Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/32

 care for it. I'll take it back like everything else I buy him. But I'm not going to buy him girl's toys even if he likes them. Damn it, Carol you're wrong in raising him like a girl."

Le Claire didn't approve of the things his wife bought their son. He didn't think Gaylord should play with dolls, and sets of dishes, and it made him angry when he came home and found both his wife and son looking through magazines for paper dolls to cut out.

One day Gaylord had come home from school and after noticing his eyes all red and swollen his father had questioned him.

"What's wrong, Son?"

"Nothing … nothing at all," Gaylord had replied and ran to his room.

He had read the hurt expression in his father's face. Had longed to throw his arms around the broad shoulders and pour his heart out. But how could he? How could he explain a smaller boy had caused him to cry?

If the situation had been different, if the boy had been larger than himself, perhaps he could have told the whole story. But this was just another incident he must keep locked within himself. This he could not even tell to his mother.

Gaylord had cultivated his own group of friends and most of them enjoyed coming to his house. Dancing and eating the delicious things his mother always served was a real treat. They all liked his parents. His mother, a favorite with the boys, was so pretty. And his father, after the living room rug had been rolled up, was the most popular male in the room with both sexes. Gaylord wasn't unpopular. He was a good dancer and many times his passions had been aroused by the softness of the girl snuggled so close. He had no desire for sex with them but he had kissed and necked with them. There was that one time … but the girl had been the aggressor, and because he wanted to be like the rest, who he was sure did those things, he had allowed the act to be fulfilled.

Lately the living room had been dark, and the rug hadn't been rolled up for dancing for some time. After that experience with Thelma White he didn't care for dancing or girls at all.

The auditorium corner was warm, and as the tumult continued he felt its excitement stir timidly through his body. The lights had 22