October 31, 1999 - Halloween
They were only the cedar wood litter bins
at the edge of the deserted town dock,
but tonight under the relentless mercury-vapor glare,
damp mist in the midnight air,
they were dark phantom Gothic shapes,
dull sheen, cold gray
carved ancient stone things
adorned
only by a necklace
of amber harbor lights
reflected in the dead still water.

MACROSCOPE - By Michael Safdiah
      --  a private memoir

Here follows an erotic love story.
 a joining of truth and of dreams

This last weekend made me feel especially strong, I knew it was my Scorpio rising and gaining strength, and enjoyed the walk from my home to visit a friend's a few moments away. The weather was brisk, the sky had been clear, and I had been earlier to the beach (froze my ass off) to watch the full moon rise over the ocean to the south east.. You don't see it at first, it's only a suggestion of a luminousness, a shape now, and then a strange and unexpected deep orange light in the sky. There were puffy white clouds, and as the moon rose behind them they turned to black, and I decided it was better to leave the chilly breeze on the beach and head inland to Joe's to see what leftovers were there from last night's roast beef dinner. I noted that the community was really very dark, no lights on in most of the houses I saw, and there were dark shapes instead of lit-up places filled with laughing people. The air smelled of autumn, Blondie stayed very close to me, she ordinarily likes to run ahead, but the dark was strange to her and sounds of deer in the darkness spooked her. She knew the route, however, we used it often, but she still stayed close. My constant bumping into her was reassuring to her, I could tell. Dogs often bump one another for reassurance.

Joe's house is like a doll house, or a stage set in a theater. Since all the lights were out in all the houses along the route, when you came into view of his house, it was a strong contrast. Outside there were lights, the trees were lit, the windows all clear, each showed some bit of activity within. It was the sort of cozy place you wanted to be inside of, and I was always glad to know we were welcome. Tonight was small talk, some comment about a recent drowning, TV watching, couch potato night. I wanted to talk, and they wanted to watch satellite TV. We didn't feel like we fit in, especially with the moon up full so bright, it being the one from Halloween. I couldn't encourage anyone else to come with me, so we headed off back into the dark.

When I left Joe's, (there was some leftover beef, and asparagus. I ate the asparagus, with some mustard, since it seemed no one else liked cold asparagus. Thanks to mom for making me like odd things – I will always be grateful for that). They were watching TV, I hate that, since I always love to make comments and no one else likes it when I do, and I needed to get home to continue packing the junk that I'd want for the winter months here in town, and of course, all the un-eaten food I had in the freezer, etc.

The walk gave me time to reflect on the last few weeks. Tim's visit, his coming all the way from San Fran to tell me I wasn't "the one" before we'd even touched, or of that beautiful man from California who'd drowned weeks earlier in the surf of the hurricane. Tragic loss, that was. Ignored warnings. He was swimming with friends when he went under. They had worked on him for half an hour when they found him, limp in the surf, but to no avail. He'd saved up all his cash to have this vacation, and poof. Snuffed out in only a moment. We'd needed life saving equipment, and I fought for it, but the community powers over-ruled saying it wouldn't have helped. Assholes.

We walked back toward town along pitch dark Bay Walk. I had hoped there might be a few people at Sip'n Twirl, the bar, just to break the evening up, maybe have a beer or see somebody. Blondie ran right up the steps in a flash, and I had to follow her to see the bar was completely closed, dark, and the deck outside was empty. There were a few wrought iron benches and a few potted plants. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light of the full moon, I saw what looked like a lone figure, at the far end, huddled over, seated on a bench, and Blondie had already gone over to say hello. She'd nuzzled him, and he was petting her. I walked over, and tugged her away from the man, he still didn't look up. There was a sort of hushed atmosphere that I notice now, but at the time it seemed perfectly normal to whisper, even though we were totally all alone there.
" I'm sorry. We didn't mean to disturb you, excuse us."
"No, no, please don't go. It's fine, really."

I was standing right over him, the better to hold the dog, and he looked up into my face. His eyes were large, almost begging. Sad. His hair was dark, it looked like gel had stiffened it, but there were frosted tips that glowed in the silvery light. He was strikingly beautiful, and has a smile that said he was glad to see me. We held our gazes that way for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us moving. I was sure I knew him, but where!  Sometimes I really hate my memory for it's being so lousy. Then I felt the back of his nail very softly scratching my inner thigh, as it moved along my leg.

I'm Alan" he said, "I'm here from San Diego. This is my first visit here"
I couldn't believe what I was feeling. The slow movement on my leg continued, it brushed dangerously close to my cock, which was already responding to this man's touch. His full lips shone in the moon's light. In his face I could see sadness, and anxiousness for where he was and what we were doing, but there was determination. I gently cupped my hands under his face, as if to say it was okay. He moved forward, and I felt his hand cup itself around my butt and as he drew me forward, he was pressing his mouth against my still imprisoned rock-hard cock.

I knew we were whispering, but it wasn't a voice that I heard; it was more like an experience of his voice. I inhaled to bring his scent into me. Scents are real things. His was fresh and sweet like the ocean, like seaweed, and there was suntan oil. He must have been taking advantage of the sun on the beach that afternoon. I was too afraid to say or do anything to break this spell. He exhaled the hottest breath which passed through the thin denim of my well worn jeans as he softly scratched the length of my cock with his teeth. It was overwhelming. His hand was also exploring the crack of my butt, also through my jeans. It was as though my clothes had vanished. I felt him kneading my glutes, and all resistance, as though there might have been any, was flowing out of my body.

He slipped off his jacket, to reveal a glistening tanned body under a tank-top.
"No you'll freeze" I said

"No. I'm not cold. Please take off yours too. I want to touch you. Please."

This was nuts, it was indeed freezing, but I obeyed. His mouth was on my navel, and had worked itself to my nipples in no time at all, and all through it his hot breath was creating a glow all over me. He never looked up. Blondie was resting at our feet. I was amazed that I hadn't felt the chill at all, as I looked over the tall pines surrounding the deck, marveling at the moon, the clear sky, and the fact that we were in the dead-center of town and yet entirely alone. I thought of my creator, and wondered if I was supposed to be thinking of him, or of this man. It came to me that this was all part of a beautiful continuum. For some reason his moment was happening for me, and it was a gift, not to be refused. I said thanks.

"I'm only a block away from here. Come to my place where we can relax, it will be warm and comfortable"

"No, please, I can't" was all he said, and in such a way that I knew to not ask again for fear of losing the magic of the moment and breaking the spell of what we were doing right then. He was scratching my nipples gently and had moved his attention to my cock, which he was deeply swallowing and teasing. Waves of pleasure were sweeping me. I felt as though he had total control over me. The sensations were unbearable, but continued to grow. I was sure I was going to scream. He cupped my balls in his hand, hefted their weight, and drew his hand back to his face to inhale deeply. I was feeling electricity emanating from them. My entire body ached for his touch.

Standing now, he began to kiss me, we were exploring one another's mouths. There was only the sweetest most fresh essence. Now he placed my hands on his butt, and pressed me there while he continued to stroke my cock to even greater hardness. I held his most perfect mounds in my hands. I couldn't believe this was happening. For the first time, he faced away from me revealing the most perfect shoulders, lean, swimmers body, and a narrow waist. His arms, delts, triceps were all perfect, but he was interested in making my cock find its way to his ass. He was taller than I, and he had crouched a little to make it easier, but in no time he'd wet his hand, his ass, and my dick, and made them work together as a team. It was as though he was all over me, everywhere at once.

"I have HIV. " I protested, "This is a bad idea".

"Please, it's okay, don't worry." He was smiling softly, I assumed he meant he was POZ too, and I was thrilled to have found a guy who loved bareback as I did. To a guy like him you don't say no. I only wanted to bond and become a part of him. My tongue found its way to his back, and surprisingly I could draw my mouth along the entire length of his torso. He was drawing in sharp breaths of surprise, pleasure shocks, telling me I was doing the right thing. Physical laws had been eliminated, we were everywhere and anywhere with our bodies.

He wasn't tight at all; I entered him as though I always belonged there. No resistance, just total containment; it was as though I was encased in a warm familiar glove, every part of me was being caressed by this man. There seemed to be no part of my body that wasn't being held by him. Yet still he said nothing, only making small whimpers. I wondered if I was hurting him.
"Alan, are you okay"?
"oh yeah. Oh please, yeah."
That smile again, and that curious urgency, even though we had all the time in the world!
He arched his face around to kiss me as we embraced, and our mouths locked for a long while.

As I began to move inside of him, his own muscles took over. I realized that all I could do was to find his rhythm and stay in phase with him. I began to feel my orgasm approaching, and I was afraid it would end too soon. NO! Please don't let this end, but it had been over an hour, and I had lost all track of time. I could tell from the position of the moon. All my insides were sliding towards my balls, and the electricity within was spreading all over me. I couldn't tell where Alan ended and I began. We were one, in a way I had only dreamt of. This, with a total stranger. I was swept along with a current I had no control over, nor any desire to fight. I was joyously willing to let it take me wherever it wanted.

I wasn't sure just when it started, when I started to cum, it seemed as though I had been cumming for long before it began. Long before I was aware of it. I was pumping, not in jerks, but with a flowing of energy, constantly moving all of my being into Alan. There were long minutes before we stopped moving.

"I never, ever had this experience before, not with anyone. I never want this to end. Please come home with me."

"I can't. I have to stay here. Please forgive me"

"Can I have your number, I can call you, we can see one another some more."

"I'm moving now, and don't know where I will be. I'll be in touch".

I panicked, "But you have no idea how to find me"

"I know where you are - - - - I'll see you. This was all I had hoped for".

"Me too, Alan. This was a first for me. This is too good to lose. Don't ask me to go away."

"Please let me sit here alone for awhile, Don't worry."

I was freaking, I was about to lose the most wonderful beautiful man of my whole gay life, and leave him alone in the dark. I decided to trust life, and stop pushing. We embraced, more lovingly than before. My instincts told me I'd never see him again. Hello The Story Of My So-Called Life.

We sat for a few moments more, saying nothing, words all collecting in my throat, and blocking one another from being said. His breathing was heavy, and he placed his hand onto mine. It felt so good to be there with him, and all I wanted to ask him was "Why!" I knew there was some force in his life which held him away from me. Whatever it was, I wanted to overcome it, my will was so strong.

I walked down the steps, looking back at Alan, my angel, seated and huddled again. I turned away, and walked a few more yards toward the deserted harbor. Then, deciding that I could not stand to leave that man alone there, not knowing what I would say, or how, I only knew that I couldn't stand it. I was meant to be with him, and he knew it too, I had to convince him to break free of whatever it was that held him. I raced back to the terrace. It was empty and still! There was no way he could have left without my seeing him. ALAN! AALLLLAAAAANNNN!! I called his name loud, twice. I didn't care who heard me. There was only a rustle of leaves, and the faint scent of suntan oil. It was that scent which told me I wasn't dreaming, it was on my hands. My panic began to turn into calm, and I sensed that he knew that I loved him, and that I'd some day re-join him. I hadn't felt alone right at that moment, and I doubt I ever will.

I walked back to my house, it was totally dark, except for the lights around the harbor. We didn't run into a single soul on the way. I stopped before entering the house, I hadn't left any outside lights on, so the lot, filled with trees, was lit with an eerie light. My land has so many trees it's dark, even with the full moon, but I stood and looked up straight at the moon, and saw a few leaves in the beam of light. Funny, it was just like a magnifier to my eyes, I could see every detail of a far-away Oak leaf in that beam, amazing. Don't ask me to explain why, I don't try to do that any more, I just sit back and gape at how beautiful the world can be. I thank GOD always for my being able to see something new and beautiful every day.
I went to sleep that night sensing that I wasn't alone, and that Alan, or someone else, was with me, and would be always.

Two nights later I was at the bar again, there was a tiny crowd at the bar, and a few guys over the pool table. One man with an especially striking butt was about to take his shot, and as he bent over the table, through the smoky air in that dimly harsh light, I looked, did a doubletake and I froze. It was Alan.
(to be continued)

The character of Alan is an exact description of my real-life friend Jimmy, who I met one night on the island, on a night just as I met Alan, They look alike, they are each visiting the island for the first time, and they are both beautiful men and tragic figures.

JIMMY -- a story about a wonderful man. Every word is true.
I was out one August night on the island, it was 1987. The air had a slight chill to it. I had planned to be on the beach so I brought a blanket with me, which I wrapped around myself. I walked to the ocean, the moon was over the southern sky, and the reflections were polished stainless steel on the water. Pretty. As I climbed the steps leading up from the beach, there was a lone figure, sort of lean, and tall, sitting at the top of the steps, at Nautilus Walk, facing out to the ocean. He had an aura of solitude around him, and he sat as though he was huddled against the chill air. All he had was a tank-top! Silly thing! He was beautiful. Dark hair, sweet goofy smile, wide-open-to-you sort of looking at me. I walked past him and was about to head away from the spot, then I took a risk, did something I’d never done before, I walked up behind him, and gently placed my blanket over his shoulders.
"You must be freezing! Here, warm up inside this. I’m Michael, what’s your name?"
"I’m Jimmy." He smiled. "You can come inside my new blanket, you must be cold out there too!"

Well, I melted, and of course got under that blanket, I don’t recall the rest of the conversation, these are always a blur when I am meeting someone. Details get fuzzy and I go on auto-pilot, but I recall my arms were over his shoulders, and I was sitting next to him, and we were huddled tight together warm inside my old blue wool navy blanket against the night air.

He had dark hair, a soft beautiful voice, and the most gentle, sweet accessible manner I had ever encountered. He stood in my mind in marked contrast to the Fire Island hard-edged, frightened, defenses-up boys one tends to meet out here. You know how you feel when you meet someone you like immediately, and you want to open all of yourself to him, and embrace him? That was the way I felt about Jimmy, and it pretty much was the way it happened. He was on vacation from LA, (damn!) and had a few more days left to his vacation.

We stayed undermneath the darkmess of the blanket for a while, and somehow determined that we could walk to Bay Walk while still underneath it. Unable to see where we were going, we were funny, I'm sure, and might have fallen off the boardwalk several times were it not for luck. Somehow we managed to walk, if you can call it that, back to my house, (lucky me) and somehow we managed to spend the night letting our bodies do the talking. He was a great kisser, and I fell into a rapture with him, even though he was a smoker. It didn’t much matter which of us did what - we did it all, no one had any hang-ups. It’s easy to meet people here, it was a different story entirely to find a feeling of limmerence, that falling-into-infatuation feeling. It’s never left me where Jimmy was concerned.

The next few days were a whirlwind of our discovering one another, and of my showing him New York. I was shameless, using New York that way. I wanted him to love New York, and to love me. We knew time was limited so we took as much advantage of it was we could. There was something - a shadow or so it seemed - always on his mind, but he never let on what it was, and he permitted me to show him a wonderful time. He was always interested and grateful for whatever we did. We fell in a wonderful rapturous state, we knew we’d met one another for a reason.

After he returned to LA we stayed in constant touch by phone and letter. E-mail hadn’t yet come into our lives, we were old fashioned. One very special gift he sent me was a bright yellow Bauer bowl, which became my favorite. It still sits high on a shelf in my cluttered kitchen, as though to emulate the sun shining down on my work area. It’s Jimmy’s energy, and my favorite color.

Years later, Jimmy died by his own hand, I thought it was when he was diagnosed with PML. That was in September of ’92. At the time I had no idea what PML was, and why a person could ever take his life. I was angry. I had lost a precious person, and I felt like a dozen doors had slammed shut. ("Jimmy, if only I could have been with you, if only I could have talked you out of it."
Little did I know his decision was the right one.

Jim’s best friend Ken says no, it was just the neuropathy, the runs, and the pain, and the weight loss. All the associated Shit that no one with as bright a spirit as Jimmy would tolerate and still call it Life. -- Jimmy would never have been talked out of what he wanted to do, and he even got Ken agree to help him at the end. It was to be pills. He decided, unbeknownst to Ken, to spare him the agony of his final moments, and went ahead and strated it alone ahead of time, but when Ken arrived, Jimmy was still alive, and he had to help his best friend to die. He was at his desk, slumped over his farewell note. That was my first lesson in The Right To Choose One’s Own Decent Death. Do you wonder why I’m angry? Once again, I doubled my loathing for Ronald Regan and George Bush.

Jimmy kept a journal, and even told Ken he would have moved east to be with me. I had begged him so much to do that. What I didn’t know was how close he was to doing it! I wonder what our lives would have been like had he moved east. Would I have been the kind of lover he deserved? Would I have been able to peel myself away from the restaurant enough to devote myself to him? Or, would I like so many other times, have taken this treasure of a human being for granted and worked my butt off at the Black Sheep. I’m ashamed to say I might have done him a disservice and see it now as a good thing that he stayed in California.

Shortly before he died, he sent me a letter, saying how wonderfully he had recalled the night we'd met, but with no hint of what was to come.
It was a card on which was a painting by Klimt, called The Kiss. . It contained the following poem:

HANDS
Without asking you took mine in yours
Without speaking I gave it to you, not wanting a word to contradict my heart
How could such grime be touching me, I wonder
My hand had been washed six times already,
and yours, apparently, none
I scrub, and sniff, and scrub again, and cover up
As if to shed life itself--but your hands looked like they reached hungrily for the world, reveling in all of it
Something I can’t stand on my own hands--more than dirt--evidence of
Fearless living--covered yours
Instead of running from it this time, as you kneaded my palms with your
strong fingers
I took it as something I needed, and never realized I wanted before--
A new way to live.

MACROSCOPE (continuing)

"Don’t be discouraged at good-bye’s.
A farewell is necessary before you can meet again,
and meeting again, after moments or lifetimes,
is certain for those who are friends.
--- Richard Bach

author’s note: I never wanted Jimmy to leave, and this story is my way of holding on -- at least for a little while longer. No mortal can ever overrule fate, but with my little word processor I can create a dream, and that can keep him with me for as long as I choose. If you have ever lost anyone, or wanted to believe in forever, this story is dedicated to you. -- MS

The story continues, I had met a spirit (Alan) on a full moon night, Fire Island on 24 October 1999, and after a brief and beautiful encounter he disappeared. Later that month he reappeared,  playing pool at a bar. It turns out he was both the spirit of a man who’d drowned on the island earlier that summer, and also the spirit of a man (Jimmy) I met that same way years before on Fire Island, fallen in love with, and who’d taken his life rather than live with the ravages of AIDS.  Jimmy’s spirit reveals himself to me and shows me what is possible for the two of us while we’re together.

>>where I discover some of his special powers<<
We were laying on the beach, near the water’s edge, and the warm July sun was baking us. Lulu was playing in the surf, I knew we were at The Pines, and that I was next to him, but the last few moments were all a blur to me.
I had walked over to Alan while he was playing pool at that bar late in October:
"Sweet man, it’s so good to see you again, where’d you disappear to"
"Let’s take a walk, we need to get out of here. I’ve been waiting for you."
His eyes flashed a beautiful electric green color. The next thing we’re on the beach, it’s day time, and it’s July. Lulu is nearby playing with a few other dogs in the surf, and now coming over to dig a cool hole for herself and lay nearby with her eye on me. Moments ago it was chilly October, and now it’s a sunny July afternoon…

"Alan, isn’t there something you want to tell me?"
The understatement of the year.
"Soon, soon you will know. Meanwhile, just relax with me and let me hold you"
He was indeed holding me. We were both laying on our backs, side by side, but I felt the weight of his body on top of me, his lips and warm sweet breath on my neck. I was so aroused it damn near hurt. I know I ought to have been frightened at this, but a part of me seemed to be aware that this was the way things should be, so the nervous part of me was calmed.
"I have so many questions. Mmmff"
"Michael, shhh."
He was kissing me, oh my God, he’s doing that thing he did back on the deck, he’s all over my body all at once, and all I can do is just lay here! Help!

I felt my body immobilized, pinned by some loving gentle force, and while I was unable to move, I felt him filling my ears, my mouth, any corner of my body with expanding stretching energy. I was being caressed – entered from every imaginable position, deeply, lovingly, and I was responding the same way with him, and I couldn’t have moved physically.
"Alan, I want to hold you just the way you are holding me."
"Then just do it, you can, you know, if you let yourself. You already can speak with me without uttering a sound. We already shifted two decades in the blink of an eye."
"How?" (another stoopid question)
"You can simply just will it to happen."
I did and I worked, and we made love again that afternoon, and no one who might have been walking past us would have seen anything except two men in Speedos laying asleep, tanning in the sun. I was afraid I’d say something, wake up and screw up the best day-dream of my life.
I kept trying to say things, to ask how, but each time I’d try, he’d be doing something so intense that I had to gasp for air. Sadistic bastard, I loved it.

I kept sensing the same message from him, that we were re-united again, and for the time being at least, we’d stay together and not lose one another for a while.

"Darling, you know It just keeps getting better each time, but one thing bothers me - how the fuck do you keep the sand out!"

>>having lunch on The Cape and learning more about him <<

Spirit-fucking is kind of new to me, I’d been around the block before, but this really exhausted me, and energized me all at the same time. No lovin’ I’d ever had before was this good, and it always got better each time. We walked back from the beach, holding on to one another, and sat at the deck at the Sandpiper, and had a Blue Turtle, an ick-y sweetened Windex-colored cocktail They slid down so smoothly, but packed a wallop. By now, I needed that kick.

He had a faraway look on his face. He was looking out along the harbor across the bay. The sky was very blue and there were thick white billowing clouds high in the sky. There were swans in the harbor, dodging the boats as they arrived and left.
"Alan, this is not possible. The Sandpiper closed years ago, and Lulu hasn’t been born yet, and she’s already passed away. What year is this and what are you doing to my head?
"It’s 1975, and I just wanted to bring you back to a happy time here on the island and to a place you grew to love. A place before the plague hits. Now you know that it will, and there’s no way to stop it. Lulu’s spirit has been eternally with you, Besides, anything’s possible!"
Great - I'm in love with The Mystery Queen, but nothing he could do would upset me, I trusted him totally even tho’ I still had no clue as to what was going on. Perhaps food would help give the day some perspective.
"You hungry?"
"You bet! Especially for anything you cook."
(Well then he really did know me in a previous life, I guess)
"Nice to know that you eat. I don’t have a place here in this year, or do I?"
"Yes you do. You own a home, you’re rich from the restaurant and the food packaging ideas you invented. You even have servants, but no matter, we can go anywhere."

"I gave your housekeeper the afternoon off, would you like lunch?"
"Sure, but let’s go to the Cape, we can land at P’town and grab a bite at Ciro and Sals, maybe? We could use the change of venue."
"Sure. Anything you say."
"Then lets go"
I was about to call for the Cessna to be fueled and readied at the airport when he said it wasn’t necessary. I think I knew what he meant. I’m no power-tripper, but I felt the need to have my own hands on some kind of steering wheel so I insisted. The trip across the bay made me glad we took a small boat - I feel so attached to that bay, and the island it caresses. I was wondering what was going on, but I also realized that my thoughts were all being shared with this beautiful creature who had already captured me in every way I could imagine.

We had taken off in my little single engine plane and as we leveled off, the roar of the engines allowed us only small conversation, but to my mind’s ear he was loud and clear. The ride to P’town would only take a short while, and I was enjoying the light ocean breezes and the clear visibility. I needed to get to Cape Cod Bay to approach P’town.

We flew along the north shore of Long Island, before heading north, low enough to the water to see the bay’s bottom, and all the inlets, the little harborages, and the shadings where the sea grass grew, and where it was sandy. The breezes carried the ocean’s scents upward to my nostrils, I inhaled deeply, it was a perfect summer day. I was proud of my landing and of my beautiful passenger who never had stopped chattering made sure to praise me for that - He knew just what I needed to hear, well of course, he was inside my mind after all.

>>he reveals to me who he really is, while we make love on the run<<

"Alan are you a ghost?"
I heard his reply as laughter, like the sound of bells.
"I’m neither a ghost nor an angel, believe me. You might say that I am a Navigator, and that I am a pilot on a river called Time. Then in a flash of an instant he reminded me of Einstein’s equations of universal time and space all happening at once and that we are all living today and yesterday and tomorrow all at the same time. Time was a river, and a Navigator could travel along it and carry me or any persons chosen and be wherever they chose to be. Well, of course, now that he explained it that way, that was simple, any fool could understand that, and I was willing to be any fool for this man. Or whatever he was. Whew!

Reading my mind again, he continued,
"Also I’m not Alan, I’m Jimmy which is the reason why you loved me when you saw me on that deck on the island, I was merely borrowing Alan’s shape and essence for a while. I can explain later. You knew me when I visited the island in ’87, when we fell in love."

I was overwhelmed. Here was the one man I had loved and lost with no warning, now back again for me. I began to cry for happy and for just the sheer weight of so much all at once. It was so good I was afraid it would go away again, and I couldn’t endure his loss a second time. Jimmy had decided to give up his body in 1992, due to his body being unable to sustain AIDS.

"I know this is a dream, and I will wake up, and I’ll hate the morning for ending all this!"

My face was covered with tears. He smiled and allowed his ‘plasm to flow around me and embrace me in the same way he’d done before, only this time it was more with reassurance and love than sensuous love. I felt his hands cupping under my face, and his saying we’d stay together longer this time.
"I came looking for you. I love you"
"You never said goodbye" I said, sobbing, "I had no clue, I was stunned when I learned it from a phone call. I know you had your reasons, but I was so stunned by having lost you that way."
"I wrote, don’t you remember the card?"
Indeed there had been a card, and a beautiful message.
It was a painting by Klimt called The Kiss.
The artist had used gold in the painting. It depicted two figures embracing one another and themselves being embraced by the painting. In his note, Jimmy reminded me of the night we met, and of the walk back from the beach where we were together under my blanket, stumbling and groping and kissing, one step forward, two steps to the side, we must’ve looked hilarious. He said the sunrise from my deck the following morning was the most magnificent he’d ever seen in his life.

"It said in one painting how I perceive our embracing love for one another."
"At the time didn’t seem like 'goodbye', but 'hello'."
"So Shalom, then, goodbye and hello."
I accepted what he said, but I was still pissed.

While I was struggling to retain control of the tiny plane, and my emotions, he reached for me to placate my sadness.  We again dissolved into one another. I was turned inside out; we became one. Damn. He did it again!

I slid the plane easily into the approach to the airport from Cape Cod Bay, landing was easy, and we grabbed a taxi to the old restaurant on Commercial street. My legs felt wobbly. My butt felt warm, and totally satisfied. I was seated the entire trip. Funny, that.

Nothing had changed at Ciro’s as we had our lunch in the darkened, musky candle-lit Cape Cod room. The colorful round glass floats were hanging from fish nets on the low ceiling. Anywhere else they’d be tack-y but they belonged here, this was still a fishing village. The aroma of garlic wafted from the kitchen. The nicest welcome. The waiter was tall, lean, and had that Cape-Casual easiness that made us feel welcome, and in his hands. I was relaxing again. With his dark tan and sweet goofy smile he suggested and we assented, Grilled tuna medium rare, olive oil, ground cumin, coriander and drizzled lightly with honey. We had a white Zin. Food to die for. Over the arugula, roasted fennel and lemon salad, I begged him to tell me why.
"Why the pool table, and why didn’t you just come over to me?"
"I wanted to show you my ass, and see if your remembered."
"Pig! Who could forget."
"Okay, and well, mostly and firstly because I love you, and I was given permission to come back to you."
"Permission? Do you have superiors you have to answer to?"
"Just Him, our Creator,  he’s never too busy to handle the little details."
"Are you going to take me back with you?"
"Eventually, but not yet. I don’t even know when your time is, but while you are here you have work to do, and I am going to help you to get started with it. "
"Well, then why did you wait till now, or till then, I mean till 1999, which isn’t yet, is it?"
"It’s all ‘now’, darling. Every time is now and every place is here."
I was confused, but starting to get the hang of it. Time and space travel was going to be fun, especially with this magnificent companion. I hadn’t been laid like that in forever, and I was sure I would be totally willing to allow myself to yield total control of myself to him, (I already had) with complete trust that no harm would ever come to me.

Dessert brought me back to Earth. There was a zabaglione with honey and fresh peaches, a freebie sliver of deadly rich Mississippi Mud Cake, thanks to Kevin, our generous lecherous waiter, and strong coffee. His huge endowment showed clearly through the thin gabardine of his pants, and pressed at the perfect height to constantly be at the edge of our table. Grab the sugar, grab the salt, grab Kevin. Had I been alone...  but that's another story. I felt as natural as any waking dream could ever allow. Time for more questions.
"Why me, Jimmy, and why Fire Island?"
"It’s where we renewed our relationship when you met me as you came off that beach that chilly full moon night that August of ‘87, and because there is music and dancing, and love, and these are the elements where my event horizons are, the passages I use to navigate through."
"Event horizon, as in Black Holes?"
That smile again, I guess I was getting smarter, and Einstein was right.

"The Soul will always bring us home, no matter where we navigate and it’s homing beam is Love – that’s the energy that moves the universe. You were chosen for many reasons, but I chose you because we’re connected for at least fifteen centuries. We’ve been friends or lovers for over a thousand years in many lives."
There had been partings where neither if us was prepared for the inevitable moment. We needed to learn to trust life.

"That cold night when you knew nothing would drag me away from that ocean view, you gave me your own blanket. Do you know why you gave me that blanket?"
"Because you were about to freeze your silly ass?"
"It was a totally selfless gesture -- an act of loving. It was the key to opening the doorway for us to re-connect. "
"And when I met Alan?"
"Again you were concerned for a stranger - another selfless act of loving - another key. "
"Gee I just thought I wanted to connect, I was lonely."

"I had no idea. Music, dancing? This is part of your travel mechanism?"
"Yes but don’t forget love. The essential. We are all linked by those. We are only vaguely aware of it but they are able to transport us anywhere we care to be, and where ever there’s the music, no matter when or what year or place, we are all linked and able to communicate. All through history there was always dancing."
"How about the future?"
"Nice try babe, but no cigar, I can’t take you to the future, at least not to yours. You understand why, don’t you."
"I just want one cigar, and you know who’s and you know how."
"Later, darling. Now there’s learning to be done if you are to help me with my work." (He has work?)
"We have a past then?"
"You and I, yes.  Almost back to the fall of Rome, and we lived and died by wars, plague, Mongol invaders, we were monks in a Cistercian monastery, and at Lhasa in Tibet. We’d even been captured by slave traders when we were boys in Africa. Yes, we were several races and colors in those lives, does that surprise you? We fought and died in The First World War, and once we even lived as women, I was your maid and you had children and your husband was unfaithful, and we fell in love.  You won't recall Viet Nam together with me in your present consciousness, but when you are as I am, you will know of all of our lives together.

"I recall some of a monastery, and a fire there, and I remember vague parts of a medieval life, it was very unexciting, except for you. It all seems like a dream."

It’s true that every time I met him I felt as though I knew him, and now I know why, but what was this work he spoke of?

>>he explains about a small job to be done<<

"We need to get back to the beach, there are a number of beautiful lives in danger there, thanks to an unscrupulous dealer who distributes poisons in the name of designer drugs. Men and women who are seeking bliss will end up getting a premature death unless we intervene."

"Can’t we just kill him?"
"He must fall by his own hand, and from his own selfish greed."
"Let’s go then, anything you say."

I was already totally in his power, and only my trust in him kept me going. I had no idea if he even was anything he said he was, but I was seduced by his powers, but don’t devils have similar powers? I tossed that idea away, this was my soul mate, who was I to doubt after all he’d shown me.

"Will it just be the two of us?" I wondered if we would be enough. There’s one angel here, and of course there’s Creator, but we should do just fine.
"Angel? What does an angel look like?"
"Look up in the Deejay booth."
"David?"

We found ourselves inside the club this time it was Friday night and the crowd had just started to gather in force. David was playing - you could see him in his booth, smiling benignly down on his flock. Various groups had already staked out their territories on the dance floor, and the deejay had started to stroke the dancers to an early high before allowing them to slip into the long sustained beating that would take them through two or three more highs. Some of the dancers had already left the floor to seek out our target - and were about to negotiate their purchases of head candy for the night. Jimmy had got there first, somehow, and was engaging the man in a corner, in that clandestine way such dealings are done. I could hear his voice in my mind’s ear - Jimmy was telling the man that he needed to make a big buy, and could they do it outside. I was to meet them there.

The two of them left together, and stood near the edge of the pier at the harbor. There were crowds of arriving dancers, marching, after their long walks like determined soldiers with a purpose toward the disco, but no one seemed to notice the three lone figures standing in the dark shadows off the pier. The breezes off the ocean were perfect for the summer evening, just enough movement to cool the heated bodies of the dancers as they came outside for breaks. The water in the harbor was calm. There was a splash. A muffled yell.

>>being back inside the music<<

We were back on our spot the dance floor, with our friends, laughing, existing inside the music, sweating up a storm, and feeling overwhelming love. We were bare-chested now, and really glistening with man-sweat and oil, and every time our bodies touched there was that electric shock I had already become unable to live without. The near- funky scents were intoxicating, they represented the things and the people I loved. I already was joyous that he was the man I would collapse on top of later on. My need to look around ‘in search of’ was replaced by my intense focus on being here in this place with the friends I loved so much, and with Jimmy. The music went on it seemed for hours, and so did we. I understood why this was so needed for Jimmy’s magic to happen, and then all thoughts of time travel and space were set aside, we were living inside our bodies, and renewing our love.

We found ourselves on the beach tucked into a dune as the sun rose over the eastern horizon. The morning was warm, and we’d gone back to the house for an enormous fluffy towel before coming here. The beach had that wonderful ocean smell, The surf was quietly lapping away at the shore. The breezes were soft. We made love again, this time that special way he’d shown me, and I felt complete.
"Was that the job you needed me for? Killing that guy?"
"Relax, he didn’t die, but he’s not coming back to sell bad dope any longer either. I scared the shit out of him. Twelve valuable lives were saved last night also, and a few of them will do important things, so we did well."

>> Jimmy tells me of my mission<<

" I won’t be able to stay with you to the end, this time, I’ll have to leave after a while. I don’t know how long we’ll be given, but after I leave, you may not remember any of my having been here. This is a kindness, believe me. It isn’t intended that you mourn me again."

"We’ll reunite in our next incarnation, and if there’s any chance that I can come to you in this one as another living man, I will, darling, don’t worry.,, and when you fall in love with him look for me inside of him. you will recognize me. There will be dancing, and there will be music."

I was being prepared to be apart from him once again, and anticipating the inevitable pain, but he was clear that I would never be alone, and that our Creator was always standing nearby, and so was he. He continued:

"No, Michael, there’s something larger, something you were chosen for, and it’s my turn to support you in it. It will take time, and it will become your life’s work. I’ll be with you for that. Gays have been abused and denied the happiness we were intended to have since the start of history, and you will be fighting that unyielding tide."

"That dealer was getting away with murder, literally, because we have no recourse, no laws to protect us, no one in our society to help us. We’ve got to do it for ourselves."

"Like that poor man in ancient Greek myth, Sisyphus, who was condemned to eternally carry that heavy boulder up a mountain only to have it roll back down again just as he reached the summit, ad infinitum, your work will seem just as hopeless, but you will learn to see small victories, and you will have changed history. This is your destiny, my dearest one. There’s danger, it might end this lifetime for you, there might be pain, you could lose everything. Are you ready for it?"

I opened my eyes.  We were on a street surrounded by roaring, rioting people. Overturned cars were burning, choking smoke was in the air,  People were screaming, the sound was deeper than a scream, it was an outraged roar. Rocks and bottles being thrown, sirens wailing, -- unholy noise, rage was everywhere.  Acrid smoke from burning rubber tires.  Police with riot equipment looking like alien invaders, which they were, charging the crowd of gays. I realized we were in San Francisco. It was a Spring evening in 1979, and one of our greatest leaders and populist spokesmen, Harvey Milk, had been murdered late last November, and his killer had this very day been found not guilty by reason of insanity by a jury.

Harvey was one of the most articulate advocates for a universal acceptance of homosexuals as human beings, endowed by their creator with the same unalienable rights as their heterosexual counterparts. … Milk always depicted the struggle for gay rights as "the fight to preserve your democracy."

I looked at Jimmy, tears streaming down his soot-blackened face, the street fires reflected in his eyes, his mouth contorted with rage:  Am I ready? As if I could say no.

TO BE CONTINUED