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"BRIARWOOD"
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK THREE
"BRIARWOOD LOST"
Chapter Thirty
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"'You've come home', he will say.
'You've come home though you've been away.'
And you wait with your heart wildly beating,
While you just keep repeating...
'You've come home...'"
Carolyn Leigh
"Wildcat"
copyright 1961
"Trans World Airlines Flight 564, arriving from San Francisco is now deplaning at gate four. Persons waiting to meet passengers, please remain in your designated areas," the loud speaker blasted over the concourse. Cliff's heart pounded with excitement. It had only been a few short weeks or months, but it seemed like years since Cliff had seen Roger or held him in his arms. The other half of Cliff that was missing would soon united with the one that had awaited for a phone call, a letter, a telegram, an e-mail...but there had been nothing until the package arrived from Federal Express followed by the long-distance call from Tibet. Cliff made a vow to God and also to Roger, even without Roger's knowledge, not to ask any questions. Cliff trusted him and he would tell Cliff exactly what he wanted him to hear. Cliff would ask for nothing more.
With the new airline security, Cliff could no longer go through the gate to meet him. Roger would have to meet him, once he had picked up his luggage. The thirty minute wait seemed interminable. Finally, a bunch of the arrived passengers began to appear through a swinging door. Cliff looked intensely for Roger, but there was no one in the group that Cliff recognized. Had he written down the wrong flight number or gotten the time wrong? His heart sank at the idea that Roger had missed the plane and was to arrive at another time. Jay and Troy had accompanied Cliff to the airport. Cliff turned to see if they had seen Roger and they saw the disappointment in Cliff's face as he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Then, Cliff felt a tap on his shoulder. Cliff turned and saw him and it became apparent why Cliff didn't recognize him. Roger had shaved his head. It was tanned with a bronze tone, but there was no mistaking those gorgeous green eyes of his below his beautifully shaped dark brown eyebrows. Cliff rushed in Roger's arms and Roger embraced him, dropping his one suitcase. Cliff hadn't worn his priest's collar and didn't give a damn who saw him kiss Roger on the lips as neither had any shame. Why should they? They belonged together, now and always.
"God, I've waited for this. I've dreamed of holding you with every breath I've taken while you've been gone." Cliff whispered in Roger's right ear.
"Hold me," Roger said, "just hold me and never let me go. I never want to spend another night away from you as long as I live."
"I'll hold you to your words," Cliff said, kissing him again.
Jay and Troy were standing about ten feet behind Cliff, watching as best they could through the tears streaming down their faces.
Roger saw them and let go of Cliff long enough to gently say to them, "Hi, guys."
"Hi...'Dad'", Jay said. "Welcome home."
Roger left Cliff to embrace Jay and Troy together, as one. They said nothing as they stood there, the three of them, holding each other in a huddle. It was Jay who brought us back down to earth by saying, "I know you've missed us...You've lost all of your hair, worrying." With that remark, all four of them laughed out loud.
"Oh, that." Roger said, rubbing his bald head, "I didn't think you would notice."
"I wouldn't have, if the light reflecting from the ceiling on top of your head hadn't blinded me. I guess I should say, 'it looks cool'...it is, isn't it?" Jay joked.
"Where I just came from, I was in style." Roger said to him.
"Oh, thank the Lord, I thought you had become one of those hari-krishna begging for money at the airport."
"I may have to do that, once I've seen my bank statement. Do you know if Cliff's cleaned me out?" Roger kidded.
"I think we have just enough left to pay the rent, but I'll have to scrimp on the utilities this month." Cliff chided.
"Where's Rob and Timmy?" Roger asked.
"They stayed home. They may be leaving us in a few days to move to New York and they didn't want to tell you here. They wanted to wait until you got to the house so they could discuss it with you."
"Oh?"
"Don't worry, I've already given them my and your approval. We'll talk about it later. The main thing is to get you home. I want to see if you're tanned all over...or if you have a tan line...and if not, why were you running around naked...and with whom?"
"Jeez, so many questions to answer."
"I don't care if you've got purple tattoos around your nipples, I just want to hold you naked."
"Why, Father Cliff, do I detect that you're horny?" he asked.
"Of course not," Cliff said, pretending to be miffed, "I'm just tired of bringing home tricks from the confessional booth."
"Oooh, they're bad, I hear...and sinners to boot."
"I only chose the ones I couldn't absolve. They were going to hell and I thought without you, I might as well go with them."
"Will you two please shut up and let's get the car and go home?" Jay said, impatiently, "I'll bet Rob or Timmy haven't checked the stove or the oven once, and everything I prepared for Roger's homecoming is probably ruined or burnt to a crisp right now."
"What are we having?" Roger asked Jay.
"Peanut butter and broccoli sandwiches, what else?"
"Thank God for the Jays of this world. They remain constant and give us a feeling of solidarity that in spite of change, we must live to see another day." He gave Jay and Cliff a big hug. Then he turned to Troy and looked into his eyes. "What's the matter, Troy, you haven't said a word since I arrived."
"I didn't want to say anything. I stood back and observed the three of you. I was speechless and happy to think I was a part of this family. I'm so glad we're back together again." Troy said.
"And we're gonna stay a family, from now on." Roger replied, smiling at Troy. "Remember what our favorite lyricist, Sondheim, wrote?" Roger locked his arm in Cliff's, as Jay and Troy joined us when Roger began singing, "Through thick and through thin, all out or all in, and whether it's win, place, or show...with you for me and me for you, we'll muddle through whatever we do...Together...wherever...we go!"
Roger was back and Cliff had him.
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Two weeks passed. Roger was all settled, being home. By now, he had sprouted almost one-sixteenth of an inch of his brown hair. Apparently, Roger had missed Cliff as much as Cliff missed him by the bedroom action. Their sex was better and more meaningful than ever before. Jay planned a big party for the immediate family to toast Timmy and Rob off to the big lights of Broadway to find fame, fortune, and frustration. Jay had included Walter, Alex, Jeff, Ted, Ryan, and Kyle. This gave Roger a chance to get better acquainted with Walter and his 'sons' (all five of them), since he had only talked with Walter before he left, giving him instructions for his will and the funds he setup for Jay, Troy, and Cliff. The house was filled with male pulchritude and testosterone, each different but handsome and talented in his own way.
It was only August, but Jay wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving complete with stuffed turkey, pheasant, and a whole pig. Each who attended had so much to be thankful for. Except for Walter, the rest of them had a mate...someone to love, to say good night to, to live out the rest of his life with. Walter was content having his sons close to him, since Bruce no longer bothered to call him. Cliff only wished that the rest of the world could be as happy as all of them. Outside their little kingdom lived many, who would disapprove of their lifestyle, but if outsiders had time to condemn them, then the outsiders weren't that happy to begin with. Gay people often allow others to dictate what gay happiness should be. While the critics are being miserable, gays let the narrow-minded opinions rub off on them and make their lives miserable, too. Lately, every thought Cliff conceived was subject matter for a sermon or a lesson. Cliff had read the book that Roger had sent him three or four times and found himself in total agreement with the Dalai Lama. Ordinary people DO spend their entire lives searching for happiness. It's just that most of them are not aware of it when they find it. People always think back on the 'good times' when they were happier, such as high school or college days, an old job, a friend's companionship, but why weren't they conscious of it at the time? Cliff had no answer except to say he knew HE was happy now and that's all he needed. Cliff thought, 'A year from now, if I'm happier, then that's even better, but if a year passes and some unforeseen event deprives me of future happiness, then I will not have wasted a moment of it right now'.
During the past week, Roger had met with architects, real estate brokers, financiers, and had called a press conference for the following Tuesday to announce his joint ventures...a dynamic new AIDS hospital with the newest treatments and best qualified physicians and scientists available...plus a treatment and crisis center for troubled youths that needed a place to belong and be 'accepted'. "Accepted"...There was that word, again! The latter would be for young people with drug, alcohol, or substance abuse related problems as well as for teens who needed someone to 'accept' being different...race, gender, or sexual preference.
Walter agreed to handle all the legal matters. His commission alone would rank him higher in the seven digit bracket for the first time in his life. His 'Clayton Clan', like Roger and Cliff's 'Briarwood Boys' would never have to want for anything again. Kyle was looking as healthy as Jay since he started going to Jay's doctor and receiving the same treatment. There was practically no trace of AIDS or the HIV virus in his system. This made Ryan feel relieved, knowing he would have Kyle for a long time, as the had fallen deeply in love.
Alex was going to divide his time between going to college to get his Medical Administration degree and overseeing the building of the crisis center. Ted said he would help him as much as he could, although Ted's chief interest was sports. He wanted to be a newspaper and television sport journalist such as the late Chris Schenkel. He only knew of Chris and how great he had been. He had a large stack of Chris' old tapes which he revered and admired, Kyle and Ryan would channel their time toward ministering to new HIV patients in the center and the more advanced cases in the hospital, once the buildings were completed and everything was operating.
The St. Genesius' congregation was growing so rapidly, Roger had consulted with the church vestry about enlarging the sanctuary twice or three times the size. No one had noticed except Cliff and his 'family' how many men, both old and young, had become new parishioners. Somehow, word had spread that one could attend church and worship...and be 'accepted' for what they were and believed. Cliff faked naiveté on how the new male population had learned of it. Instead, he thanked God for whatever reason had brought them to a place where they, mostly gay men, felt they belonged...where someone cared about them...and they felt useful and unashamed helping others. Jeff spent every spare moment with Cliff learning the doctrines of the church, Jeff maintained his friendship with Jason and Tony, assisting them with the acolyte duties at every service. Jeff had 'accepted' his being gay and spent the night with his best buddy, Earl, whenever he got an 'urge' underneath his cassock.
Jeff's confirmation in front of his dad, brothers and the attending Briarwood Boys was a mere formality as only a Bishop can confirm a candidate for membership into the church. Bishop Vander Horst was unable to attend the family ceremony, but the following Tuesday at Morning Prayer and Communion, the Bishop came to St. Genesius, met with Jeff and Cliff briefly, and then as a special favor to the both of them 'legalized', so to speak, Jeff's confirmation during the mass.
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The confessions which Cliff usually heard on Saturday afternoons had now stretched over to Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons, especially after work hours. He was physically and emotionally drained as he never heard such an abundance of sins...but he knew that each confessor was sincere and had something he had to 'get off his chest' so that he would feel better and find peace. It was in the confession booth that Cliff had acquired most members of his 'family'...and look how well they had turned out. So Cliff got a larger cushion to sit on so that he could listen and listen hour after hour, day after day, without having to explain to Roger where he had gotten an unexpected case of hemorrhoids.
Wayne had done wonders with the choir and the church music. The St. Genesius choir soon had recorded its third CD. The choir was a hit! While Roger was away, Cliff hired a new personal secretary, Ben Townsend, a lonely stray 'misfit' who had never found 'acceptance' in his life. He was gay, but had never had a sexual experience of any kind. He felt his lack of good looks hindered him from pursuing a relationship, or even a one-night stand, for that matter. Cliff asked Jay to come to his office at the church and take Ben to do a complete 'makeover' on him as Rosie O'Donnell did on her show every Monday. Jay loved doing things like this...he loved transformations and mostly transformations with a happy ending. The next day at work, Ben arrived around 8:30 AM with a new hair style, new wardrobe, and new outlook on life. His confidence in himself had doubled or tripled. Now if Ben could just find 'that guy'! 'That guy' was not very far away. Cliff was having the light replaced on the 'marquee', as Cliff called it. in front of the church. A dashing handsome man of 24, wearing light blue coveralls, was sent over to clean the fixture and install new light bulbs. His name was Jeremy Withers. He had had a strict religious upbringing in one of Briarwood's fundamentalist churches. Pastor Brindley's to be exact. Perhaps Jeremy had been gay all his life but was afraid to confront his sexuality or chose to ignore it to please his parents, but he struck up a friendship with Ben the moment they met, while Ben showed him the church's sign. Four hours later, his truck was still parked in the back parking lot. Cliff assumed he was like a lot of other workers who liked to take their time when working by the hour.
Cliff left his office to go to the front lawn to see what was taking Jeremy so long to complete a job which should have taken only fifteen minutes. Jeremy was nowhere to be found...neither was Ben. Cliff had seen that Ben looked new and different from the day before, but Cliff wouldn't let himself believe Ben had dropped his inhibitions enough to make a play for the light repairman. At the time, Cliff knew nothing of Jeremy's past or life. If he had, Cliff certainly wouldn't have believed that Jeremy and Ben were having a clandestine roll-in-the-apse somewhere in the building, until Cliff heard a rustling noise in the belfry. Pigeons? Bats? People? Cliff's curiosity got the best of him and he started to climb the wooden stairs just like James Stewart in "Vertigo". Cliff reached the top step and heard voices on the other side of the door of the room that housed the carillon, Cliff recognized Ben's voice, but he didn't know the other one. If Ben and 'friend' were engaged in some kind of extracurricular activity, Cliff didn't want to embarrass them by his presence, so he quietly peeked through the crack of the door and saw the two of them, both naked, locked in a conjugal embrace and going at each other's bodies like cannibals. Cliff smiled and looked to heaven and said, 'Thank you' and quietly left as he had entered.
A short time later, Ben came back to the office. His face was flushed. He had had his first experience with a man and he had difficulty returning to normalcy. When he saw Cliff, Ben's eyes avoided him and Cliff didn't know if Ben's encounter had left him happy, sorrowful, or with a lot of guilt and regret.
"Anything wrong?" Cliff asked, coyly.
"No, I feel a little faint. It must be my hypoglycemia. I haven't had lunch yet." Ben replied.
"Oh?" Cliff said, playfully, "You were gone so long I thought perhaps you'd gone to lunch with that young man, the one that came to replace the lights. Did you catch his name?"
"I...uh...think it was Jeremy or Jerry...something like that. I didn't pay that much attention to him. He was so rugged and manly...you know, not my type at all."
"He wasn't rude to you, was he? If he was, I'll call his company and report him. You didn't happen to notice his last name, did you, he was wearing a nameplate over his breast pocket."
"I didn't notice. As I said, he really didn't interest me that much." Ben was so nervous, he started typing without putting paper in the typewriter. Cliff decided to take a risk and confront him.
"Ben Townsend! Would you dare lie to your priest in the house of God?"
"Heavens, no!" he replied.
"Then I think you better call the exterminator and tell him we have bats in our belfry."
"Oh, my Lord! You heard us? Father, don't tell me you saw us...please."
"You want me to lie, too. You think one lie deserves another?" Cliff asked, still playing with him, but not letting Ben know he was really joking.
"I'm sorry, Father Cliff. Do you think I ought to make my confession to you now?"
"No, Ben, I was kidding you. Maybe I took my joke too far, but I want you to relax and feel free around me. I'm glad you had an experience with him. I only pray that you enjoyed it and that the encounter ended on a happy note."
"It did, Father, it did." Ben said, excited now. "It was wonderful. All the thoughts and emotions I've had running through my brain for years, all of a sudden came true. The things that were happening were really real...and it was everything I ever hoped it would be like."
"I'm glad, Ben. Believe me when I say I'm glad for you...and the young man...Jerry? Did he have a good time with you?"
"His name is Jeremy, Father, Jeremy Withers and he was just as surprised as I when things just started clicking between us. Would you believe it was his first time, too?
"I believe it, if you say so."
"It was. He's virile and good-looking and he didn't care how I looked. Looks didn't matter between us. Just eye contact, touching and feeling. That's what gave us the courage to do the things we did. He'd been running away from his homosexuality all his life, the same as I. The moment that we kissed, he began to cry. This took me by surprise because I didn't know why a he-man, such as he, would have tears in his eyes, just as I did."
"Then, am I assuming too much that you're going to see each other again?"
"Friday night...we're going to dinner and to the movies. And then, next Sunday, he wants to attend the 11:00 AM service, here at St. Genesius'."
"Good Lord, Ben, when you meet a convert, you convert him completely!"
"Well, it's a start."
"Rephrase that, Ben. It's not a start, it's a beginning."
"Yeah, I like that...a beginning." Ben smiled.
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Neither Rob nor Timmy knew which emotion was controlling their psyches more: excitement or fear. It would have been sounder and safer if only one of them took the big plunge into show business, but the two of them leaping into the depths of career insecurity at the same time would be insane for most couples. But most couples didn't have a Father Cliff to encourage them or an adopted father, Roger, to back them financially. No one, including Roger himself, knew the vastness of the wealth he had inherited from his grandfather. Roger didn't care or want to know because a lawyer had told him once that every hour, his investments made enough profit to finance a small city. Roger cared about his money only if it was helping other people...building hospitals, centers, financing two hell-bent young men as they tackle show business on the Great White Way.
The apartment that Rob and Timmy leased was on the west side of Manhattan in the lower 80's overlooking Central Park West. It was far above anything they could afford on their own...$1,800 a month for three unfurnished rooms. Their real fathers could have rented an entire hotel for several months in their home towns years ago. The price of food, clothing, utilities, and in-town transportation was out of sight. Rob wondered how a kid from a small town could ever make it in the big city without a benefactor. Timmy wondered how people who maintained minimum wage jobs such as retail clerks at department stores managed to pay their bills in the Big Apple...also, $87.50 per seat just to see a Broadway show...how could the average person afford it? Imagine spending that much money on a show if it turned out to be a flop or if the critics had lied about the talent of a performer and he actually stunk!! This reality scared them about how competitive it must be to land even a chorus job in a musical. Did either of them have what it takes to give a patron his eighty-seven-fifty's worth for their two hours' entertainment? Rob knew he was a good singer; he hoped he was THAT good. Timmy knew that a musician didn't require star status, but healso knew that his chosen field must be highly competitive. After all, how many piano jobs were vacant in Broadway pit orchestras? Without Roger's backing they would have felt it futile to even try and would return home after a week's trial with the disappointment of not making it big the first time at bat.
They found a rental agency that would lease them three rooms of furniture on a monthly basis. They bought many knickknacks to decorate their apartment to give it the simulation of a home...pictures, posters, tiny figurines, etc. and they bought the latest trade papers advertising open cattle calls. Timmy went to the musicians union on West 52nd street to have his membership card transferred. Somehow Roger had pulled a few strings and Timmy had gotten his card on the first day he applied. He noticed the bulletin board at Local 802, advertising spot jobs and pit orchestra replacements. Believe it or not, there were several posts for long-running shows. It seemed more secure to audition for one of these, rather than risking taking a job in a new show, going through out-of-town tryouts, and coming to Broadway, only to close after one night's performance. Sometimes if you knew the friend of a friend, you lucked out or other times, you might be fortunate enough to be familiar with the material you need to audition with. One of the biggest hits currently playing on 46th Street was a revival of Frank Loesser's "Greenwillow", which had originally starred Tony Perkins back in the sixties. Lonnie Mitchell, Broadway's biggest producer who had trained with both David Merrick and Hal Prince, revived it and had the presence of mind to cast Danny Hutch, the newest singing sensation from Australia, in the lead role. Critics had raved over his performance and the improvements Jo Sullivan Loesser had made in the revival, complete with six new songs she had found in her husband's vault of 'cutouts'. The ad called for a pianist to play six nights a week and conduct the orchestra on Wednesday and Saturday matinees. Timmy had bought the CD of the original "Greenwillow" year ago. He loved singing "Never Will I Marry" in the shower, loud enough for his father, who was also Principal of the school where Timmy taught, to hear him. He was trying to send his dad a musical message that he was gay...something he'd never have the courage to tell. He knew all the songs from the first production, by heart...in any key. So when he called the advertised phone number for an audition and was told he could be seen at 2:00 PM on Thursday, he all but danced up Central Park West to his apartment to share his news with Rob. If he succeeded, it would be the foot in the door of bigger and better things, plus it would provide them with his first Broadway paycheck. He could even pay for the rent by himself. He wanted to succeed to show Roger his investment had paid off.
Sometimes in all life, but even more so in show business, you just 'gotta be in the right place at the right time'. Somebody 'up there' must have been listening to Father Cliff's prayers because when Arthur Tyler, the conductor, hired Timmy to be his "Greenwillow" pianist/assistant conductor, it was announced that Ronny Claiborn, David Hutch's understudy/stand-by, was going to star in the touring bus/truck company of their hit show. This meant that a new understudy was needed....BOIINNNG! Who was the best-looking unemployed baritone with an upper register, and was a tremendously fast study, familiar with the music...in New York? Timmy ran to the nearest pay phone, called Rob, and told him to get his ass to the 46th Street Theater and fast!!!
Thirty minutes later, Rob arrived by cab. Timmy knew that Rob was perfect for the role. He had only two major hurdles standing in his way. Rob was better looking than David Hutch and Rob was a better singer and actor. It's tough when being so good can be so bad. Sometimes it's not who you know that counts, it's what you know. After Rob had filled the balcony with his rendition of 'Summertime Love', a small commotion erupted off stage right. Old Hank, one of the stagehands had grabbed his chest and had fallen to a heap in the floor with a thud. The other auditioners had gathered around Hank, watching but not offering any assistance or bothering to run to call 911. Rob ran off stage to join the onlookers but instead, he parted the group and knelt, loosening Hank's belt and unbuttoning the front of Hank's shirt. Rob leaned over to listen to Hank's mouth to inspect his breathing or air passageway and then suddenly covered Hank's mouth with his own. He puffed twice down Hank's windpipe and then rose to his knees to begin the CPR manual chest pumping. In the meantime, the stage manager had called for the EMS. Rob continue to work by himself to keep old Hank alive until the emergency unit arrived to relieve him. Before the ambulance arrived, Hank regained consciousness and was breathing on his own. Tearfully, he looked up into Rob's eyes and whispered with all the breath he could spare, "Thank you, young man. God bless you." Many of the small crowd turned away to hide the tears they had in their eyes from the 'near miracle'. Was it an act of God that Rob had been here at the exact moment he was needed or was it luck or divine fate? Whichever it had been didn't matter because Rob left the theater two hours later with Timmy. Rob was the new understudy. Timmy thought of Father Cliff when he imitated him looking up to the sky and mouthing a simple 'Thank you', as he had seen his priest and 'father' do many times.
The following week when the new 'Playbill' was printed, it contained both their names and they went to a gift store and bought a huge case of nuts, candied fruits, imported cheeses, and wine and enclosed the Broadway program before wrapping the gift and sending it home to their 'family', Cliff, Roger, Jay, and Troy opened the package together. There was no doubt in any of their minds that Rob and Timmy had made the right choice and were now on the road to greatness.
Again, fate, heaven, or Lady Luck looked down on Rob and Timmy. It was late November and a strain of the Indonesian flu had hit New York with a vengeance. Many shows had to cancel performances due to this 'plague'. 'Greenwillow' was only slightly affected. Only two male dancers and one female singer came down with the virus...the three of them...PLUS the male star of the show. He would be out at least a week and would have to be replaced by his understudy. As soon as Rob and Timmy heard the news, they went to the box office and acquired four matinee house seat tickets for the following Saturday matinee, in which Rob would not only be starring, but the orchestra would be conducted by Tim Woodrow. They sent the tickets via Federal Overnight Express with a note. "Flu hit show. please use tickets and come to New York immediately. We need your support." Roger didn't know what to think but if his 'boys' needed him, by God, he would be there. Roger also realized that if Cliff accompanied him, it would be the first time they'd ever taken a trip together. There was no way under the sun that Jay would miss out on a trip to his old stomping grounds, but this time he would travel with his one and only, Troy.
At the Thursday evening performance, which was Rob's fifth consecutive substitution, Ronny Mitchell dropped by the show to see how the box-office receipts were faring with the show's star being out with the flu. The overture had just finished and Lonnie took a seat on the back row to watch Rob's entrance. Ronny was stunned by Rob's looks and stage presence, but when Rob begin to sing, Ronny was awestruck by Rob's singing and acting. He felt he'd made the greatest discovery since Alan Jay Lerner had found Robert Goulet in a hotel lobby to play Lancelot in 'Camelot'. Rob may not have a 'name' but in Ronny's opinion, he was Broadway's next great star. The next day, Ronny called Marilyn and Alan Bergman and also, Michele LeGrand with whom the Bergmans had written 'Yentl' for Barbra Streisand. He wanted them to convert the movie, 'Green Dolphin Street', into a musical and to write songs to show off his new discovery, Rob Hawley.
'Green Dolphin Street' would later go on to become a huge hit garnering Tony Awards for Best Musical, Best Book, Best Musical Score and Lyrics, plus Best actor and Best Musical Director for Rob Hawley and Tim Woodrow, respectively. They would make it big...together! Roger would finance Ronny Mitchell's production, thus yielding him millions more to add to Roger's fortune.
However, at the Saturday matinee of 'Greenwillow' to which the 'family' had been invited. Rob had chosen a box of four seats just to the left of the proscenium. At every opportunity, Cliff, Roger, Jay, and Troy led the audience to thunderous applause for the male lead. Roger and Cliff couldn't have been more proud if they had actually sired their 'sons' on stage. It seemed more than a coincidence that the finale of the show would be the entire ensemble of the cast to sing a rousing song, 'The Music of Home', ending with the lyrics, 'Home is where I belong'. Then the final curtain fell and Roger stood and shouted, 'BRAVO!' loud enough to be heard in Schubert Alley, one block over on West 45th. Cliff laughed out loud when he leaned over to Roger to say, "My God, you're worse than a stage mother."
"I am one, by God, I am one!" Roger shouted, continuing to cheer, whistle, and applaud.
Cliff had to return on a 6:00PM flight back to Briarwood for Sunday's service, the next day. He had asked two fellow priests from a neighboring parish to take care of the Saturday confessions for him. Roger, Jay, and Troy, stayed in New York to attend Rob's final performance, substituting for the ailing David who was expected to return to the show on Monday.
Rob and Timmy took their three guests to Joe Allen's after the show. Every star on Broadway, not suffering from the flu, was present for the Saturday night blow out. All those that were called on, performed, either a number from their present show or one from their former hits. Word had gotten around about 'Greenwillow's' understudy stopping the show, so everyone was curious to see and hear the one who had all Broadway talking. When it came Rob's turn to sing, he asked Roger what did he want to hear. It was up to him to choose a favorite. It didn't seem appropriate to ask Rob to sing, 'Fifty Percent', so he asked Rob to sing his second favorite song, Sondheim's 'Being Alive' from 'Company'. Timmy went to the piano and started the intro and then Rob began with, "Someone to hold you too close...". The noisy crowd quieted down to a dead silence to hear Rob. The song was powerful, but intimate. When Rob got to the line, "but alone is alone, not alive" and held the sustained note until the next phrase while Timmy changed keys, the crowd rose to its feet in thunderous applause. The talented audience knew when they were beholding the birth of a new star. Rob couldn't leave the stage as everyone was shouting, "Encore!". 'Being Alive' is one of the songs like 'You'll Never Walk Alone' or 'Climb Every Mountain'. It ends on a big note bringing the house down. Choosing an encore to follow is difficult, Since you've already 'stopped the show', it's best to change the tempo or the mood, so Rob winked and nodded to Timmy and he started to play the first eight bars of "No One Is Alone.", Sondheim's anthem, so often identified with the fight for AIDS. This time when he finished, the applause was replaced by tears as there was not a dry eye in the house. Those in attendance knew who Rob was. He was the next big star, the next competition, their next co-star if they were lucky. The night was one Roger would never forget as he sat there bursting at the seams with fatherly pride.
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The flight back to Briarwood seemed very short as all of Cliff's thoughts were wrapped up in Rob and Timmy's performance. Cliff wanted to stay for the entire weekend, but a priest is like a doctor, he's always on call even when taking time out. It was only 9:30PM when he took a cab from the airport to the manse. Cliff heard the phone ringing before he put the key in the front door. It must've rung 20 rings before he reached it, so, whoever was phoning this hour must have had something important to say. Cliff figured it was Roger calling to see if he had arrived safely and also taking time to tell him 'good night'. This was their first night being separated since his return.
Cliff picked up the receiver and it was Wayne, the church's musical director, calling.
"Hello?"
"Father Cliff? This is Wayne. Are you all right, I've been calling all afternoon and no one answered." Wayne said.
"I was out of town last night and today. What's the matter that you were trying to reach me?"
"Well, this morning when I was having the children practice their anthem for the 9:30 service, two policemen came by the church looking for you."
"Did you tell them I was guilty and had skipped town?"
"No, I didn't know where you were. That's when I first tried to reach you."
"Did you find out what they wanted."
"Yes sir, I'm sorry to say."
"Go on, Wayne, what did they want?"
"Father, they were here to see you about Ben?"
"My secretary? Don't tell me he was arrested for disorderly conduct because I won't believe you."
"No, Father, he...Ben...was killed in an auto accident last night."
Cliff's heart sank to his anus. Jesus! Just when everything was working out the best for everyone! Tragedy always seems to find a way to spoil happiness.
"Did you get any of the details? Was he driving? Where was he? Was he alone? Had he been drinking?" Cliff started rattling off questions like a Gatling gun.
"There was a guy with him. Apparently Ben and he had had dinner and had gone to the 10:00 PM show at the Mercedes Complex. They got out of the movies just before midnight. This guy who Ben was with was driving his car. He was about to pull out of the parking lot onto the main thoroughfare and a sixteen year old kid, who was high on cocaine, according to the police, broadsided the passenger door and Ben was killed instantly."
"The guy Ben was with, was he killed also?"
"I don't think so. He only suffered scratches, bruises, and a broken arm. Father, I think the police referred to him as Jerry Winters or something like that...and then later on this afternoon, you had a call from someone named Jeremy and I wondered it that could be the same person I thought the police had called Jerry. Any rate, this Jeremy said it was very important that he talk with you."
"Did he leave a number where I can reach him?"
"Yes sir."
"Let me get another pen, this one is out of ink....OK, now, please give me the number."
Cliff nervously jotted down the seven digits. He thanked Wayne for calling and told him he would see him at church tomorrow morning. Dear God, this was one of those times when Cliff wanted Roger to be near, but Cliff had faced many crises and had had to listen to many bad tidings on his own, but somehow, this was different.
From sheer nerves Cliff hit the wrong buttons on the phone three times before he was able to reach Jeremy. Cliff was more upset than he had realized. In his mind Cliff kept thinking, 'Damn, that poor kid in the prime of discovering life and on his first date...I know God must have a good explanation for this occurrence and I want Him to relate it to me'.
"Hello?" answered the voice.
"Jeremy?"
"Yes?"
"This is Father Cliff..."
"Thank God you called."
"I just received a call from Wayne, my minister of music, and he told me the bad news."
"I'm sorry to disturb you about this, but last night at dinner, you're all Ben talked about. He respected you so highly and looked up to you like a son would his real father."
"Ben was a tender guy. He was thoughtful of others and was a really fine secretary. I grew very fond of him."
"Father, I...well,...Father...it wasn't my fault...believe me!"
"I know it wasn't, Jeremy. You mustn't blame yourself."
"But I do, Father...You see, Ben told me that you knew about what happened between us earlier in the week and that you knew what we did in the bell tower. Is that true...or was Ben just saying that?"
"We had a talk." Cliff said.
"Then you must know that both of us sinned and God punished us...but He took Ben's life and He didn't take mine..."
"And so you're feeling guilty and want to blame yourself because you didn't die with Ben...is that it?"
"Yes sir."
"Jeremy, Wayne told me that you broke your arm."
"Yes sir."
"Can you drive, or rather, do you have a car to drive if you can?"
"Yes sir, I have my work truck parked in the driveway."
"Could I ask you to come over to my house?"
"You mean now?"
"Yes, I think we should have a long talk and there are things I would like to say to you, only I'd rather say them to you in person than on the telephone."
"It is kinda late...but I know I won't be able to sleep anyhow."
"Will you come over?"
"Yes sir."
"Do you know where I live."
"Yes sir, everyone knows where your big mansion is. It's more like a tourist attraction."
"Then how soon can you get here?"
"About twenty minutes or so?"
"Do you drink coffee, hot tea, or hot chocolate?" I asked.
"Coffee, sir."
"Good, I'll put on a pot and it'll be ready by the time you get here."
"OK, see you in a few..."
"Jeremy?"
"Yes?"
"Drive carefully?"
"Oh, yes sir. I promise."
Cliff hung up the receiver and stood there feeling empty inside. He had lost someone dear to him and he was angry...not at Jeremy, but at God and the world and everything else that had deprived Ben of a long life and getting to know love and happiness. Cliff noticed the book Roger had sent him and his first instinct was to throw it against the wall.
Cliff shouted, "'The Art of Happiness', indeed!! Bullshit!!!"
What would he say in his prayers tonight? 'Thank you, God and fuck you!'?
He went to the fireplace and stacked some logs and started a fire. The flames rose when he added some diluted kerosene. Cliff stared at the fire until he had a white spot in his focal point and in his mind, He saw the innocent look in Ben's eyes and that new haircut he was so proud of...the look of surprise on his face when he found out Cliff wasn't going to condemn him or chastise him for having sex with Jeremy. Ben's look was almost disbelief that a grown man, especially a priest, could condone his actions.
Cliff asked himself, 'Hell, why should third parties interfere with the happiness of others? It wasn't my place to hang a feeling of guilt around his neck. People punish themselves more than society ever could. It's just that society gives them the reason to punish themselves. Damn! Was I wrong in wanting everyone to find the same happiness that I had found with Roger?'
Cliff's viewpoint was that everyone had to have a Roger in his life, but then, that would make him guilty of imposing what he thought was happiness on someone who hadn't completed his search. But when Ben talked about Jeremy to Cliff, Ben thought he had found what he was looking for. Cliff wondered if Jeremy had felt the same way about Ben. Cliff wanted to know. He wanted to find out from Jeremy but he vowed not to press him.
Cliff walked into the kitchen and filled the percolator with ground coffee. placed the pot on the stove and turned up the heat. Music was always therapeutic, so he went to the CD collection and pulled out Mahler's Fifth Symphony which always seemed to relax him whenever he was upset. The soft discords of the strings began to soothe his despair. The mood of the music was interrupted by the phone ringing.
"Hello?"
"Hey, babe!"
"Hi, my love." Cliff replied.
"I wish you'd stayed and gone with us to Joe Allen's after the show. Rob sang while Timmy accompanied him and they were sensational."
Cliff was aware Roger had said something about Rob, but none of his words had registered in Cliff's mind. He hadn't listened to a word Roger had said. Roger went into great detail about the songs Rob had sung and the way the crowd had cheered as Cliff stood there holding the receiver to his ear, not responding. He was in a daze.
"OK, Babe, what's wrong?" Roger asked.
"What?"
"Look, I know you as well as you know me even when you don't say anything...and I can tell something's wrong. So spill it."
That was the first time Cliff felt like crying. He had shed no tears up to that point, but suddenly with his better half on the other end of the phone connection had reached down into Cliff's soul as only Roger could, and Cliff broke down and cried.
Roger knew Cliff well enough to let him cry, get it out of his system, and Roger would wait until Cliff was ready to tell him what was bothering him. It took a few minutes for Cliff to compose himself and then he told Roger everything starting with the moment he heard the phone ringing while still trying to unlock the door.
"Cliff, I know you won't be able to sleep. I don't know if I can get a plane out this time of night, but I promise I'll be home as fast as I can. You went through too much while I was away and I promised you that I would always be there for you...just give me a couple of hours and I'll be there."
Just hearing Roger's voice made Cliff feel better, Knowing that he had someone in his life like Roger gave him comfort. Roger would be home soon and everything would be all right once more. How the fuck had Cliff managed to live while Roger was gone was still a mystery to him. Cliff heard the buzzer from the front gate. He pushed the 'talk' button just to be sure that it was Jeremy whom had arrived.
Cliff opened the front door and went out on the verandah to watch the lights on the car as they approached the house. Jeremy parked, got out of his truck, and walked up the stairs to meet Cliff, who put out his hand and Jeremy took it with a firm grip. Ben was right, he was manly.
"Father Cliff, I'm Jeremy. I don't think we met formally. The other day at the church you just spoke to me long enough to say where the lighting fixture was."
"Hello, Jeremy, it's very nice to meet you. Please come inside."
Jeremy followed Cliff into the foyer and then into the living room. Jeremy stared at the walls, the pictures, the furniture, but mostly the chandeliers. To say he was impressed would be an understatement.
He whistled, "Boy, I imagined what this place must look like from the outside...but I had no idea this was Camelot."
"My partner and best friend, Roger, calls it Shangri La and sometimes Xanadu."
"No wonder," he said, walking over to the window to see the Olympic pool all lit up outside. "Did Ben see this place?"
"No. I..uh..was going to ask him to Sunday lunch next week and invite you to be his guest."
"Me? Why?"
"I don't know exactly what happened between you two in the bell tower and I don't need to know. It's none of my business, but let's say, when he returned back to my office, I'd never seen him happier. To be honest, I'd never seen him happy at all until his meeting with you. You made a sad young man happy and I thank you for that."
"You knew that we had sex, didn't you?"
"Are you telling me or asking?"
"I..I guess I'm telling you...It WAS my first time...with a man, I mean...Does hearing that upset you...I mean, you being a priest and all?"
"No, Jeremy, it doesn't upset me and, really, if you don't want to tell me these things, please don't."
"I want to. I need to talk about them. I told you over the phone about how I was feeling guilty and God had punished us when that car hit us."
"Jeremy, do you mind my asking you if you go to church and if so, its denomination?"
"Not at all," Jeremy said and began to tell many secrets about his family and their strict religious rules he had to live by, most of which had been instigated by Pastor Brindley and his predecessor, Reverend Perry Thompson, who was a renowned hellfire and brimstone pulpit pounder. Jeremy continued relating how he disliked but not hated his domineering and self-righteous father and his belittled mother who had lived through a life of hell with a sanctimonious husband. Jeremy revealed to Cliff that his parents had only had sex a total of three times in 28 years of marriage. Those three times being the nights that Jeremy and his two sisters had been conceived...but not one time ever having sex for pleasure. Sex was for procreation and nothing more. Otherwise it was a sin.
Cliff thought, 'No wonder Jeremy had never had sex, I wonder if he had even masturbated. That explains why he enjoyed his one experience with Ben'.
Jeremy was so well built physically and could probably get a job with any ad agency in the country with his good looks and to think he'd gone through puberty and reached manhood without having a sexual partner made him anachronistic. Ripley wouldn't've believe this tale. The other sad thing about this was that Ben had felt inferior by his looks and yet, here he was... Jeremy...everything that Ben wasn't...and they paddled the same canoe with different oars. Cliff had felt sorry for Ben when he had told of his woes, but now Cliff felt even sorrier for Jeremy who had everything to offer but was too afraid to give.
Cliff was reminded of an old movie, "Wild in the Streets" in which the young population put their parents in concentration camps when the parent reached the age of thirty-five. Perhaps that was the right thing to do if all parents' were as Jeremy's!
Cliff was even gladder now that Ben had lived to have his one experience and he thanked God that Jeremy had finally had his. Maybe Jeremy wasn't meant for Ben, but it was certain he was meant for someone. Cliff had no doubt about his being gay because he was sure there was a huge void in his life for male companionship with a father like his, and almost virgin mother, two sisters, and no brothers. Cliff decided if he had been in Jeremy's situation, he'd probably've robbed a convenience store just so he would get caught and sent to a boys' reformatory to be with boys his age and away from such a religious structure. Cliff wanted to help Cliff if he would let him. After Jeremy finished telling his story, Cliff sat there looking at the misguided youth for a long time before he spoke.
"You know, Jeremy, I don't know whether Ben had a family or not. He never spoke of it. He might have someone to plan his service, but on the other hand, there's a possibility he had no one. I will find out in the morning when I get the full details. If there IS no one, would you be willing to help me with the funeral arrangements?"
"Sure, that's the least I can do."
"Helping someone, even after they're gone has its rewards. It might be some way for you to find closure with the accident. It might give you a few special memories...you know, something more tangible to remember him by. Even though your friendship with Ben was brief, in my heart I know he died happy. I sure you realize you were his first and only companion as you've indicated he was yours. If you had been killed instead of him, you would've liked him to do the same for you...am I right?"
"Yes sir,"
"Then I'll call you in the morning and then let's the two of us get together and make the plans if he has no one else. Does that sound OK?"
"Yes sir."
"I understand you were coming to St. Genesius with him on Sunday."
"Yes sir,"
"Will you still come?"
"Yes sir."
"There's a bunch of guys I want you to meet and get to know...about seven or eight of them who would like to offer you friendship and to be there for you when if need someone for support."
"Are you sure? I mean...will I fit in?"
"Trust me. After you meet them and spend some time with them, you'll feel like they're your brothers and you're one of their family."
"If you're sure...then I will."
"Good. Now you have my phone number and anytime day or night you need me to talk with, I'm here for you...also, if you feel you ever have to 'get away', I have rooms in this house I've never seen."
"I understand now why Ben said the things he did about you."
"I'm sure I'm not worthy of whatever he said, but whatever it was, it would give me comfort knowing that he thought of me as his friend. Now, will you try to get some rest and think of the happy time you spent with Ben, if only it was on two occasions, at least they were happy."
"Yes, Father, they were."
"Good. Memorize the moments and keep them to yourself forever in your tiny vault of dreams."
"I'll try, Father, I'll try."
Cliff looked into Jeremy's watery eyes and Cliff felt pleased when the young man put his one good arm without a cast around Cliff's waist and hugged him.
"Thank you." Jeremy said and left.
Cliff watched the truck as it retraced the way Jeremy entered the driveway. Cliff closed the door, turned out the lights, undressed and went to bed. He hugged his pillow with the satisfaction of knowing that it would be replaced by Roger in the morning.
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" BOOK THREE-"Briarwood Lost"--chapter thirty-one).
Copyright Ritchris, 2005.