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"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
R.S.V.
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
with literary enhancement by
Les Martin
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BOOK THREE
"BRIARWOOD LOST"
Chapter Twenty-Six
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"If to men, not to God,
we now must pray,
tell me, who are these men?
All that matters is that
the time is late,
that I'm afraid and
I need your help."
Gian-Carlo Menotti
from "The Consul"
Act II Scene 2 (1950)
copyright, G. Schirmer
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Cliff's hands trembled as he smoothed out the folds in the stationary of the two page letter. He wanted to read it slow and scrutinize each word for a hidden meaning, in case Roger had been the victim of foul-play.
My dearest Cliff,
I love you.
I love you but I had to leave. I know
that would seem like a dichotomy, but I'll
try to explain as best I can.
When I was first informed of my sudden
inheritance, all I could think was, "Now I'm
free to spend 24 hours a day with Cliff--if
he'll have me."
Seeing you again, face to face, and
seeing the depth of feeling in your eyes, I
knew immediately that nothing had changed,
that our mutual love still burned hot and
bright.
As our little household grew from two
to six, I was presented again and again with
the evidence that your very life impacted
favorably on the lives of all around you---
your compassion, your empathy, your very soul
fitted you admirably for your vocation. You
served a definite purpose in life.
Each new member of our burgeoning
family made me realize ever more strongly that,
except for my love for you and my money, albeit
given freely in both cases, I served no purpose.
Night after night, I watched you sleep,
exhausted but blessed---you have devoted
another day to mankind and you had made a
difference.
I, on the other hand, recognized in myself a
growing resentment of your church for taking
you away from me for a whole day.
I don't know if you ever met my Grand-
mother Cole. She loved gardening and had
an enormous flower garden of all varieties...
annuals, perennials, so that she could have
blossoms of some type all day long. One day
she called my attention to her tall hibiscus
plants. They were taller than my head.
The next day and the one thereafter, she
kept showing me the progress of the buds
before they bloomed out into a spectacle of
red, purple, yellow and pink. It took weeks
sometimes for the bud to open finally. And
after all the work it did to display a
blossom, it only bloomed for one day. The
next day, the blossom had died and had been
replaced by a neighboring blossom. All
that effort for such a short time to be
enjoyed or remembered. I remember what
my grandmother said every time she noticed
a new blossom. She'd look at it and say.
"So today's your day? Well, make the most
of it while you're here." Of course the
next day, the flower was gone.
I don't have to explain the analogy
between the hibiscus blossom and our lives.
I kept wondering when you or someone would
look at me and say, "So today's your day?",
but it never happened. I just want to be
ready when my day DOES come and I want you
to be there with me. It seems your day
comes every day from the vast number in
your congregation that you befriend, com-
fort, guide, and even belittle when neces-
sary. I'm not afforded that privilege.
That's why I'm taking a leave of absence
from my life. I don't know where I'm
going, what I will find, or how long I will
stay. I hope that, at the end of my quest, I'll
have found some deity to believe in, whether
it be Buddha, Mohammed, or a golden calf.
A man shouldn't die without believing in
something and that's what's missing in my
life.
By now you will have been contacted by my
new lawyer, Walter Clayton. I told him
to give the five of you anything you want-
ed or needed...the sky is the limit!
All my love that I have to give, you al-
ready have. I just hope you won't suf-
fer from anxiety with concern about my
safety or health. I will be careful and I'll
think of you with every breath I take.
I know, if and when I am through with this
venture, whether I be successful or not
in finding what I'm searching for. that you'll
be waiting for me with your wonderful
warm arms that you offer only to me.
With all my love,
Roger
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Cliff tried to put his thoughts into ten words of how did he feel, having just read Roger's explanation. They were: relief... puzzlement... anger...grief... embarrassment... emptiness... betrayal... despair... hope...and courage. Probably, it was a combination of all ten, plus a few more.
In his lifetime, Cliff had had doubts about the deity, and about the church. He believed everyone has questions when he reads the Old Testament and accepting it at face value. There are too many tales that sound like just what they are...'tales'! For example, how did Noah manage to get two of EVERYTHING inside his boat? There are so many animals not conducive to his region or surroundings. How did he assemble two of every species? Were there penguins or polar bears, black mambas or duck-billed platypuses, inhabiting the Sinai region? The Old Testament stories were Hebrew lore or fireside tales handed down by word-of-mouth for centuries with NO written documentation. Each tale was enhanced or embellished on in turn by each teller. The Hubble Space Telescope showed astronomers galaxies beyond galaxies and proved there were unknown universes which could only be reached with 'time travel', but was everyone supposed to believe that Elisha ascended into heaven inside a whirlwind as Dorothy did going to Oz? Roger failed to find out what he believed because he had chosen NOT to believe. Roger had lost his faith, and without it, one cannot believe, especially when visible proof was required but impossible to produce.
Cliff reread Roger's words in search of a clue or secret message he might have missed. But alas, he only came to one conclusion. Knowing Roger's deep seated determination, Cliff knew he would never see him again until Roger had found 'his' God or a reasonable facsimile. He wanted to be sure that his family of Briarwood Boys got the same meaning he had received, so Cliff chose to read the letter to them aloud, rather than taking a chance one of them might make a misinterpretation. When he concluded the reading, Cliff tried not to show emotion by letting his voice break. Kyle and Ryan had chosen to stay with Jay. He looked at each of the six faces and they appeared to be stunned by the news, even though Ryan and Kyle had never met Roger but only knew of him.
Cliff's first reaction was to assume the role of the bereaved widow; maybe he should take up needlepoint as did the wife of Odysseus while he was away on his quest. But he remembered his calling...a job with many tasks...the reason he had become a priest. He had to face and conquer any adversity such as grief, including his own. He would NOT fail. He would continue to be headmaster of the manse and oversee his 'adopted' wards' needs while continuing to minister to his flock at the church. When the time was right, Roger would return, but more importantly, he would return to Cliff...and Cliff would be ready to receive him as asked...with open arms.
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The next day, Cliff called Walter Clayton as he had promised, making an appointment at 9:00AM to discuss Roger's financial plans. Roger was so meticulous in his decisions, Cliff had no doubt that Rog had chosen just the perfect lawyer to handle his affairs. Little did Cliff know just how small the world was when, only the day before, Jay had met with one of Walter's wards and found that they had so much in common, including having had the same former lover, Lonnie.
They were to meet at Walter's office. Cliff didn't realize the lawyer was so young (not even forty-years-old) and so strikingly handsome. For a split second, Cliff felt a tinge of jealousy as he wondered how well had Roger and Walter known one another, how they'd met, and under what circumstances? Being not only a priest, but a gay priest, Cliff had a built-in gaydar because, as soon as he shook Walter's hand and feeling the way their eyes locked into a gaze, each knew the other played for the same team.
"Father Cliff, please come in!" Walter began.
"Just, `Cliff', will be fine." Cliff replied.
"I understand that two members of our families have a great deal in common, my Kyle and your Jay."
"Makes you think we're all a part of some big plan, doesn't it?"
"You mean like divine intervention?"
"Or voodoo, whichever you choose to believe in."
"I'm afraid I'm too skeptical to believe in mysticism." Walter said.
"Then you believe in God?" Cliff asked.
"I do, but I don't know what they would call me in your denomination. In some circles, I'm what they'd call a back-slider. I haven't been to church since my wife died."
"But you have two sons, I understand."
"Yes--Alex, who will be eighteen next month, and graduates from high school, and a little tyrant, Jeff, who is sixteen. I'm afraid I've been a negligent parent when it comes to their spiritual upbringing. By the way, I believe you have met Jeff."
"Really?"
"Yes, he attended one of your services a few Sundays ago. In case you weren't aware, you made quite an impression on him. He's talked about you off and on ever since."
"I'm very flattered. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet him personally."
"Oh, but you did! Apparently in his eyes, you became like a celebrity and according to him, he stayed behind to talk with you at the door when your service was over. He came to your church with his best friend, Earl Freeman and his family."
"The young man with Ellen Freeman?"
"He's the one!"
"Then I'm obliged to say Jeff made an impression on me as well. Please tell him that."
"I certainly will," Walter laughed. "It hasn't been often that someone in the religious profession has piqued Jeff's interest."
"With your permission of course, I hope to see him again at St. Genesius. I trust you'll forgive my impertinence, but I'd like to invite you and your sons, including Kyle and Ryan, to come and partake of our services if you'd like."
"I would like that. Who knows? Maybe I'll find what I've lost in my faith."
"As opposed to taking off somewhere around the world as Roger did?".
"I'm sorry," Walter said. "I didn't mean to sound crass, but it's like the old saying, 'Sometimes what you look for is no farther that what's right in front of you."
"Apparently it wasn't what Roger was looking for...Do you have any idea where is he is, Walter?"
"I wish I could ease your mind, Cliff, but I have no idea where he is. We met one day, a couple of weeks ago, and Roger discussed all his financial arrangements. He told me about you, Jay, Troy. Rob, and Timothy. Forgive my being impertinent, but it was obvious to me that he loves you more than life itself. He'd die for you or for any of the boys living with you."
"You know then that, indiscreetly, our family respects a gay lifestyle?"
"Yes...if this is confession time, I hope it makes you feel better if I say, so does my family."
"Pardon?"
"My two real sons and my three "adopted" sons are all gay."
"And may I go so far as to ask about you yourself?"
"You may. I was gay before I met my wife and all throughout our marriage, my best friend and I maintained a nonsexual gay relationship. His son, Ted, and my son, Alex, live together in a relationship."
"How fortunate for both of them to have understanding parents."
"Since I'm being so candid with you. I vowed that if ever I had a gay son or daughter, I would see that he or she was able to enjoy his life to the fullest without my interference. My best friend and I were never afforded that privilege."
"It seems you and I have something else in common, which prompts me to ask if it's possible for our two families to have dinner some evening, or perhaps an outdoor swimming party buffet?"
"I think that's a wonderful idea. Last evening I had a long talk with Kyle and he related to me that all broken fences which might have existed between him and your Jay have been mended. I'm sure Jeff would get excited getting to talk with you and getting to know you better. An outing might be nice for all my boys. Do you have a large swimming pool?"
"Are you familiar with the former Marsden Estate?"
"Of course. Roger mentioned something about buying a large house. I'm just beginning to join all these puzzle pieces together. I'm afraid I've only seen your house from the outside, looking in," Walter replied.
"Then I'd like to invite you all to come over some Saturday, but I'm afraid I'm tied up in the confessional booth all afternoon. However, if you would come to the eleven o'clock mass on Sunday, after church we could have a pool party, followed by a barbecue or something that the guys would like."
"Ah ha! Do I detect a madness in your method?...A plot to trick me into coming to church with the promise of a soirée after the service?" Walter's voice had a smile in it.
"No, it's not a package deal. If you don't want to come for the mass, you could bring your family over afterwards...say...around two in the afternoon?"
"Oh, no! I want the full treatment if I come. It might be good to expose my brood to a little spirituality, especially Jeff with his iconic attraction to you.."
"I would love to see Jeff again.. I have two young acolytes assisting me with the services who are just a bit younger than Jeff. They are going through the pangs of puberty and, who knows, they and Jeff might learn something from each other."
"Good God, I shudder to think what would happen if Jeff ever became religious enough to become an acolyte!"
"We're taught that the Lord moves in mysterious ways. Wouldn't it be amazing if Jeff liked church and one day became a minister or a priest?"
"I'm afraid if Jeff ever became a minister of any kind, a entire new religion would have to be started." Walter said, laughing.
"Is it too short a notice to invite you all this Sunday?"
"I don't think so...as a matter of fact, I think it would do us all good to be exposed to religion. When has going to church ever hurt anybody?"
"Then we'll be expecting you this Sunday. I'll call Jay. I know he'd love to plan a party."
"Does Jeff have a boyfriend he would enjoying bringing?"
"It depends on the day of the week. Jeff has a friend who is his boyfriend one day and his best buddy, the next. You know him--Earl Freeman?"
"By all means, please have Jeff invite Earl. Only I hope Earl doesn't see anything out of the ordinary and go home and tell his mother, Ellen."
"I have a sneaky suspicion that there are quite a few things Ellen doesn't know about Earl...especially when he and Jeff spend the night together every weekend."
"In that case, I'll invite Tony and Jason, the two kids at church, and they can keep Jeff and Earl entertained while the adults have their drinks or whatever."
"This open lifestyle is not condemned by your church?"
"No, Walter...'Live and let live, as long as it's legal', is our credo."
"You know, Cliff, we've made all these plans and still haven't discussed what you came here for...Roger's financial arrangements."
"We still have time...that is, if you do?"
"Sure. I can take all day, if necessary."
"So can I."
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Cliff left Walter's office around noon and went back to his office at the church. He called Jay and 'made' Jay's day by telling him about the arranged shindig. True to form, every time something good happened in Cliff's life, it seemed always to be accompanied by bad news. Amidst Cliff's morning mail was a letter of resignation from Jonathan Tidball, the church organist and choirmaster. Cliff was annoyed--and pleased at the same time. This could be the start of refurbishing the choir loft with voices that would praise the Almighty, while not giving Cliff a sour stomach for Sunday's lunch.
Many things which Cliff had shared with Roger was their taste and their choice in music. Both were big fans of Broadway singer Barbara Cook. Cliff remembered Roger reading a review, written by Rex Reed, concerning Barbara's Carnegie Hall concert and subsequent recording. Rex had praised Barbara's singing, saying, 'When we get to heaven and if all the angelic choir doesn't sing as well as Barbara, then God's going to have a lot of explaining to do'.
"Oh." Cliff prayed, "if I could just fill my church choir with one or a lot of Barbara Cook's and Jerry Hadley's, I could guarantee myself a front row seat in heaven!"
Cliff decided he would ask Rob or Timmy if they knew anyone to replace Jonathan without having to advertise and audition for the position.
It just so happened that Rob had a friend in New York named Wayne who might be interested in coming to live in Briarwood and building a choir from the ground up. The job had to be lucrative enough to entice him. Of course, Cliff could throw in a few fringe benefits if only Wayne could succeed where Jonathan had failed. If necessary, Cliff would call Walter and ask if he would pay for a choir using Roger's money...just to get 'that sound' that Cliff and Roger always longed for.
Maybe Jonathan's resignation was actually a blessing in disguise!
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" BOOK THREE--"Briarwood Lost"-chapter-twenty-seven)