I moved to get busy with whatever I was to be doing as I entered what was known as the milk house. The paint on the interior walls was supposed to be ...hite, I assumed, but was a bit dingy in places yet kept clean. I could tell. It was cool, felt damp in there, almost uncomfortable cool but the kind of coolness that reminded me of my grandparents root cellar.I passed by a closet that held equipment moaning and sucking and wheezing. I would learn these were the vacuum pumps running the milking. Everything except for my burning desire to be with another boy. Medicine and sex is all I could think about. I puttered my way through my freshman year, even joining the track team and excelling. I was a star at the school, but only during track season.I spent the summer between my freshman and sophomores year of high school volunteering on the ambulance and learning more about medicine. I was no longer “involved” with the family things, but my parents were okay with it, especially since I was. More

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