice to falsetto there at the end, it never failed to bring an affectionate smile to Leo’s face.

Affection.

Leo felt it building as the semester progressed but did not know what to do with it. It was there in the very center of his being just begging for more attention. There were times when he wanted nothing more than to throw back his covers, move purposefully to Greg’s bed to lean down and kiss him gently on the lips. Finally, between Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, he made up his mind that he was going to level with Greg about his feelings for men in general and even go so far as to ask if they might explore any feelings the two of them might have for each other. Greg never talked about a girl back home or anything like that, nor, of course, did he. He was going to use “I’d Like To Get To Know You” as his jumping off point and go from there.

When he got to his room following his afternoon Art Class that particular day, Greg was not in the bedroom or the small study room, though he usually was at that hour. That left only the bathroom as a possibility, so Leo knocked on the door.

“Hey, Greg, you in there? If you are, I’d like to talk to you about something when you get through,” he said.

“I’m in here, but I’m looking at myself in the mirror and crying,” Greg told him. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be through.”

The door opened slowly, and Greg stood there facing him, his eyes bloodshot, his cheeks pink and wet with tears.

Leo reached out reflexively and took his hand. “What the hell’s happened to you?”

“I… I just got a long-distance call from my brother in Lexington. Preston said my mother died this morning of a heart attack. My mother’s gone, Leo, she’s gone.”

Instinctively, Leo led him into the bedroom where they sat next to each other on Greg’s bed. “I’m so sorry, Greg. I can’t imagine how you must feel right now. If there’s anything I can do…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Greg continued, not bothering to hold back sobs between sentences. “My father died ten years ago, so now I’m by myself. I don’t even know where I’ll live or who gets the house, even though Preston said I would be welcome to come live with him and Sherrie. That’s his wife.”

Leo thought for a moment and said, “Do you know yet when the services will be?”

Greg looked down at the bedspread and shook his head, his eyes half-lidded. “Preston said in a couple of days. I’ll be going home to Lexington, of course, but…but I wonder if I’ll be coming back. What would be the point? What’s the point of anything anymore?”

Finally, Leo knew the moment that had eluded him for so long had arrived, but he was conscious of wording things carefully considering Greg’s precarious emotional state. He definitely would have to discard the little revelatory speech he had prepared based on the Spanky and Our Gang lyrics. “You have my friendship, Greg,” he said instead. “This won’t change that.”

Greg caught his gaze, and Leo knew a definite connection of a different caliber had been made. “Thanks, Leo. That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“I mean it.”

“Yes, I know you do.” Greg exhaled but kept the intense eye contact.

“In just a few months we’ve come a long way since that first mix-up about the beds. I still regret the way I acted,” Leo added.

Greg managed a hint of a smile, and his body posture straightened a bit. “Thank goodness for WLS late at night, right?”

Leo nodded quickly.

Then he braced himself, leaned in and gave Greg a gentle kiss on the cheek. He could taste the salt of his roommate’s tears when he drew back slightly, and Greg’s eyes, which had been half-lidded up until that moment, widened significantly. “I like you as more than a roommate, Greg. I want you to know that, whatever else happens from here on out. No matter what you decide to do after your mother’s funeral. But for what it’s worth, and if you can manage it, I hope you’ll come back to Sewanee so we can at least finish out the year together.”

Then the two boys hugged and remained physically connected that way for nearly a minute. It did not feel awkward for Leo, and he sensed that Greg was having the same reaction. What pleased Leo the most was that he hadn’t actually had to use the word homosexual in his revelation to Greg. That seemed a clinical and distasteful approach dumped upon him by others, whereas what he had actually said expressed heartfelt emotions that came from deep within. He didn’t see how that could be wrong, especially since his roommate was in perhaps the biggest crisis of his young life. Far from something to be ashamed of, Leo felt that what he had expressed was akin to a much-needed lifeline.

“I can’t go to Lexington with you, though,” Leo said, after they finally broke apart. “I’ve got exams this week.”

“I understand. I’m supposed to take them, too. Just don’t worry about it.”

“But I’ll worry about you.”

“I’ll call you after I’ve talked things over with Preston, and they read my mother’s will.”

Suddenly, Leo felt that his life was on hold as much as Greg’s was.

Two days later, after what felt more like two weeks, the call came through on the second-floor phone out in the hallway, and Leo leaned against the white wall with all the numbers, names and brief messages scribbled on it, hanging on Greg’s every word.

“Preston and I will sell the house together, and I’ll move in with him temporarily,” he was saying after briefly describing the services in strained fashion. “He says I can do some odd jobs for him at his insurance company until I can find something better. But we’ll split the money from the sale of the house, so I’ll be okay financially. Maybe I’ll come back next fall, but I just don’t have the will for school right now. I wish I did, but I just don’t.”

Leo felt an old, unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had hurt just that way when he had experienced his first mad crush on Dean Forsythe in the Junior Little Theatre play at the age of thirteen. Now, he was twenty-one and just as heartsick. He had to make a plea.

“But, Greg, what about our friendship? Won’t that make any difference to you?”

There was a long silence. Then, “We’ll always be friends. What you’ve told me will always mean a lot to me. But you have to understand that something happened to me when my mother died.”

“But if you wait until next fall, I’ll be gone. After I graduate, my draft deferment will end, and who knows where I’ll be? And what about your draft deferment? Have you thought about that and possibly ending up in Vietnam? We’ve talked about how much we both hate the war many times.”

“I’m already 1-Y,” Greg continued. “I have this hearing loss in my right ear. They’d only call me up for a desk job if they needed me.”

Leo took the phone from his ear for a second and frowned at it as if it had done something wrong. “What hearing loss? You never even told me anything about that.”

“Why should I? I certainly didn’t see this coming.”

Accepting his point reluctantly, Leo couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Just when he’d stepped out on a limb, it was about to break and send him hurling helplessly to the ground. Or back to the closet?

“For what it’s worth, Greg, I think I may be falling in love with you,” Leo said, not as a ploy but as a true expression of where he really was.

“If I told you that I’m at a point where I just can’t handle that at my end right now,” Greg said, “would you believe me? Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to reciprocate, but… Leo, I’m a mess. I told Preston I’d like to start seeing someone again. I mean, my psychiatrist. I needed help back when my father died.”

“I guess you didn’t mention that, either.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m not just someone you listened to Top 40 hits with before we went to bed. I come with a history of big problems.”

“Same here,” Leo added, but it didn’t make the trend of the conversation any easier to take. Then an idea flashed into his head. “Will you at least promise me this? Will you come back down to Sewanee for my graduation in June? Do you think you could manage that?”

Greg didn’t hesitate and said he would, which made Leo feel a bit better about things. But there was an overwhelming sense of loss on his part when the conversation ended, and Leo walked slowly back to his room. How ironic was it that he hadn’t wanted a roommate his senior year to start with, and now he would have the room all to himself.