Aaron and Andreas

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Author's Comments

This story is the outgrowth of an event which resulted in a very long story, A Special Place, and its parallel sequels, The Concord Five and The Oberlin Five, although it has no direct connection to those. A Special Place was written at the request of a gay student who said, "Doc, you ought to write a story which includes the things you have told us and we have talked about," us being gay students for whom I was a shoulder to cry on, a counselor and, most importantly, friend. One afternoon, I found myself imagining what might have been the story of that young man's acknowledgement of his sexuality. "Aaron and Andreas" is the result of that imagining. It is in no way the real story of that young man's life. It is pure fiction. It is, however, presented in tribute to him. This is for you, D, with thanks wherever you are. May the gods smile on you.

Sequoyah

If you liked this story, you might enjoy A Special Place, posted on Nifty-High School and at http://go.to/gaywritersguild. A note is always appreciated: sequoyah@charter.net.

Andreas and Aaron

Monday, Andreas was off to school and I drove to the station. Ralph greeted me with, "The Superintendent wants to see the two of us. I was told it is some hush-hush project."

When we got to the big man's office, he told us to close the door and take a seat. Before we sat down, he introduced us to Chief Haynes of the Macon Police Department. "Chief Haynes, I'll let you explain what's going on."

"You, of course, know that I-75 runs from Florida north and is the main route for drug distribution from the Florida ports. Macon is a kind of hub for drugs intended for Atlanta, Savannah and Columbus, as well as Macon. The distributors and dealers in Macon are very clever. Macon is small enough that most everyone knows everyone. It's hard for our boys to do anything because they are known. What we want to do is have someone from the outside go underground and see what they can find out. In looking over files, the Superintendent and I were impressed with your record, Johnson. What had special appeal was the fact that Detective Hicks had recommended you in the most impressive way. He asked for you as his partner. I'm convinced the right person could get the information we need in short time--a month, six weeks max."

"Johnson, I suppose I could order you to take the job, but I won't. It's dangerous, and the type of police work that requires the willingness of the person undertaking it. If you accept the task, you'll die in a way not yet determined. In accordance with your wishes, there will be a small private funeral and your ashes scattered somewhere. There will be a big write-up here and in Macon. We'll have to work that out. You will be given a new identity as an ex-con. You will be released on a parole and have to report to your parole officer weekly. He will be your contact. There will be no other contacts. I won't kid you, the job is dangerous. We have lost two officers already to the dealers, at least we think they are responsible. Since you have no family, that problem is eliminated."

"I do have a young man I took in who is my unofficial ward. What will be done about him?"

"I didn't know this. What's the situation?"

I decided if these men were going to be my lifeline, they better be able to handle Andreas' situation, so I told them why he came to live with me. They promised they would keep an eye out for him and told Ralph he could consider checking on Andreas as part of his job. "I'll also look into Kumba Richardson's file, but I will do nothing until you're resurrected," the Superintendent said. "Can't have him snooping around trying to find out where I got my information. Think about the task and let me know in the next day or so. If you decide to take it on, there will be some pretty intense training as well as work creating your new identity. I'd like to have a man on the streets of Macon by next weekend."

"I wouldn't have hesitated a few months ago, but now that I am responsible for Andreas, I'm not sure. He will have to know I am not dead. Given his emotional state now I would not subject him to believing I am dead."

"Do you think he can convince everyone he DOES believe it? I don't! If he knew, I am much afraid it will put you in greater danger," the Chief declared.

"Leave Andreas to me," Ralph said. "If it becomes absolutely necessary, I will tell him, otherwise his distress is your life insurance, Aaron."

"I'll have your answer as soon as I can," I said.

When we got in the car, Ralph said, "Aaron, this is a very dangerous assignment you are being asked to do, but it could make a real difference in the drug trafficking here, and that's why you became a policeman, right?"

"Right, Of course, right. But now? Now I have Andreas to consider. And even that situation is different than it was a week ago. And he graduates in a few weeks. I might miss that."

"We're in a job that does require sacrifices. I'll make sure there is a full video of the event if you aren't here for graduation if you accept the assignment. But what's this about the situation with Andreas changing?"

I had told Ralph nothing about prom weekend beyond the fact that we both had gone and had a good time. "I guess it's now or never," I thought to myself, took a deep breath and told Ralph everything.

"Yeah, the situation is different all right. And you two haven't talked since, I mean about Andreas' confession of love?"

"No, I don't know what to say and I guess Andreas is just waiting for me to say something."

"What are you afraid of?" Ralph asked. "I guess you are not 100% gay. Few are, just as there are few 100% heteros. But, Aaron, LaTonya, Ms. Allen and I have all hinted at what we see and that is you are more on the gay side of the equation than the straight side. I think you know that as well, just haven't admitted it to yourself."

"I know I am confused and I guess I am beginning to admit that I am gay. I know one thing, Ralph, I am falling in love with Andreas, but he's so young."

"Yeah, when you retire at sixty-five he will be only sixty-two and have to take an early retirement and wait three years for medicare!" Ralph laughed. "Right now we need to be talking about how we are going to deal with Andreas if you decide to take the assignment. I'm worried that if he knows you are ok in Macon, he won't be able to hide the fact, or at least won't be able to convince anyone he's devastated by your death, and anyone who knows him will know something is wrong. I know something about what's going on there because I got called in to be asked about you. Aaron, I am convinced when this situation blows, there will be a lot of surprises. Right now I wouldn't trust anyone knowing you are not dead if you take the assignment. Not even Andreas. He might make an innocent slip and get you killed."

"You are right, of course, but at the same time, I can't put him through weeks and months of grieving for me, and he would."

"Certainly true after what you told me about last weekend." We talked over the next two days as we were going about pretty routine matters. I, of course, had said nothing to Andreas. Life had settled back into pretty much the routine it had been in before the prom. Well, not exactly. There was a lot more touching going on, arms around shoulders when it seemed natural. It was increasingly obvious to me that I might not be 100% gay, but I was close to 100% in love with Andreas. That was why it was getting harder all the time for me to do what I did Thursday. Ralph and I went downtown to headquarters as soon as he picked me up. We went to the big man's office and I told him I'd take the assignment. I guess the idea that I might--God knows how--lose Andreas to drugs did it. I had never done anything as hard in my life as saying yes to the assignment.

"Great. I was afraid you wouldn't and I didn't have anyone else as good for the job." We then discussed how it would be handled. I wasn't happy about it, but it was a very good plan.

Thursday, at noon, I got a call on my cell phone--not the police radio--from the superintendent. "Take your car to Perimeter Mall and drive behind the Firestone place. You'll find my car there. Take it and leave yours. The show is hitting the road." At 1:00 we got a call to join in a high-speed chase on I-20 west. It was strange because we saw no other police cars on the way out. Somewhere between Atlanta and Douglasville, we saw two cars burning--very strange. When we arrived, the superintendent and Macon's police chief were the only people present. "How did you guys get here?" Ralph asked as we reach the scene.

"In the two cars," the superintendent answered, pointing to the burning police and other car. "We finally have our bodies." The plan called for a high-speed chase of a "felon" by "Aaron", a chase which ended in a fiery crash. The two cars were to burst into flame, burning the two beyond recognition. The burned bodies would be cremated and the ashes of "Aaron" would be scattered in north Georgia at his request. "Aaron, as of a few minutes ago, is no more. You'll be taken off the payroll as deceased and all the proper papers filed--death certificate, everything. Even start payments on your insurance."

"Superintendent, I haven't changed my beneficiary. I would have changed it to Andreas if I had remembered.

"Aaron, unless this takes over six months, you don't have to worry. It takes ages for insurance to get straightened out--after the request leaves my desk."

I hated the plan, but knew it was the best possible way to get rid of "Aaron". Fortunately, Ralph was the one who would have to comfort Andreas, Jerry, and anyone else who might care.

When the fire department arrived, the superintendent had me in his car along with the Macon chief. When the fire department--it was from Douglasville to make sure no-one recognized me--started putting out the fire, the superintendent left with the three of us in his car. We drove to a secluded spot where the Macon chief's car had been hidden. I got out and before I left said, "Ralph, take care of Andreas and let him know I love him." I looked back as we left, wondering when, or even if, I'd see my friends and Andreas again. It was a sobering thought.

Ralph<<<<<

As the superintendent and I drove back into the city, I found myself on the verge of tears. I was the one who would have to tell Andreas the news, the terrible news, that Aaron was dead. "Ralph, I don't envy you your job, but anyone else talking to the young man would appear strange. The bodies will be taken to the Medical Examiner's as soon as possible, and he has arranged to have his staff attend an in-service until 5:00. He will personally get the bodies to the crematory. The ashes will be available Friday afternoon. The two bodies were two the county would have to bury, so there will be no questions. One's ashes will not be returned from the crematory. The other's ashes, the ones you receive, will be taken to the mountains and scattered. You made sure Aaron left specific instructions about that?" I nodded. "I am hoping he will luck up and break this case soon."

"When can I tell Andreas that Aaron is not dead?"

"Only Aaron can do that. I am not kidding, Ralph, he is going into real danger and I don't want to make it more dangerous than it is."

"Superintendent, I hope there is something in all this for Aaron. He took this case because, as you know, he has suffered greatly because of drugs, but I think there was another reason. A week ago, Andreas told Aaron he was in love with him. Those of us who know Aaron well know he is bisexual if not just gay, but Aaron doesn't know that or admit it. The fact that in high school he dated the same girl for two years and they seldom had sex should say something to him, but he just says he is confused. This assignment will give him time away from all he knows, time to think and sort things out."

"That could be dangerous. He needs his mind on his work."

"I'm betting money that it will make him very careful concerning his neck, and a tiger on the job. At one point in his life, everyone he had cared about was dead from drugs. He sure doesn't want that to happen again."

"I hope you are right."

"I am. Now I have to come up with a reason why Aaron is dead and I am alive and without a scratch."

"Oh, a detail I hadn't thought about. How's this? You had gone to Douglasville to testify in court. A very unimportant case so no-one will remember whether or not you were there. I'll check the docket and pick one."

"I guess I can't put it off any longer."

"Let me know if there is anything I can do. By the way, you have a brand-new car. It's waiting for you."

"Thanks, I guess."

I went down and found my car waiting. Somehow or other it didn't seem right. As I was driving--taking my time--to Aaron's place, I got a call on the radio from the superintendent. "Ralph, I have just learned of your partner's death this afternoon. I'm sorry. Call on me if I can be of help. You're lucky you weren't with him or you'd be burned to death as well. Even though you didn't get called to testify, going to Douglasville was lucky for you."

"I guess I should feel lucky, but I don't."

"The reporters are here now. I'll try to keep them away from you and Aaron's roommate. Again, call on me if I can help."

The superintendent was not a dunce. He knew anything he said over the radio was instant in-house news.

When I reached Aaron's apartment, Andreas opened the door and when he saw me asked, "Where's Aaron? What's wrong? I know something is wrong."

"Let's go inside, Andreas."

Once inside I told Andreas that Aaron was dead. I was prepared for his response, I thought, but when it came, I was not. He fell on the floor, weeping quietly, saying over and over again, "Everything I love is gone with him. I have absolutely no reason to go on living, Ralph. Why couldn't it have been me? Why? Why did Aaron have to die."

I lifted Andreas to his feet and held him close. "Andreas, grab some clothes. You're going home with me."

"No, I'm staying here where I was with Aaron."

"No, you are not. You need people around you. Get some clothes."

Andreas argued, but finally got his things together. When he was ready to go, I said, "Andreas, Aaron once told me if anything ever happened to him, there was a letter in a locked box for me. Do you know where he kept it? He seems to have forgotten to tell me."

"I think it might be on a shelf in his closet." Andreas looked in the closet and called, "Yeah there's a small fireproof box here. You have the combination?"

"Yeah, it's 9-9-0-8. Open it."

Andreas opened the box and took out an envelope. "This is addressed to you and says 'In case of my death or becoming comatose'," he said as he handed me the envelope.

I knew what was in the envelope since I had read it carefully after Aaron had written it. It simply said, in case of his death, his body was to be cremated and the ashes scattered off the cliffs overlooking the river in north Georgia--"Jerry and Andreas know the place". The scattering was to be private, only the Coghills, myself, Andreas were to be present. It also said, "Tell Andreas I love him".

"Andreas, get clothes together, we're going." When I got the kid home, Lucy took charge. The woman had been a wonderful wife for thirty-five years and a wonderful mother for thirty. Andreas, in his distress, pushed all her mother buttons. Understandably, Andreas said he wanted nothing to eat, but Lucy hovered over him, doing motherly things for him. There was no reason she should do otherwise as she had not been told about Aaron's assignment. She actually got him to eat a little supper and, as soon as he had finished, took him to the guest room. "I think you need a long hot shower," she said, "then get in your pajamas and try to relax".

Andreas was on automatic pilot, which apparently was attuned to Lucy's frequency. It was obvious he was just going through the motions. After a long shower, he called me and said, "Ok if I sleep in boxers? That's what I generally do."

"Sure. Sleep in your birthday suit if you like."

"Don't think Lucy would appreciate that."

"You might be surprised," I countered, and got a faint smile out of the kid.

The superintendent had given me some sleeping pills for Andreas. "No need for him to suffer more than he has to," he had said. "See that he gets one as soon as you think he's needs to go to bed."

It was only 9:00 when I finally got Andreas to take a pill and go to sleep. When I checked on him before turning in myself, he was asleep, but his sleep was restless. When I told Lucy about Andreas' statements about having no reason to go on living, she insisted I sleep in the guest room with him--in spite of the fact there was no reasonable way he could do away with himself in there. I slept little, what with worrying about Aaron, Andreas and being cramped in a twin bed.

When Andreas cried out at five in the morning, I went to him and held him while he wept. Lucy had heard him and came to the guest room with a glass of water and another sleeping pill. He took the pill and was soon asleep again, sleeping until nearly noon.

I was anxious to see Saturday morning's paper to see just how big a story Aaron's "death" had been. There was almost a half-page story on the front of the "Home" section. It was made up of several different articles. One had a picture of Aaron in his uniform and the story of his "death". Additionally, there was a graduation picture and story about his years at College Park, a sidebar about his decision to enter police work because of what crack had done to him. I was surprised. There was also a separate article about the "felon" he had been chasing when the crash occurred. It was a story designed to be picked up by the Macon paper, since the "felon" was supposedly from Macon.

When Andreas got up, Lucy got him to eat something, after which he showered and dressed. Before he got up, I had called Jerry and told him the news and of Aaron's request that his ashes be scattered in north Georgia. Jerry asked about Andreas and I told him he was with me. We talked a long time about Aaron and just before I hung up he said, "You know Andreas was in love with Aaron, don't you?".

"Yeah, Aaron told me about prom weekend."

"Did he tell you he was in love with Andreas or hadn't he found out?"

I laughed, "You know he would be the last to know, but I think it had dawned."

"Let me know what the plans are. We can drive up to mom's place this afternoon or in the morning."

"I'd like to make it as quick as possible for Andreas' sake."

I got a call from the funeral home mid-afternoon telling me I could pick up the ashes after 4:00. "And, Mr. Hicks, we will have a selection of urns from which to choose," the undertaker had said.

"No need. The ashes will go directly to the place where they are to be scattered."

Andreas was sitting in the kitchen with Lucy. If he needed a mom right now, he had a good one. She seemed to know just exactly what to do with our son when he was upset, and she was working that magic on Andreas. "Andreas, you need to get dressed for a trip to north Georgia. We can pick up the ashes at 4:00 and we will drive directly to north Georgia. Jerry and Susan are on their way now."

"I need to go back to the apartment. I only have these"--he stuck out a foot--"and I will need my hiking shoes."

"Ok, when you are ready."

"I'm ready right now." Andreas gave Lucy a big hug and said, "Thanks, Lucy. You don't know how much I appreciate what you have done for me."

"Think nothing of it and I expect to see you around here often," she said, returning his hug.

There was silence in the car as we drove to the apartment. Andreas disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared dressed for a hike. While we were there the phone rang. It was the superintendent. "Ralph, I got to thinking: after all the build-up, we were letting this funeral take too much of a backseat. The director himself has raked me over the coals about that--by the way, he doesn't know. He insists on his car taking you and the boy to north Georgia with police escort. Additionally, each time you cross a county line, the sheriff will have deputies ready to escort you to the next county. It will make good copy for the news."

I told Andreas about the escort. I didn't know what he'd think about it, but he said he thought Aaron deserved at least that.

The chief's car came for us at 4:00 and we went to the funeral home, picked up the small black plastic box with "cremains", and headed for north Georgia. The chief's driver had said he would drive as slowly as we wanted, "out of respect".

"I don't think Aaron would approve of us holding up traffic," Andreas said. "Let's go to north Georgia." Whereupon the blue lights came on and the sirens started, a Fulton County deputy leading. We were driving at maximum safe speed. When we reached Fannin County, the sirens were turned off and we proceeded with a bit more decorum to the Coghills', arriving at 6:30--a new speed record, I suspect.

Mrs. Coghill met the car and immediately took Andreas in her arms, hugging him close. We walked inside where Mrs. Coghill had a huge supper waiting. When Andreas said he wasn't hungry, Mrs. Coghill said she wasn't surprised, but everyone was expecting him for supper. "You need to be strong, Andreas."

The psychology worked. Andreas sat down and when Mrs. Coghill had served his plate, he started picking at his food as the Coghills started telling tales on Aaron. There was a lot of laughter as friends remembered him. I wished I had a tape for Aaron. He would have had a blast with it. Andreas was probably not aware of it, but he was eating, putting away a lot of food.

When everyone had finished supper, Mrs. Coghill told everyone to go to the deck, "The evening is nice. I'll bring coffee and dessert." The mood became very solemn once we were outside. I noticed Andreas had separated himself from the group as a whole. He refused coffee and dessert when Mrs. Coghill offered it to him. We had been outside for a short time when I heard a car drive up. Shortly afterward, a young man walked onto the deck. Andreas turned and when he saw the young man, he got up and ran to him, saying, "Edward, Edward, he's dead". Edward took Andreas in his arms and the two wept. Finally, Edward took Andreas' hand and led him down the steps. I saw them as they walked along the bank of the stream running behind the Coghills' house.

I didn't know when Andreas came back. Mrs. Coghill had shown me to a room about 8:00 and I was in bed shortly afterward, exhausted from the past two days. I'm not a very religious man, but I sure sent a few up on behalf of Aaron and Andreas. I had been told by Andreas we would be leaving the house at 4:30, because he wanted to scatter the ashes at sunrise.

Four came very early and I was half-asleep as we walked in silence through the forest where there was just enough light for us to make our way to the cliffs overlooking the river. Andreas stood at the edge of the cliff, holding the box with the ashes. Edward was standing beside, his arm over Andreas' shoulders. As the sun rose above the horizon, Andreas opened the box and scattered the ashes over the cliff's edge. The light from the rising sun caught the falling ashes, turning them into a stream of red and gold. "You are missing a grand funeral, Aaron," I thought.

When we returned to the house, Mrs. Coghill finished a grand breakfast and everyone ate. After breakfast, Andreas asked if we could wait until afternoon to go back to Atlanta. We were going back with Jerry and he said he was in no hurry. "Edward and I are going for a hike," Andreas said. "We'll be back before too late." It was only much later that I learned Andreas wanted to talk about Aaron and his love for him, and he trusted Edward to listen and to keep his secret. Andreas told me what he had wanted after I asked him if he was falling for Edward a couple weeks later, when Edward came to Atlanta to spend the weekend with him.

When we got back to Atlanta, I insisted Andreas come to my place. "You don't need to be alone right now. Besides, Lucy will kill me if I didn't bring you back so she could baby you." I insisted he stay with us the whole following week. He only went to the apartment to pick up what he needed. Friday morning at breakfast, Andreas said, "I have been here long enough. I'll go home after school today. I need to get on with my life." As he spoke, tears started running down his face. My heart cried for him.

I checked on Andreas every day, either by driving by or phoning. Two weeks after the "funeral", I asked Andreas if he needed anything. "Ralph, this is kinda embarrassing, but I am out of money. I guess I should have realized my freeloading was over but, with everything else going on, I didn't think about it. Could I borrow some until I can find a job and earn some money?"

"Haven't you been getting a check from the department? I know Aaron intended to name you as beneficiary of his insurance. I'll check for you tomorrow. Do you need money tonight?"

"No, I can get by a day or so. Thanks, Ralph. Thanks for everything."

I went straight to the superintendent the next morning. He saw me at once and was most apologetic about not having taken care of getting money to Andreas. "Detective Johnson will have our heads if that's not taken care of now. Since he is 'dead', he is no longer on the payroll. I'm holding the paperwork on his insurance. He is really on his own in Macon. I'll see that a weekly check goes to Andreas. In the meantime, I'll get a couple hundred in cash to him today."

Andreas was staying at the apartment and seemed to be handling his grief very well. Lucy insisted that he come for dinner at least once a week. I kept in touch with Ms. Allen. She said Andreas was obviously grieving, but not in an unhealthy way. "He's doing his grief work very well, I think," she told me.

As I mentioned earlier, Edward came down to spend a weekend with Andreas, and Jerry had taken him to the Coghills' another. The next week, Andreas told me, Jerry had called and asked about moving in with him. "He said he and Susan had a long and serious talk and, as much as they loved each other, it was clear it would never work out. Jerry is living for the day he can get hired as a Fannin County deputy and move back to the mountains. Susan had just about had enough the weekend she went to the mountains with me and Aaron. She was convinced she could never live in the mountains after a weekend camping trip. She's a city girl and Jerry is a mountain man. Jerry had moved in with her and let his apartment go, so he is looking for a place to live and thought it would be a good idea for him to move in with me. I think it is a good idea as well."

I agreed with Andreas and told Jerry so when I had breakfast with him one morning. "Ralph, I need to know something. When I got to Andreas' place the night I moved in, he said he had to get clean sheets for Aaron's bed. 'Sometimes when it gets to be just too much and I can't sleep, I sleep in his bed--it still smells like Aaron. But I made my bed for you and put clean sheets on Aaron's bed, but I still want to sleep in it.' Don't you think that is strange?"

"Didn't you have a security blanket when you were a kid?" I asked him.

"Yeah, but I gave it up before I went to school."

"You gave it up when your life changed. Andreas life changed when you moved in, so he gave up the security blanket. You've got to remember he had just confessed his love to Aaron, and had a real hope it was being returned, when his world was shattered. Anything he can hold on to is ok." Jerry nodded agreement.

Graduation sneaked up on me. I had to rush around to make sure it was videotaped, but I did get arrangements made for that. Lucy had insisted on having a party for Andreas after graduation. Jerry had asked his mom and Edward to come down for the event, which pleased Andreas to no end, so they all showed up for a cook-out at our place.

The graduation program listed the scholarships accepted by students. That was the first time I had known Andreas had accepted an academic scholarship to Emory. When I asked him about it, he said the doctors thought he could play basketball as there was no permanent damage they could see. "But I looked at my chances of ending up in the NBA--frankly, I'm not really interested in basketball and am somewhat frightened that I might be permanently injured playing. With those feelings I realized ending up in the NBA was not likely to happen. Besides, what I really want to do is go into medicine and Emory is the best place for that."

He had a week between graduation and going to work at the Center for Disease Control. Edward invited him to come to the mountains for the week saying they could get in a camping trip and just laze around before both started their summers. He went and it turned out to be a great week indeed.

When he came back, he threw himself into his internship at the CDC and Jerry said he thought he was doing great. "But you know, he tells me sometimes he knows, he just knows, Aaron is not dead. What do I need to do about that?"

"Nothing, just let him talk about it."

Several weeks after Aaron's death, Jerry told me Andreas woke up in the night, the first time for a while, and said Aaron was in danger. "He went out on the balcony and just sat. I think he may need help."

"Give him some time," I advised Jerry. Truth be told, it was kind of spooky.

Aaron<<<<<

I was having a really hard time leaving Andreas thinking I was dead, but after the chief had briefed me on my way down, I realized it had to be that way or he really would be left behind when I got a bullet in the head.

I was surprised when we did not drive directly to Macon. Instead, when we reached Forsythe, the chief started taking back roads until we were in the middle of nowhere. He had turned down a barely visible trail--it couldn't be called a road. After we were completely surrounded by trees and vines, he stopped, we got out and walked about half a mile further down the trail. There was a beat-up truck in the middle of the road. "That's your transportation for now," the chief said. "Drive on down this trail for about a mile and you will find a hunting cabin on the river. That will be home for the next few days, probably a week. There will be two police officers waiting for you. They will work with you creating an identity, a story, and giving you all the information we have. You are not to leave the cabin until you are ready to become Oscar Carter, your new name.

I found the cabin as promised and was welcomed by two police officers who looked like anything but. They were narcotics agents who had been undercover, but now suspected they had been identified. Their names were Kenyatta and Chandler. "I was named for Joel Chandler Harris," Chandler said. "Not surprising I get called Uncle Remus," he laughed.

The first thing they did was have me empty my pockets, putting everything in a bag which they hid in the attic. "Any of that could get you killed," Kenyatta said. They took the clothes I'd been wearing and put them in a garment bag, and it was hidden in the attic as well. I was given jeans and a shirt to wear. "When you are ready to go into town, we have state-issued clothing. The story is you are just out of prison on parole. Here are your papers and your wallet with identification--everything you need including about twenty dollars. After that's gone, you will be on your own. All your things will be sent back to Atlanta as soon as you leave here."

I looked at my driver's license and discovered I was, indeed, Oscar Carter.

"Let's have supper and a relaxed evening since it will be the last relaxing time we have," Chandler said.

Friday morning we were up at eight and had breakfast, then started working on my identity. I had my "story" down by lunch but, as the two guys said, only in my rational brain. "You have to get it to the point it is natural or you'll slip up."

In the afternoon, we started going over files, trying to see some way to get at the major drug distributor in Macon. "The facts are few and simple," Kenyatta said. "We know huge amounts of cocaine are coming into Macon and are picked up and taken to Atlanta, Columbus and Savannah. We know it comes from Florida. But how it gets from Florida to here and from here to the three other cities is a mystery. We also suspect that all the drugs going to Atlanta do not stop there. At least as much as goes to Columbus is picked up in Atlanta and taken to Chattanooga. Again, we don't know how. The money flowing into Macon must be going somewhere, but we don't know where. Finding out is your job."

"I always did like easy assignments," I smiled.

"Seriously, Oscar, we are stumped and have had no breaks. Frankly, if you just get out alive it will be a success. To actually break the case will be a miracle. I am serious, Bro," Kenyatta said.

We broke for supper and, afterwards, sat around talking. I suddenly realized Chandler had addressed me as Oscar and I had started responding as such. Supper Friday was the end of Aaron so far as I was concerned.

Saturday we spent learning about my "cellmate". He was from Macon and I had learned some things from him. For fear someone might contact him, he was being moved to a high-security prison up north and kept in isolation. Absolutely no communication was allowed him. "Sounds kinda unfair to him," I observed.

"Don't bleed too much for him," Kenyatta said. "He's serving three consecutive life sentences. He was asked if he'd like to be part of an experiment with a private cell as a reward. Since things are so crowded in Georgia prisons, inmates are sleeping on the floor, he jumped at the chance."

After an hour of intensive study, we would take a fifteen-minute break. After the break, I'd be quizzed on what I had been told since the first session. Generally I did well, but when I made a major boo-boo, Chandler would remark quietly, "You're dead, Oscar". It made an impression.

Sunday, a week later, after lunch the two left me on my own and disappeared in the bedroom. It was half an hour before they came back. I would not have recognized either of them, they had so altered their appearance. They handed me a new outfit which included a baseball cap and dark glasses. "We're going into Macon and, basically, just drive around so you can put things with names you know. We'll not get out of the truck. I don't think anyone will be able to identify us, but we don't want to take any chances."

We drove around Macon for about an hour. The two pointed out places I would need to know, including a couple places I might get help. I didn't relish putting up at Union Mission, but I might well have to spend nights there until I could get on my feet. I'd need a job quickly, but had no idea what I might do. I had to keep my lack of education, as Oscar, in mind.

Monday and Tuesday continued my education about Macon. Wednesday I was taken to a back alley in Macon and put on the street. "You're to report to your parole officer Fridays at ten. He will arrange to be alone when you show up. Your officer is Jake Halcombe. He's the supervising officer so he has a private office to protect you. You have the phone number you can call if you absolutely need help. You don't have it written down do you?"

"No. All I have on me is my wallet, nothing else."

Dressed as a newly released prisoner, I waited until the two had gone before walking out of the alley. I planned to show up at the Union Mission later, but first I wanted to just walk around Macon, testing my internal map against reality.

I showed up at the mission in time to be preached to and prayed over, the cost of a not-too-bad supper. Tickets for the night shelter were passed out before we went to supper, but I decided the weather was good enough for me to sleep outside somewhere.

After supper, a youngish man asked me where I was staying. I told him I was just out of the "state hotel" and didn't know Macon that well. He invited me to join him in an abandoned building on the edge of town. There were five or six other people inside. "Dere be only one other sane person here," he told me. "De other four be dumped on the street after dere ninety days in Milledgeville. Of course, de first thing dey done is throw 'way dere medication, so de voices is back. I think dey be harmless, but I doan have nothin' to do with dem."

I slept with one eye open, but nothing happened. In the morning, Simon, that was the young guy's name, asked if I'd like to do some work. "Pay be bad, but no strings." I agreed and we went into a residential part of Macon--large old homes with extensive gardens. We went to a back door where a maid answered the bell. "Fanny Mae," Simon said when she appeared, "I sho' de madam need some garden work done, an' yo' be havin' two healthy, good-lookin' brothers to do it". Fanny Mae laughed and said, "Yo' brothers might be good-looking, but yo' sho' needs a hot scrubbing to get rid of de dirt an' stink. When yo' goin' get a real job an' be somebody?"

"Next week for sho' but right now I needs a little pocket change."

"I'll see if Madam be needin' work done. Where yo' pick up dat good-lookin' dude yo' be having with yo'?"

"Well, Fanny Mae, dis good brother be called Oscar an' he be lookin' for work after an extended vacation at de state five-star hotel."

"What yo' be in of?"

"Drug dealing. But I be innocent."

"Dat what dey all say," she answered.

Remembering to keep the dialect was harder than I thought. I had worked so hard for years getting rid of it that using it just felt wrong. Since I said I wasn't from Macon a slip now and then might be expected, but no major ones.

Fanny Mae disappeared and came back shortly. "Yo' be in luck. Madam say her gardener done gone an' slipped under de lawn mower an' ain't gonna be back fo' weeks. Here de list of what she be wantin' done an' here de key for de tool shed."

The first item on the list was mowing and edging the lawn. Simon got on the riding mower and started. I took a weed-eater and started trimming up the lawn. Simon finished before I did and started edging. At noon, Fanny Mae brought up plates piled high, and iced tea. We sat in the shade of a huge oak and ate. After we finished, Simon took the plates back and we lay under the tree resting. I needed it.

"Know where I might land a regular job?" I asked. "Know it ain't gonna be easy after my vacation, but I doan take well to street life."

"Doan neither. I got put on de street by my mama after she caught me doin' weed. Jest been on de street fo' a few days, but knowed most of de street dudes from ditchin' school. I be workin' in de gardens in dis neighborhood since I big enough. Jest luck old Washington cut he's foot. Lookin' like a job jest waitin' to be had. Yo' know, I gonna introduce you around and maybe de two of us can have a summer job jest workin' gardens."

I didn't know how much investigating I could get done working with Simon, but right now I needed money. Simon was right: the pay was bad, but better than I expected and there was no tax as it was all under the table. By the middle of the next week, we had lined up five places and went on a regular schedule, a house a day. Any extra meant extra money. We also did pickup jobs on Saturday. By the end of the second week, I was surprised at how much I had to tell Jake. Never think your servants don't know all there is to know about you. I saw the dynamic often. Madam or Mister talked as though the servant was a piece of furniture.

My second Sunday in Macon, Simon had gone home and asked to come back. His mama had let him come back home and recommended I take a room with Miss Janie, an ancient black retired school teacher and matriarch of the black community.

I went around to Miss Janie's place and asked if she had a room I could rent. She grilled me up one side and down another. Finally she said, "You may be on parole from the state of Georgia, but you're on probation with me. One tiny slip and you are out of here. Understand?" I nodded. "And I need your first four weeks rent. In advance, now." I had the money and the rent on the room was practically nothing, particularly when she told me it included breakfast and supper. I was at her place only a few days when I realized she took in boarders for company more than the money and was treating me like a nephew.

I made it through the week ok, thinking of Andreas only a few minutes at the time. I was busy, working hard at my jobs and trying to find out something about the drug scene in Macon. So far all I had learned was that weed was plentiful, but that was not my concern. Sundays were another matter. I slept late and then had the whole day to think about Andreas. After one particularly painful Sunday morning, I told Miss Janie I was going down to the river. "Don't go without a fishing pole," she said, went in the house and returned with one. "You can dig worms at the edge of the garden in the mound of dirt, I feed 'em there," she said. I did as she said and had a can of worms quickly.

I walked up the river a ways, to where the path along the river just petered out, sat under a large willow and started fishing and thinking about Andreas. I wondered what he was doing, how he was doing, if he still missed me, that sort of thing. I had pushed his confession of love for me in the very back of my mind, but here on a lazy Sunday afternoon with no sound except the river flowing by, it came back with a rush. I wondered if I had taken the assignment to avoid facing my feeling for Andreas and the fact that I might be--was--gay. I thought about that and the beating Andreas had received because his mom found out he was gay. Most communities are homophobic, and even the most accepting has its share of bigots, but the black community takes homophobia to new heights. It always puzzled me how blacks who were out-and-out racist, hating whites, could align themselves with skinheads and other white racists, when it came to homophobia. I guess that was why I had very carefully avoided coming to terms with my sexuality.

My high school girlfriend had been a good cover, and she was a cover I saw now. We seldom had sex and it was good... no, it wasn't good. If I was really honest, she didn't turn me on that much. By the time that would have become a real problem, her mind was on crack, not me. I was sure dumb. She had been on crack for a good long while before I found out. I tried to get her to get help, but she overdosed instead.

Anyway, here I was alone, with nothing to do but sort out my feelings. I thought back over my time with Andreas. Every minute seemed vivid and crystal clear and standing outside it, it became equally clear that I loved the guy, not as a younger brother or friend, although I definitely had those feelings as well, but as one gay man loves another. Yeah, I was gay and admitted it, and I was in love and admitted that. When I realized how I think I would have felt had I thought he was dead, I started crying, huge tears running down my face. I decided then and there to get busy and see if I couldn't get back to him soon--before he found someone else.

It was a good thing I had reached a conclusion about myself, because suddenly the fish started biting and I had a good string when I walked back to Miss Janie's. She was thrilled with the fish. I had no idea what to do with them, but she showed me how to gut and filet them in a few smooth motions. I couldn't do as well as she did, but we did have fish ready for the frying pan and we both enjoyed the results of my fishing trip--I doubly so because I had come to grips with who I was.

After supper each evening, I sat with Miss Janie on her front porch as she commented on the passing traffic. She was a gold mine of information. My big break came the Sunday evening of my fishing trip. A big, black Cadillac came down the street slowly and Miss Janie said, "Yeah, drive slow and show off, now that you're respectable". After the car passed, I asked Miss Janie who it was.

"That was Sister Rose. She was a small-time dope dealer, just weed, then suddenly she got religion and, before you could say 'Amen', she was building her Cathedral of Tomorrow. Millions she's poured into it, millions I don't know where she gets. She draws a big crowd, that's for sure, what with three-four gospel choirs, each with its own orchestra of ten-fifteen people. Each choir has its own big bus and tours all over the place."

"They make tours?"

"Yes, one or more on tour every weekend. Leave Friday and back Sunday night for the big show at her place. Until a few months ago, she was holding forth in a warehouse she rented, but the grand opening of the Cathedral of Tomorrow--which will seat over two thousand--was three-four months ago."

"Who's behind her? Surely she didn't start out with piles of money."

"I'm not sure who all, but I do hear she's connected with that black undertaker. Funerals have gotten bigger and bigger, but the prices undercut the white establishments. When somebody dies, the family gets flowers from the Cathedral of Tomorrow with a letter and booklet, which says something about sympathy and an offer of their facilities. I understand the new building has a 'Slumber Room' for funerals. That big-shot lawyer Jason Stanley Story is also all mixed up in the whole thing. I don't know how they are all connected, but they are. That black undertaker even sends all bodies to be funeralized to Atlanta to be fixed up. Says they do a better job." Suddenly wheels started spinning in my head. Maybe Miss Janie was on to something without realizing it.

"How'd you like to check out this Cathedral of Tomorrow tonight. We'd at least hear some good gospel singing."

"We got time? I'll have to change."

"Sure. I suspect we could come and go just about any time."

I'll say one thing for Sister Rose: she sure knew how to put on a show. She was dressed in a long, slinky gold dress, parading in front of a gospel choir dressed in red. She was the star and she knew it. The choir was good, very good, and I could see why they could tour as much as they wanted. Miss Janie and I stayed for an hour and the show was still going when we left. As we left, I picked up three or four brochures from a tract rack in the entrance hall--and it was an entrance hall. It was as large as many churches, three stories high, with a chandelier at least fifty feet across. Great sweeping stairs led up to the two balconies and three sets of massive bronze doors opened onto the main floor. All in all, it was a cross between an opera house and a high-priced whorehouse. Yes, Sister Rose had money coming from somewhere.

When I got back to my room, I looked at the brochures. There was one listing the governing body and I noticed that Jason Stanley Story was listed as attorney, treasurer and vice president. Sister Rose was president and executive officer. Willie Brown was secretary and chairman of arrangements. That was it. There were no other officials. I soon learned who Willie Brown was, because one of the brochures was "The Cathedrals of Tomorrow and the Bereaved." He was "that black undertaker" Miss Janie had talked about. A third brochure listed the activities for the week. There were the usual services, Bible study--all you would expect in a going church--but the choir schedule caught my attention. There were four gospel choirs. One would be at the Cathedral for Wednesday but would be on tour to Savannah over the weekend. One would be present for Sunday morning services, one had a week for relaxation and one would be touring to Columbus. There were two funerals scheduled, one Thursday and one Friday.

I lay back on the bed, an idea forming in my mind. I didn't get far before Andreas took over my thoughts. I wanted so much to tell him to wait for me, because I really loved that man. I drifted off to sleep and dreamed of Andreas, not a nightmare as so many of my dreams had been since I came to Macon, but a beautiful dream of making sweet love to Andreas who was, truly, the man of my dreams.

I was careful, but I asked a lot of questions about Sister Rose and the Cathedral of Tomorrow during the week. I found nothing to either confirm or deny the idea I was working on in my head. Friday, when I made my report to Jake, I asked if it was possible to get an audit of the books of the funeral home, Jason Stanley Story and the Cathedral of Tomorrow. "Also you need to be ready to audit the tax returns of Story, Sister Rose and the undertaker," I told him.

"I'm sure we can get an audit done without arousing suspicion, especially the businesses. What do you expect to find?"

"I'm not sure, but there's an awful lot of money being made off of drugs I've been told, and no-one knows what happens to it. I just wonder if it's not being laundered by the church. Something's fishy there. Too much money too quick."

I also asked him if he could get me price lists from the other three funeral homes in Macon. "That should be an easy one," he said.

I decided to go back to the church Sunday night. I picked up the weekly activities brochure. There were no funerals scheduled, but three of the choirs were touring, again to Columbus, and Savannah and this week one was going to Atlanta. I picked up another activity sheet entitled "Cathedral Partners". It reported that three churches had joined with the cathedral ministries--one each in Columbus, Savannah and Atlanta. "Our gospel choirs will be supplying music at these new Cathedrals of Tomorrow. The gospel choirs can always use new voices to help spread our ministry," the sheet said. It seemed strange to me that the three cities couldn't come up with gospel choirs of their own.

I decided to check out the Ebony Funeral Home's business. They offered a "pre-need" policy and I went after work Wednesday to discuss a pre-need plan. I went for two plans, one the absolute maximum and the other second best. I guess I should have known, but I was thunderstruck by the cost of dying, especially if you wanted to go first class.

I took my "pre-need" plan with me when I went to see Jake. "Turned out, even given the federal regulations requiring funeral homes to provide price lists, it wasn't as easy as I thought," Jake said as he spread the price lists on his desk. "There's something rotten in Denmark," he said as he compared Ebony's prices to the others. "Someone is making a killing, no pun intended, or someone is going broke. Look at this. On comparable items, Ebony is 200% below the others." He picked up his phone and told his secretary to get a casket company on the phone. When she rang him, he got passed from person to person until he was angry. "Look, I need to know the cost to an undertaker for three models of your caskets. It is part of a criminal investigation. Now you can either give me the prices or prepare for warrants for an audit and search... I thought I was being reasonable. Just give me the three numbers... Thanks. Well, it seems both statements are true, someone is making a killing and someone is losing money. Ebony is selling caskets at cost. There is no way they can be making money. I will be interested in what an audit shows up."

I went to a Wednesday night service and had a brainstorm. I had a decent voice, so I volunteered for a gospel choir. Seems you get fitted for a robe and ready for the bus by Friday night. The choir I was in was scheduled to go to Savannah, where it was highly unlikely anyone would know me.

I had been in Macon six weeks, as long as I was told I would be and was still not finished. I wanted to see Andreas and make sure he was ok at least. At best, I'd like him to kiss me as he did prom night--and then some.

Friday night I got to the cathedral early and did a little snooping around. The choir buses--luxury models and more--were out back being loaded. I was surprised when they came around front for the choir to load because the baggage area on the opposite side of the buses was being loaded. The orchestra's instruments were loaded, then the choir's things. We had all been given identical garment bags and suitcases for our choir robes and clothes and the luggage compartment wouldn't hold them all. I expected to be told to take my things to the other side of the bus, but that didn't happen. They went on top of the bus.

Once we were in Savannah, the buses went to the motel where we were all staying, two to a room. Our belongings were unloaded and the buses left. I heard the drivers talking about getting together at a bar as soon as, "we get the stuff unloaded". The church was several blocks from the motel and I wanted to see if I could find out what "the stuff" was. I walked around to the side of the motel and got a taxi in a few minutes and gave him the address of the church. I got out, paid the driver and walked down an alley leading to the street behind the church. I was in time to see the last bags, identical to our suitcases, being unloaded from the side of the bus not used and taken into the church. I decided I had all the information I needed except for one more thing. I decided to contact Jake as soon as I got back to Macon.

We rolled into Macon late Sunday night, and I went straight to Miss Janie's and hit the sack. I lay there thinking about what I had concluded, and decided I'd wait a little longer to see if I could find the last piece of the puzzle. I had a real nightmare and even woke up Miss Janie. I dreamed I was in a casket, unable to move, and Andreas was standing over me crying. Miss Janie fixed me a "little toot", good Tennessee sour mash with lemon and a splash of water. "I keep this for medicinal purposes," she said. "Better than any sleeping pill, at least more enjoyable." She sat on the edge of the bed, holding my hand and singing a lullaby. The combination worked.

Monday, I found a phone booth near where we were working and called Jake. "Jake, be ready to move," I said. "I think I've got it figured out. Check something for me. Find out where the casket company has factories. I'll be in touch."

Monday night I told Miss Janie I was going for a long walk to clear my head so I'd sleep. I hadn't been around the funeral home, so I thought I'd check it out. I don't know what I expected to find, and really saw nothing unusual except there was a tractor-trailer rig parked at the back of the main building behind a high hedge. The truck and trailer both had Ebony Funeral Home, Macon, Georgia on them. Why would a funeral home need a tractor-trailer rig? I had a hunch, but that was all.

Tuesday I had a hard time getting away from Simon. He had been to a big party Saturday and was still carrying on about it. It was after work when I finally got to a public phone and called Jake at home. "What did you find out?" I asked.

"Ebony buys from two companies, remember? Both have plants in the southeast as you might expect. One has them in Tennessee, Alabama and Florida. The other has plants in Georgia and Florida. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah. Don't know how you can do it, but I need to know where the caskets Ebony uses comes from."

"I'll see what I can do," he replied.

When I got back, Miss Janie was sitting on the porch. It was still hot and her house was not air-conditioned. I pulled up a rocker and sat beside her. "Miss Janie, thanks for Sunday night. I really had a nightmare and a half."

"Surprised you haven't had more after being in prison. Is prison as bad as people say?"

"Worse. It's hard to talk about. There are all sorts of bad things going on, but not being able to go and come as you please is punishment enough. 'Course, it wouldn't be as bad except every con looks out for himself and has no care for anybody else. Yeah, it was really bad."

We rocked in silence for a while, then she said, "Oscar, for some reason I just can't see you in prison. No sir, you just don't act like a former con. Don't know why but, somehow or other, it just don't fit."

I made no response, but took that as a warning. I had been around her and Simon long enough to relax a little, a little too much, I suspected. I had better watch it.

I had a real stroke of luck Wednesday. One of our regulars had asked Simon if he could do some work for a friend of hers. "After hours, of course." Simon agreed and we went to her place, after we finished our regular work, and worked until it was almost dark. It was only slightly out of my way, so I went by Ebony. I saw the tractor-trailer pulled up to the back of the funeral home and caskets being unloaded. I kept moving closer, trying to see what was going on. I accidentally kicked a soda can, making a loud noise. The guys unloading the trailer dropped the casket they were carrying and started running toward me. One of them definitely had a gun out. I quickly hid in some bushes. I was hoping they would just look around and go back to work, but there was another noise right beside me. The fellow with the gun shot, hitting me in the shoulder. I was prepared for him to find me and finish his job, but I was saved by a huge orange tomcat. He had made the noise and when the guy shot, the cat let out a yowl and headed straight for for him. He took a couple shots at the cat as it ran away. "You be shootin' a mutherfuckin' cat, shithead." The four guys picked up the casket and started carrying it into the funeral home.

As soon as they were inside, I got up and started running. At the next block, I hid in some bushes to see if I could stop the bleeding from my wound. I was losing a lot of blood and I knew it. I was six or seven blocks from Miss Janie's, an easy walk under ordinary circumstances, but I could feel myself growing weaker. I tore strips from my T shirt and took the rest of it and made a compress. I couldn't do much with just my right hand, but I did get the strips tied, I hoped tight enough to stop the bleeding.

I didn't want to be found walking down the street, so I cut across backyards. As I cut across one, I realized I had made a mistake as a huge dog started barking. Fortunately he was tied up, but he did alarm the neighborhood. I finally realized I was going to pass out soon if I didn't get help. I decided I'd take a chance and take the most direct route to Miss Janie's. I was only a block away when I started having little blackouts. When I did, I'd wake up lying in the street. I started thinking about Andreas. "Man, if you don't get moving, you'll never make it and he'll never know. You'll never get that kiss you want so bad. Andreas, I need you, man. I need your help." I was going on blind will when I turned into the gate of Miss Janie's. I collapsed, not knowing whether I had made it or not.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. I could see a maze of wires and tubes, but little else. "You ok, Oscar?" It was Miss Janie's voice.

"I think so. I mean I'm not ok, but better than I expected."

"I didn't know what to do other than call the EMS. You walked up on the porch and promptly fell down. Son, you came very close to meeting your Maker. The police are outside, waiting to question you when you are conscious."

"Miss Janie, this is very important. I can't speak to them yet. I want you to call someone for me." I gave her Jake's home phone number. "Ask for Jake and tell him what happened. Tell him he needs to get here at once and to be ready to jump. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure. I'll tell the policeman you are still out."

"Ask the nurse to talk to Jake. He can tell her how to handle the police. But we are running out of time. Thanks a million, Miss Janie."

"You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"You will be among the first to know."

Miss Janie left and I closed my eyes. Jake had to get here before the police started poking around.

The nurse came in shortly after Miss Janie had left. "I talked with Jake and you'll not be bothered by the officer outside."

"How am I doing?"

"You had a close call, but the wound was clean and damaged nothing serious. Once we got some blood in you, you started coming around. I'll send Miss Janie back in if you like."

"Please do."

Miss Janie came back into the room and took a seat by the bed. I closed my eyes and I guess dozed off because the next thing I knew, Jake and the Chief of Police came into the room. "You didn't have to get yourself wounded," Jake said. "But it is a good undercover trick."

"Yeah, good planning," I answered.

"Ok, we've got the troops ready. What do we do?"

"Do you have search warrants for the church and funeral home?"

"Sure do."

"I don't know where things are hidden, but I am positive I know how the whole system works. Seeing the truck being unloaded tonight should mean you are going to find all the evidence you need."

"The Cathedral of Tomorrow handles most of the transportation of the drugs. They purchase caskets directly from the manufacturer in Florida. That was the missing link. There are closer casket manufacturers, but Ebony goes to Florida. Ask yourself why. How many law enforcement officers are going to stop and search a truck loaded with caskets? Once they got the drugs here, they used a couple ways of shipping them to Atlanta, Savannah and Columbus. The choirs are a perfect cover. The luggage compartment on one side of the bus is loaded with drugs in suitcases identical to those provided to choir members. Should the bus be stopped and searched, the driver opens the side with luggage. If any of the suitcases are opened, they contain what is expected. If the second side is opened, who is going to open the suitcases identical to those just checked?"

"Atlanta could handle more drugs than Savannah or Columbus so more than the choir bus is often needed. That's the reason Ebony started sending bodies to Atlanta. An unmarked van took the bodies to an Atlanta embalming concern. A hearse followed with a shipping casket, but it was filled with drugs. Again, who's going to stop a hearse? After the body was embalmed, it was placed in the hearse and returned to Macon. It was a clever scheme. What really cinched it for me were those bargain basement prices for an uptown funeral."

"And Chattanooga?" the chief asked.

"An eighteen wheeler can transport an awful lot of dope. And there is a casket company there. Bet that's another place where caskets get purchased."

"Good job, Aaron, very good job. At this very moment the church and the funeral home are being searched. Sister Rose, Jason Stanley Story and Willie Brown, along with drivers of the buses and the tractor-trailer driver, have all been picked up and are in jail. Now all you have to do is just take care of yourself. We'll come back when the fun is over."

As soon as the two had gone, Miss Janie said, "I told you you didn't act like a convict. Now you want to tell Miss Janie what this is all about."

I told Miss Janie the whole story, but I didn't mention Andreas. I knew Miss Janie well enough to know she would not be sympathetic.

The chief came by Thursday and told me the superintendent was coming down Friday morning. That afternoon, the doctor told me I could go back to Atlanta Friday if I would get my wound checked out, "at Grady where they know about gunshot wounds," if I wanted to. They were not breaking the story until Friday since there was just too much evidence to be taken care of.

Friday morning the chief and superintendent came in the room. "Damn good job, Aaron," the superintendent said, "damn good job".

"Yeah, we are still discovering things. Late last night we got a blueprint of the Cathedral of Tomorrow and found a bunker-type room in the basement stacked full of cocaine. There was a safe in the room as well. Aaron, there was four million, that's f-o-u-r, four million, in bills in it. Too bad you aren't a private citizen. If you weren't working as a police officer, you'd stand to get 10% of the money and all other assets. A cool four hundred thousand for starters," the chief said with a smile.

"Whoa," the superintendent said. "All this was done by Aaron under an assumed name, but that was not the extent of the identity switch. We got worried and actually had Aaron declared dead. In order to give his ward money, I gave him money out of my discretionary fund, not from Aaron's salary or insurance. It's funny, but legally Aaron was functioning as a private citizen. He got no money from my department or yours. He worked for a living. I think you could save us all a lot of time and effort by just giving Aaron the reward."

"You are one clever devil, Superintendent. Lucky this is a small town and can work things out without a whole lot of red tape. I'll get a judge to rule on this as quickly as possible."

"Chief, I didn't expect anything except my salary, but I'll take whatever comes my way. If there is enough, Miss Janie's house is to be insulated, a new furnace and air conditioning installed."

"I'll see that is done," the chief said.

"Also, set up a fund to pay Simon to go back to school. He's to get a couple hundred a week, so long as he is in school and passing."

"I'll take care of that as well," the chief said.

"Then I am out of here!"

I had thought about calling Andreas, but that was more shock than he needed. The superintendent told me he had called Ralph about the wrap-up of the Macon drug business. "He said Jerry had the weekend off and he and Andreas were going to north Georgia. He thought they were planning on going camping."

I didn't know the best way to approach Andreas. I did know one thing: I loved him, no question about that, absolutely no question.

I was surprised how beat I was when we got back to Atlanta. The superintendent took me by Grady to get my wound checked out. It was doing fine, but I was given some more pain pills since I was in considerable pain.

Ralph was waiting for me at the apartment. He gave me a big hug, poured me a beer. I had to decide whether to have a beer or a pain pill. The beer won hands down. "I guess you need to be brought up to date since you have been gone six weeks"--remember the Macon business would take only a few weeks. He told me Jerry had been living with Andreas. "I was really glad he moved in. Andreas was talking suicide for a while. I thought Andreas was falling for Edward and worried about how he and you would handle that when you came back, but I was definitely off base. Edward has been a strong arm for him to lean on, but that's it." Ralph talked a while longer then, asked, "What are you going to do?".

"I don't know. I know what I'd like to do. I'd like to go straight to north Georgia and make mad, passionate love to that beautiful man."

"How about me calling Jerry--he gave me his cell phone number--and telling him to hold off going camping, and you go up and get resurrected at the Coghills? Think anything else would be too traumatic for the whole bunch."

"You do the calling, I'm on my way--that is if I have transportation." The Jeep was in my slot, and in minutes I had thrown things in a bag and was on my way to be united with my love.

I felt as if I was driving in cold molasses. I finally set my cruise control because without it, my speed crept up until I was speeding big time. I left Atlanta at 5:00 and walked into the Coghills at 7:30, really good time in light of my leaving at rush hour on Friday. When I walked in, the Coghills were all sitting on the deck. I learned later Ralph had called and said they needed to be together at 7:00-7:30 to share in an important event. They all had their backs to me except Edward, who was leaning against the banister of the deck. I put my finger to my lips as he started to speak. He didn't speak, but the smile on his face was a dead give-away something was up. I stood still and said softly, "Andreas Jackson, I love you, man, I love you".

Andreas stood slowly and then turned to face me. His mouth fell open and he turned pale and his knees started buckling. In two steps I had my arms around him. He had fainted. I eased him into a chair, put his head between his knees and started bathing his face with a cold cloth Edward brought me. Gradually Andreas came around. When he did, he said nothing. His hands started tracking my features. I took his hands into mine and kissed his palms. Finally he whispered, "Aaron, is this real? Are you really here? Alive? God, tell me I'm not dreaming again. Please, tell me you are real!"

I lifted Andreas to his feet and answered with a smile as I said, "Andreas, there is no-one in the world more real, more alive, than I am right now". My arms were around him as I raised my face to his and pressed my lips to his in a passionate kiss. Suddenly he was devouring me with kisses. He put his arms around me and hugged me tight. I couldn't help crying out in pain and, when I did, he released me, looked at my bandaged shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Aaron".

"Don't be, it means this is not a dream." Edward brought me a chair and I sat down and Andreas sat in my lap, his arms around me. He kept kissing me and I kept reassuring him that I was real.

He finally just sat on my lap and with that shy smile of his said, "Aaron, you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, I sure do."

"Jerry, why didn't you tell me Aaron was alive. You must have known."

"No, he didn't know, Andreas. Only Ralph and the Superintendent of Detectives in Atlanta and the Chief of Police in Macon knew."

Mrs. Coghill brought me a cup of coffee and asked if I had eaten. I told her I hadn't. "I wanted only one thing, that's to be where I am with who I'm with."

"You wanted to be with at least one of us," she laughed. "Your story can wait until you have eaten." When I finished the food, she brought me another cup of coffee and I told everyone the whole story. "I know it has been hard on everyone who cared anything about me but, in the end, I know that it was best. Had I ever been identified, I would be a dead man sure enough."

After a lot of questions, I was just about talked out. "That's it. I may be coming into money because technically I was a private citizen in Macon, then again I may not. If I don't, I guess I'll get back pay at least. But that's not important right now."

"Aaron, the tent is all set up and everything, ready for overnight camping. If you hurry, you can make it to the camp site while there is enough light. I think Edward and I will spend the night here and leave the camp to you and Andreas," Jerry said.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked Andreas.

Andreas hopped off my lap, grabbed my hand and we went down the stairs from the deck. We walked along the stream until it joined the trail to the cliffs above the river. I doubted we would reach the tent before it was pitch-black dark unless I could get Andreas under control as our progress was slowed as, again and again, he stopped us for a passionate kiss. After one passionate, tongue-in-the-mouth, kiss I said, "You keep that up and we'll never reach the camp site."

Andreas laughed, a laugh that made me catch my breath, and said, "I haven't noticed you resisting!" He gave me another quick kiss and, hand-in-hand, we walked up the increasingly steep trail, finally reaching the camp site.

The tent was set well back from the cliff edge. A fire had been laid in a fire pit in front of the tent, waiting to be started. Andreas put a match to the tinder and soon there was a small, glowing fire, its flames making our shadows dance around the camp.

Andreas took a sleeping bag from the tent, folded it and spread it by the fire and motioned for me to sit down. When I did, he straddled my legs, his butt on the sleeping bag, his legs around my waist.

"Andreas, I know I can never make up for the pain you suffered believing I was dead. I thought about that a long time before I took the assignment. I'll confess that if I had known what I now know about myself and my love for you, I don't think I could have done it. I guess I can say that in the time I was gone, I accomplished what I hoped to accomplish with my whole life. I have to think that way, believing I saved an awful lot of people from dying of drugs."

"But, right now, what is more important is the time I was away from you I learned something, accepted something. I'm still not sure whether I am gay or not... that's not true, I am very sure at least part of me, a major part, is gay. But that really doesn't matter. What really matters is that gay or straight, I love you more than life itself. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know if it doesn't hold you, us together, then I just as well should have stayed dead."

Andreas was silent for what seemed a very long time, his head resting on my shoulder. "Aaron, I told Ralph I had nothing to live for when I was told you were dead. I meant that. I don't think I would have done myself in, but I think I would have been a walking dead man. I think the only thing that kept me going was remembering that prom night kiss. I guess I saw in it a lot more than you ever admitted."

"Andreas, you felt like you were made to be held in my arms when we danced. Our kiss felt exactly right. I never doubted that."

"I have, recently, thought I needed to see someone because the longer you were away, the more I believed you weren't dead, the exact opposite of what I thought I should be thinking. One Sunday afternoon I was sitting on the balcony, half asleep, when as clear as anything, I heard your voice say, "Andreas, I never told you I loved you, so I am telling you now."

"Andreas Jackson, I love you with every breath I take. I am breathing because of you. I didn't tell anyone because they would come up with why it wasn't real, but I knew it was real."

"Then, two nights ago, I knew you were in trouble. I was panicking. Jerry didn't know what to do. I mean he would wake me up when I had a nightmare, but I was wide awake and panicking. Finally I went out on the balcony and tried to give you my strength, then suddenly I knew everything was ok with you."

"Andreas, I knew I was dying from loss of blood and I really needed help then, suddenly, I had the willpower to go on, blindly and finally unconsciously. There is no question in my mind you saved my life."

Andreas laughed, kissed me and said, "Old African custom, Aaron, I saved your life now you belong to me!"

"Yassa, sir Massa, what you want this black boy to do?"

"You don't be no black boy, yo' my man!" Andreas laughed and leaned forward to kiss me. Playfully, I started leaning away from him. I finally fell over backwards, Andreas was immediately on top of me. "I got you where I want you," he said, "You are under my power!".

"Well, at least I am under you."

"Now I'm going to have my way with you!" Andreas started kissing me, long, deep, hard. Then he started grinding his hips into mine, pressing our hard cocks between us. I reached up and slipped his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned my shirt and, when my chest was exposed, suddenly stopped playing. He was staring at the bandage on my shoulder. Huge tears formed in his eyes and then he started crying in earnest, crying in great body-shaking sobs.

I was confused. "Andreas, Babe, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer he was crying so hard, his face buried in my chest, his hands clutching my shirt. I didn't know what to do other than what I was doing, holding Andreas tight and saying over and over, "Andreas, it's all right, everything's all right. It's all right, babe."

It seemed hours before Andreas regained control of himself, but I suspect it was just a few minutes. When he did, he started kissing me madly, wildly, my mouth, my eyes, my neck, my chest. When he kissed a nipple I felt as though an electric charge shot through my body.

Andreas eventually calmed down enough for me to ask again, "Andreas, Babe, what's wrong?".

"Aaron, so many, many times I have dreamed you were alive, holding me in your arms, that I was kinda holding my breath, hoping the dream would last. Then, when I saw your shoulder, I finally, completely, really knew you were alive and here and real and... and..." Andreas was talking so fast he finally just ran out of words. "Aaron, Aaron, you are real and alive and I'm with you and you said you loved me and you kissed me and... and..." He again ran out of words and I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

I was laughing at my Andreas, MY Andreas, because I was so happy: I loved him and he loved me and, yes, because I was alive and here and real.

Andreas was all out of breath and just lay his head on my chest, his arms beside me. "I know you are alive and real, Aaron, because I hear your heart."

"So you hear it calling your name?" I asked, "Because it is, it is calling the name of the man I love."

"It's saying Aa-ron An-dreas over and over."

He lay still, listening to my heart call our names and then raised his head, smiled his double-dimple smile and raised up and kissed my chin. "I think I started a job I didn't finish," he said as he rolled off my body and said, "Raise up". I did, and he removed my shirt, put his arms around me and kissed me on the mouth, then my eyes, my neck and, again, a nipple.

"You know, you know more about what comes next..."

"We both do!" Andreas giggled. "We both do!"

I was glad the fire had burned low, otherwise Andreas would have seen me blush. At least I thought I was safe until he laughed, "Aaron Johnson, you big bad policeman! You're blushing!"

From the way my face felt, I suspect he could have seen me blush in the pitch-black dark. I was finally able to say, "You're the one with all the magazines, so I guess you're the expert".

"You're the one with experience," he laughed and started tickling my ribs.

"Well, Mr. Know-it-all, in the first place she didn't turn me on the way you do and, in case you hadn't seen those OTHER magazines, she was put together differently."

"Hey, and Vive la diference, right?"

"RIGHT!"

"I happen to know you saw me naked as a jaybird the first time we were here."

"I didn't!"

"Oh, yes you did! You gotta know bedrooms are like eighteen wheelers, 'If you can see my mirrors, I can see you!' I saw you sneaking a peek. Why did you think it took me so long to crawl into a pair of boxers? It took just long enough to show you what you had won--and to get you good and hard!"

"You don't play fair, Andreas."

"ALL'S fair in love and war, and this is both--I love you and I'm going to fight to get your clothes off!"

"No need, I surrender."

Andreas reached out for my left hand, but I pulled it back and offered my right one. He pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me, taking care not to hurt the shoulder. While his lips, mouth and tongue kept me occupied, his hands worked on my jeans and soon they slid down my legs. As I stepped out of them, his thumbs in the waistband of my briefs released my hard, precum-streaming cock.

I wasn't quite as smooth in undressing my chocolate man. My left hand and arm were hampered by a bullet wound, but that was ok. That wound convinced Andreas I was alive and real and reminded me that, somehow or other, he was responsible for that, for my not taking advantage of my "pre-need plan" at Ebony Funeral Home.

Andreas placed his hands on my shoulders--it was one of those times when it was easy to see why he was a basketball star as he stood four inches above my six-foot body, touching me with long beautiful fingers, hands and fingers which made mine look tiny. We stood, drinking in each other's body, both at full attention, ready for action. As I looked into his face, the moonlight caught the scar on his left cheek. It was not pretty, not sexy, it was a sign of what it had cost him to come to this moment. I owed him for that and for the pain he had suffered while I was gone. "But," I thought, "you have a lifetime to repay him."

Andreas kissed me, softly, gently, picked me up and laid me on the sleeping bag by the fire. We were both amateurs, but we did make love and it was perfect. After we were exhausted by it, we lay, facing each other, arms resting on our lover. "We are definitely amateurs at this," I smiled at Andreas.

"Yeah, but it ain't basketball, Bro. In this game, it's the practice I'm going to enjoy."

North Georgia nights can get pretty cool, even in the summer. I woke up in the night, cold. Andreas must have been as well, as he was as close to me as possible. I looked at him in the dim light of the moon and wondered what I had done in some other life to have this man love me. I kissed his cheek softly and covered the two of us.

The sunrise was spectacular, almost as spectacular as the feeling I had when Andreas and I greeted it by making love.

"Aaron, it's beautiful," Andreas said. "And it's special because it is our--ours together--first sunrise, a new day, a new life." I could only agree.

*MARTA==Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority (I think). It is Atlanta's rapid rail part of the public transit system.

**"Deliverance": novel by James Dickey set in north Georgia mountains. The major characters are city boys, most of whom suffer at the hands of north Georgia rednecks, including a homosexual rape. All of the characters except one die during the weekend outing. Made into a movie with Burt Reynolds. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> A note will be appreciated: sequoyah@charter.net