the illicit cruise he was about to undertake； but whatever the reason； Nate actually started to run；
dodging pedestrians and leaping over a low gate that separated the docks from the street。 The
rubber soles of his flip…flops thwacked noisily against the ashy wood slats of the dock。 His heart
was pounding in his ears： it was really； finally happening？the summer was beginning at last。 Once
he and Blair stepped on board that boat； every…thing would change。
？Sir？ Sir？？ A uniformed dockhand was running down the pier toward Nate； waving his hands in
the air above his head like bees were attacking him。 ？This is private property； sir； you？re going to
have to leave。？
？I？m looking for my boat；？ Nate explained； scanning the forest of masts for its familiar profile。
He？d helped his dad build the thing？he？d have known the boat anywhere。 ？TheCharlotte。 It？s
around here somewhere。 I want to take her out。？
？TheCharlotte？ ？ The dockhand？a college…age kid who seemed cool enough？stared at Nate；
clearly confused。 ？The Archibald boat？？
？Yeah。？ Nate nodded； glancing behind him： Blair and Serena were perched on the security gate；
swinging their legs in the air and laughing at something。 ？It？s my family？s boat。 Can you give me
the slip number？？
？Sorry； man。？ The dockhand shook his head； slowly。 ？She？s not here。 Captain Archibald sailed
up to Newport at the beginning of June？he told me he was planning on keeping her there for the
season。？
Shit。Nate frowned at the dockhand； then looked back at Blair once more。 She was kicking her
little tan legs up and down when a sudden gust of wind off the water caused her gauzy dress to
flutter up around her waist。 Underneath she was wearing pale pink cotton underwear。 He could
just make out little white polka dots decorating them。
Forget the boat： for now all he wanted was to lie down next to her； hold her hand； and never let
go。
the truth es out 。 。 。 and so does d
？Male。 Ball。 Male； ball。 Male balls。？
Dan groaned and flopped over in the soft； once…white； now coffee…and…nicotine…stained sheets of
his bed。Male balls？ Sweating profusely； he rocked his head from side to side。
？You awake in there？？ Rufus Humphrey； Dan？s
boisterous…and…eccentric…editor…of…lesser…known…Beat…poets dad banged on the bedroom door
urgently。 ？Mail call！ Mail call！ Are you listening？？
？Mail call！？ Dan sat upright in bed。Mail call； you idiot； not male balls。 ？I？m awake；？ he
announced； his voice cracking。
？Remind me to tell you about the early bird and the worm sometime！？ Rufus stormed into Dan？s
bedroom purpose…fully； clad in a typically demented outfit： a pair of carpenter？s pants splattered
with the same dingy off…white paint that cov…ered the apartment？s walls？making them around
nineteen years old？and an officialBreakfast at Fred？s crew jacket he must have pilfered from a pile
of Vanessa？s dirty laundry。 It was unzipped； revealing a chest of furry gray hair。 He held a massive
cardboard box that someone had haphazardly sealed with twine； butcher paper； bubble wrap； and
two kinds of tape。The word FRAGILE was scrawled all over the box in five different languages。
Rufus dropped the package onto the bed。 ？You？ve got mail。？
？Jesus。？ Dan picked up the ungainly box。 He could have tossed it into the air； it was so light。 ？It
doesn？t feel like there？s even anythinginside here。？
？Open it； open it；？ Rufus urged。 ？Your sister sent it all this way and the shipping could not have
been cheap； so I？m guessing there？s something good in there。？
？Sure。？ Dan started tugging at the twine。
？I didn？t hear you e in last night。？ Rufus grinned down at Dan。 ？Guess your first meeting
went pretty well； huh？ Stayed up late； debating the merits of the minor Shakespeare plays； did
you？？
？Something like that。？ Dan burrowed through another layer of paper before finally reaching the
flaps of the cardboard box。 If there had been any discussion at all the previous night； he couldn？t
remember it。 He could barely remember anything except the sensation of Greg？s tongue on his；
the fuzz of Greg？s facial hair against his own stubble。
Eek。
？I remember my old salon days。？ Rufus perched on the windowsill and watched as his son
reached into the depths of the cardboard box。 Dan pulled out fistful after fistful of crumpled…up
newspaper。 ？We had some pretty crazy times back then。？
？It wasn？t so crazy；？ Dan replied defensively。 At last his hand gripped something firm inside the
mush of newspaper。 Grabbing hold tightly； he pulled on the narrow object until it popped out and
the loose cardboard shell fell to the ground； showering balled…up newspaper all over his floor。
Rufus laughed。 ？Too bad。 You kids today。 No passion； no guts。 I remember back when I was your
age； me and some friends； we？d go out to the lakes； up in New England。 Camp out； write poetry；
stay up all night talking。？
Dan half…listened as he pondered the object in his hands： it was about two feet long and wrapped
tightly in a cocoon of bubble wrap and packing tape。 He dug at the wrapping with his fingernail；
anxiously going over the events of the night before。 How far had he gone with Greg exactly？ How
had he gotten back home？ He had almost no memory of putting himself to bed。 And he？d woken
up in just his favorite pair of red Gap boxer shorts？had he been wearing them yesterday？ He
couldn？t remember。
Rufus had a faraway look in his eye as he continued： ？I remember this one afternoon； out on the
lake； things got pretty heated。 We were all out skinny…dipping and I had this very passionate
argument with Crews Whitestone？you know； the playwright。 We were arguing about the elemental
nature of truth； and things just got so heated； wouldn？t you know it； before long there we were；
rolling around on the beach； wrestling one another to the ground； each trying to get the other to
admit that his conception of the truth was the superior one。？
Dan was only half…listening to his dad？s pornographic mumblings。 He？d found a gap in the
bubble wrap and unwound it from the long； ceramic 。 。 。 thing。
？Yeah； your literary get…togethers today are probably much more dignified； aren？t they？？ Rufus
went on。 ？But that？s how we liked it then： naked； vibrant； duking it out over the truth。 God； those
were the days。？
Still trying to tune out his dad； Dan tossed the excess wrapping aside and considered the vessel in
his hands： it was a long； hollow； tapered column of white ceramic； finished in a soft； inviting glaze。
It was about eighteen inches tall； and open at the top； so it must have been a vase。 At the base were
two small； rounded pieces； one on either side； which helped stabilize the tall； central shaft。 It was a
vase。 It was some…thing。 It was 。。。well； a nicely glazed penis。
Thiswas his sister？s idea of a present？ He put the vase？ or whatever it was？on his bedside table
and eyed it warily。
？Well； I？d recognize that anywhere。？ Rufus chuckled； interrupting his reminiscence。 He picked
up the vase and stroked it gently。 ？You know who made that； don？t you？ Your mother。That？s her
handiwork。？
？Really？？ Dan took the vase back from his father and studied it more carefully。 Maybe he was
mistaken： maybe it resembled a rocket ship in flight； or an alien； or maybe it was an abstract
representation of an earth mother flanked on either side by her children。
Nope。 No matter how he squinted at it or turned his head； it just looked like a big wang。
He turned the vase over to study the base； where he found a tiny； hand…carved inscription： ？A
totem for my son。 Imparted with love。？
Atotem？ What the hell did that mean？ Was his mother trying to tell him something； something
about himself that he？d somehow never managed to figure out before？ He hadn？t seen his mom in
years； and then this？a penis…shaped vase coincidentally shows up in the mail just hours after he？d
made out with a guy？ But he wasn？t gay。 How could he be gay？ He loved girls。 He had loved
Serena van der Woodsen。 He had loved Bree。 And he had loved Vanessa most of all。
Right： the girl who looks like a boy。
Was it possible that he was gay an