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Return To Day (A Short Story On Sexuality)
He sat back, Louis Fleming, looking out into the night void from a central London hospital window, thinking about his life at this point, it was 1945, he was shocked by his own feelings but he finally got it together, with some embarrassment. Now he has to tell his father.
(Louise was born in 1911, but life didn’t really catch up with her until 1933, when she finished college, becoming a registered nurse (RN), a career her father, Dr. Bruce Fleming, had chosen for her, yet he He wanted to be a doctor like her. He did his internship at two hospitals in London, and, although he liked his job and was good at it, he wasn’t completely comfortable with it, meaning, that’s not what it really is if he ignores his father’s influence. Of course, it was one of two conflicts between her and her father, an internal struggle for her, because she loved him so much, and deeply, rooted in the old Victorian tradition, and her somewhat 1920s. A free woman of the decade, the New Age, which F. Scott Fitzgerald called, ‘The Jazz Age’.
It’s 1945, World War II has ended, and still Dr. Fleming’s opinion is anything less than that and his stance on how things should be is taboo (he hasn’t changed), and when he’s with his daughter, the struggle runs through his flesh. They seemed to originate in the marrow of his bones, and the thought of changing them would be terrifying, unthinkable, dishonorable.
Lewis had an affair with Dr. David Marshall in 1937 before the war, only he was married, and would return to his wife, which was a relief to him, so he concluded soon after the event. By the time he met Lisa Morgan, sometime in early 1938, he was learning a female friend was much more pleasant to him, yes, learning, it seemed strange, it seemed right, that he had a friend. , to whom he can talk, when he feels dry and dull, and without words, talks to him and expects nothing in return; A man would never consider that, she concluded. When he started writing his first book, well, a little earlier, but when he tried further, it wouldn’t be finished until 1939. His father told him that he was wasting his time on such matters. , that she should go back to school, find a husband, have children, so that she can have grandchildren, because she was the only girl in the family and should become a doctor, it would be better for her. His thought must have been that his sister could do all this for him; He did not need two daughters according to his wishes.
But as time went on, he had his second book; She used the pen name, Rose Christianson. In 1942, the second book was finished, and still his father did not know; Only that he was writing, as he so clearly stated, for what reason he neither knew, nor cared. In a way, Lewis was shocked she published two books, but then she loved doing it and that’s when she started to question her sexuality.
But during his vacation in the spring of 1938, when Lisa and his went to the coast of England, rented a room in a guesthouse, climbed a nearby mountain, together, drowned in a nearby lake, together, talked for hours. Fourteen nights of staying, talking, drinking and smoking cigarettes, listening to the piano and warming up by the fireplace, everything changed and everything came into question, but still changed.
During the war years of 1944 to 1945, the two of them worked together at the General Hospital, she being the head nurse, as young as he was and not there, the sisters were working. And this day, as he stood at the hospital window, he had now concluded his third book and was now working on his fourth book, all in heterosexual themes and plots, the finality and reality of his fifth book. Time will tip the scale, like it or not, per his choice. She felt free to do so, yes, still a bit confused, but she now accepted that she was a lesbian, and had to face it anyway, it didn’t matter to her father whether it was right or wrong, she wanted to be who she was. , or what he felt he had to be, not fully understanding why, or caring, it was.)
 Lewis left the hospital to meet Lisa at the pub near Trafalgar Square, it was 10:00 p.m., he was working on his fifth book (as I mentioned), “All Her Young Lovers.” It was 1946, he and Lisa were in front of him. Bought a houseboat with some money in advance for the book. It will set up a relationship in the hospital, with a slant, a slight variation of two women in love, yes, a kind of take off from his own life. If he did it intelligently, he knew the public would accept it, if not he would be branded as a type of writer, and restricted to a narrow readership or public and focused only on lesbianism. This was the thorn in his side, how he could satisfy him and his public at the same time and be true to himself and his readers, and how his father would accept it, he would have to find out if he succeeded.
And so Lisa and Louise went down to the Thames together, down south, and fished from the boat, and lived in her cramped quarters like two sardines, but loved it. He was pretty sure at this point, he wouldn’t get back into a heterosexual relationship, yet he asked himself the question, was he bisexual? He didn’t quite blow it off, until Lisa found a boyfriend who had stopped working one day, and here they were on the upper deck of the boat, drinking beer, laughing. He was probably several years older than her, and they seemed to know each other quite well, having only met once: perhaps they were old friends from the hospital, someone she hadn’t told him about, oh well, it was a pain in the stomach when He saw them together. And the jealousy was strong, but it was just intelligent thinking, he couldn’t control Lisa, not like his father wanted to do with him, so Louise had to allow it, and she got to sleep with a doctor friend.
It was probably on the sixth date that Lisa’s older lover tried to force himself on her and she pushed him off the boat into the river, soaking her to the brim; All of this happened when Louise returned home, she was finding her way back to the boat, and cursing Lisa as she walked past the boat to the dock area, and past Louise, they decided not to check at that point. To themselves, it was enough, they were who they were, and didn’t want to lose each other for short-term pleasure.
But Dad still needed to know, and that was the year Lewis confronted him.
“How was it with your father?” asked Lisa.
“As expected, not good, not good at all, she screamed and called me a fag, and shook her head, and tapped her foot, and told me I was going to hell, and she didn’t want me to be a part of it. Her life. And, it’s not like we’re much into each other now.”
There really wasn’t much more to say, Dad said his peace, and so did Luis, yet it broke his heart that they couldn’t have a girl and dad relationship like he had always hoped, seeing that many of his friends had.
And that 1947 came, a really bad and good year for Lewis, made worse by the fact that his father fell ill and died; He was called to her bedside, and for what it was worth, made their peace, but they were still uncomfortable with each other.
This year, his new book became an award-winning book, and he received $100,000-dollars for the rights to turn it into a movie, though it never got past the ideation stage, he got the check. After taxes, 40% (some sort of war recovery tax) he was left with $60,000, still a large sum for the time. It was a break for him and Lisa, they could now go wherever they wanted and Louise could write to her heart’s content.
 Lewis and Lisa sold their houseboat, almost had to give away the big tank, or pay to have it removed and scrapped at the junkyard, but at the last minute, a decent offer came in, about $1000-dollars right, and they snapped it up. , this was really the last and only decent offer and they took a boat, just a suit case, a few boxes of books, and headed off the coast to Cape Town, South Africa, where they would stay. There they bought an 8000-square meter piece of land, built three houses on it, sold two and built an extension with what was left over.
There was one problem though, the two men they went into business with who helped build the house for and with them, but didn’t invest money, just time and effort, Tom Gerard and his brother, Hank, thus resold the houses, house to house. Two owners. The mistake was that they had written a power of attorney from Lewis, who had given it during construction and forgot to cancel. There was a court battle, and Lewis was responsible, I think somebody had to be, and he was the only one available, sad but true, people and judges can catch those who have money, who have no place. It will take years to straighten it out to run. And Tom and Hank are nowhere to be found. And so again, he was legally robbed, once by government taxes, and now the court said he had to make good, paid to buy the house by the second owners, when the other party legally owned it. . If she didn’t agree to settle, she was looking at jail time for cheating, but that would be the last she heard from the two boys, a deep scratch indeed.
It was 1950, when everything settled down and he thought about what to do with his writing. I mean, he must express his soul in his books, in his life, without sequestering his public into a corner, as if to say: take it or leave it. He knew that his lifestyle was not acceptable in Europe, especially in England and especially in America. And so he chose to write about the Greeks.
This was his redemption; He would become a Greek hero, where homosexuality was accepted, like Plato and all the great Greek heroes. He could have reversed the role, he was male, and included the lifestyle from book to book, little by little, until he hit Alexander the Great, there he would triumph over his bisexual life, because all mankind loved Alexander, how could they not know? He was who he was.
And as the years passed, he wrote nine books in succession, including three trips to Greece and studying vases in museums to figure out their life styles on a day-to-day basis. She was so good at it, most readers thought she was a man writing the ancient Greeks, to their dismay, they found out, she was a woman. And so the work became one, and he rarely traveled, except for a little involvement in the South African problems and some isolated individuals of his sexual choice, he did not make waves, besides, he lived too far from the cosmos of humanity to think of meeting him. : He doesn’t have to fight for his lifestyle, just don’t be absurd about it in his writing. And it works.
He died in 1989; A visit from the BBC for an interview, one from a magazine about his life, and that was it.
©2007 by DL Siluk Back in the day
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