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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-One
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"Death ends a life, but it does not
end a relationship, which struggles
on in the survivor's mind toward
some final resolution, some clear
meaning, which it perhaps never finds."
Robert Anderson
from "I Never Sang For My Father"
Copyright 1968 by the author.
Either Ben had no family that he claimed or they had disowned him, for there were no relatives to be reached. Cliff and Jeremy arranged a simple graveside service for him after Roger and Walter finagled a legal compromise with the coroner to have his body released for burial. Troy, Jay, Ryan, Kyle, Jeff, and Jeremy acted as pallbearers. Ben never knew the family of guys that would care so much for him after his death. Jeremy didn't meet the other five until the day of the funeral and the 'Briarwood Boys' adopted him as if he were one of them.
The following Sunday, the ones who had attended to Ben's coffin, invited Jeremy to sit with them, except for Jeff who helped serve mass. Cliff looked down from the pulpit at the pew of Adonis-like masculinity and, to him, the five of them looked like January through May in a Playgirl calendar. Cliff thought it was a shame none of them had Rob and Timmy's musical talent, because if they had, he would've fitted them in tight jeans, hired a choreographer, and given n'sync and the Backstreet Boys a run for their money. Jeremy didn't seem ill at ease with the first part of the mass. Cliff wanted him to feel comfortable with his sermon, also. In other words, Cliff wanted to welcome Jeremy into the fold if he was willing. With so many young men attending St. Genesius, now Cliff tried to choose topics that they could relate to. After the offering, he rose to take his usual stance at the lectern and looked at Roger for the support he gave Cliff with his eye contact. Cliff smiled back at him and began his lesson.
"In the present day, we sometimes identify with life's principles more in pop culture than we do in the Holy Scriptures. Therefore, my text today will not be taken from the Bible but I would like to use the endings of several familiar movies to illustrate my point. In the real world, not the celluloid one, everything eventually ends in death for the victim but the survivors usually live to see the next day. Most Hollywood plots come to a temporary conclusion. The movie ends but even before the lights come up in the theatre, we are left knowing that life will go on.
"For my first example, let's take the movie, 'The Happy Ending', an appropriate place to begin our journey. Michel LeGrand and the Bergmans introduced one their best compositions for background music, 'What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life?' In the film, Jean Simmons goes through many trials and tribulations while unstably married to John Forsythe. When the divorce is almost finalized, the two main characters meet for one last time, and the husband asks his wife, "Knowing what you do, if we had to do it all over, would you have still married me?". The wife looks at him, smiles a knowing smile, turns, and leaves...leaves him and leaves the question unanswered. It is for him and the audience to decide what her smile implied...THAT was 'The Happy Ending'...or was it? Happy endings for the masses usually consist of the girl getting the boy at the end of the picture. Of course since the advent of the sexual revolution, we now even cheer when the boy gets the boy or the girl gets the girl. Who'd've thought it?
"Unorthodox endings can even educate. How many of us as children learned to accept death so well as when Walt Disney decided it was all right for 'Old Yeller' to die in front of a bunch of kids? Of course, the dog death backfired on the producers of 'Turner and Hooch'. I read somewhere that the studio lost millions of dollars at the box office by killing off that loveable creature.
"Endings sometimes leave us with the thought, 'I wonder what would've happened if...?'. For example, suppose Deborah Kerr hadn't been hit by the car before going up the Empire State Building to meet Cary Grant in 'An Affair to Remember'? The picture would have ended a good half hour earlier. Suppose Shelley Winters hadn't drowned in 'A Place in the Sun'? Would Montgomery Clift have stayed with her to have the baby or would he have run off with Elizabeth Taylor instead of dying in the electric chair?
"Movie endings help us cope with things like death. Jean Simmons, again, trying to teach her young son how to be brave over the fatal auto accident which took his father, played by Robert Preston in James Agee's, 'A Death in the Family'. One of the most beautiful love stories in recent years was portrayed by Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger in 'Shadowlands' where two platonic strangers meet and marry, to see her through her terminal illness and to provide a loving home for her soon-to-be-orphaned young son. Again, Anthony Hopkins, but this time with Anne Bancroft in '84 Charing Cross Road' in which two total strangers living on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean fall madly, deeply in love and never meet in the film.
"Probably, in my opinion, the most realistic ending to a romantic movie in the twentieth century was written by Arthur Laurents for Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford in 'The Way We Were'. Here is the story of two people who loved each other more than life itself in spite of the fact they knew they were totally wrong for each other. Old Henry the Eighth would have loved this one because the movie taught us that it is all right to divorce...sometimes divorce is necessary to make things better. Hubbell and Katie remained friends and their love for each other was constant even after they broke up and remarried other spouses. Incidentally, it was Mr. Laurents who showed us the true meaning of friendship when he wrote, 'The Turning Point' for Shirley MacLaine and Anne Bancroft..
"Yes, the movies educate us in situations we know about and others we've read about. They teach us about life, love, jealousy, hatred, heartbreak, and death. We cry; we laugh; we applaud; we empathize...we can open our Bibles and find the same kinds of characters. We can come to church and meet our fellow parishioners and find they have the same feelings or are going through the same conflicts that are depicted on the screen, but these are real people in real life...and we observe or we get involved. Sometimes we think we've seen it all before...some place else...under similar or different circumstances and we can choose to ignore what we see or we can offer a helping hand because even though death takes someone dear from us...the rest of us who remain must go on. Some of us will live to see tomorrow...and even the day after..."
Cliff's seven minutes were up. It was time for him to finish the mass and give the benediction. He looked at Roger when Cliff had finished his trip through La La Land and he gave Cliff a silent applause. Cliff politely ignored him as he wanted to get a reading from Jeremy's expression. The boy was smiling contentedly and Cliff hoped he had succeeded in making him welcome.
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Roger rented a temporary facility for the 'boys' to get started with the crisis line. Ma Bell installed fifty lines to begin with and Troy, Jay, yan, Kyle, and Alex all agreed to take turns manning the phones around the lock. Ted told Alex that he would help whenever he could, but he somehow felt inadequately listening to young people's problems. Alex tried to convince Ted that he could do as the professional shrinks do, just sit there and listen and don't offer any kind of advice. Alex used to think if he could dream up some fancy name for 'listener', perhaps 'audiologist' or something like that, he could make a fortune. He wouldn't have to go to school or get a degree. He couldn't prescribe pychotropes or tell people what they should do or what he would do if he were in their shoes...just listen and let them talk things out until they arrived at their own conclusion or remedy. Then Alex would say, 'Time's up! That'll be one-hundred bucks, please!'. Ales knew it sounded too easy, but hell, that's all the doctors did that he'd been to. So it became a house rule at the center..."Offer No Advice!", and hung a sign over each phone.
It was Jeff's idea to name the center, "Shelter Helper". In Alex's mind he was sure Jeff was trying to find a homonym for the Beatles song with a similar title...and even though, it was not their intention to provide physical shelter for potential callers, it would be more like an emotional harbor for those seeking help.
The second week, it was Alex's turn to take the graveyard shift...11:00 PM to 7:00 AM. Since the 'boys' didn't expect that many calls after midnight, we decided that whoever worked those hours would work by himself. Like all other crisis centers in the country, all of them used pseudonyms so that the callers wouldn't know to whom they were talking and it also helped from getting personally involved with clients. Alex chose the name 'Gene', even though no one knew his reason was...'Gene', short for 'Genesius'. The center was averaging about ten to fifteen calls per shift, usually from guys or gals who had had a fight or broken up with their girl or boy friends. Most of the morning calls came from school kids who were home, sick or playing hooky and wanted someone to talk with. Occasionally around eight or nine o'clock at night, some kid would call who had had a fight with his mom or dad and had been grounded or had been told he or she couldn't see 'that' boy or girl anymore. Then slowly, the center began to get more serious-type problems such as teen pregnancy or some kind of rash on the genitals or questions about the symptoms of HIV or other diseases and conditions.
The 'boys' were lucky. In almost fourteen days after opening, not one of them had had to deal with a suicidal threat. Leave it to Alex to win the prize...alone on the night shift.
(ring)
"Good morning...Shelter Helper," Alex answered.
No one said anything.
"This is the Shelter Helper. Do you want to talk?"
Still, no answer.
"Are you in trouble?" Alex asked, "Are you hurt and can't talk?"
"I...I...can talk." said the young male voice.
"Good...are you all right..Do you want me to call an ambulance or anything?...What I'm trying to say is...'Do you need medical attention'?"
"No.."
"That's good. Now what I would like for you to do is relax, take your time, and when you feel you're ready...tell me why you called and I'll see what I can do to help you...OK?"
"...O..K.."
Alex knew not to hurry or rush the caller. Alex wanted him to take whatever time he needed but Alex was anxious to know why he'd called. For a split second Alex panicked, wondering what he would do if he suddenly had a call on one of the other lines. He was inexperienced and didn't want to make a false move. Luckily, Roger had installed a direct on-line communication between the center and the police department or EMS if they needed them. Alex would hit the green button and it would alert whatever assistance he needed and he would silently type the problem to them. The center referred to all possible suicides as 'jumpers' even though they might have a gun, knife, or pills in hand...not actually ready to jump off a building...'Jumper' meant potential suicide risk.
"What's your name?" the voice asked.
"Gene" Alex told him. "I won't ask you your name unless you want to tell me."
"Thanks...Are you recording this call?" he asked.
"I can't. It's against the law unless I tell you first."
"Good...Is there anyone else listening to us?"
"Nope...just you and me."
"You promise?"
"I promise...I want to tell you something before you say anything else to me. " Alex told him. "I swear to you that I won't lie...OK?"
"That's good...Can I ask you how old you are, Gene?"
"About your age, I would imagine."
"Oh?...And how old do you think I am? You don't have some kind of camera so that you can see me, do you?"
"No...Let me ask you a favor. If you don't want to tell me you real name, would you make one up, so that I can call you something?"
"Oh...OK...It's...Joe...Joe's my name."
"Thank you, nice to meet you, Joe. I'm glad you called."
"Why?" he asked, suspiciously.
"I was just sitting here at my desk wishing that I had someone to talk with."
"Oh? Are you lonely, Gene?" he asked.
"We all get lonely sometimes, Joe. Don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Are you feeling lonely now, Joe?"
"Kinda."
"Well, now that we both have someone to talk to, we don't have to be lonely anymore...either of us...or if you like...we can talk...and be lonely together."
"You're sneaky."
"No, not really. I was just trying to see if we had anything in common," Alex told him.
"I doubt it."
"Well, we're both lonely. We have THAT in common for starters."
"Yeah, but that's about all."
"How do you know?" Alex asked.
"Have you ever sucked a dick?" he asked, bluntly.
Alex was taken back as he wasn't ready for that question out-of-the-blue. He took a breath and tried to keep the conversation on a light level.
"Oh, now you're trying to pry into MY personal life, Joe. Do you wanna know if I'm gay. Is that why you asked?...Do you have something against gays?"
"No."
"I'm not answering you, but if I had said I had sucked a dick, would you've hung up the phone?"
"No," he answered. "It's just that I have."
"You have what?" Alex asked.
"SUCKED A DICK...PAY ATTENTION!!" he snapped.."NOW WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THAT?"
"Joe, I'm not here to condemn or pass judgment on what you do. If that's what you wanted to tell me, I'm glad. Do you feel any better now?"
"Some...although I'd be more comfortable talking with you if you'd told me you've sucked a dick too."
"Is that what you WANT me to say to you?"
"Yeah..."
"OK, I've sucked a dick...how's that?"
"Better...if you meant it...OH I FORGOT!...You promised NOT to lie to me. didn't you?"
Alex was trapped! 'Joe' had HIM on the defensive. Maybe Alex should call himself on another line and see what Alex would tell himself about what to do or say.
"That's what I promised, Joe."
"Well, you see, Gene...I've sucked lots of 'em...Lots and LOTS of them. I'm a queer, Gene. A faggot!...A Mother fuckin' cocksucker...only my mother doesn't know it...or at least she didn't...not until last night."
"Your mother found out you were gay?" Alex asked.
"In a manner of speaking. I always told her to keep the fuck outta my room...only yesterday, she went to K-Mart and bought some of those new Martha Stewart sheets they advertise on TV...and my mother went into my room and was gonna surprise me by putting new sheets on my bed while I was gone...only, it was my mother who got the surprise."
"What happened, Joe? Wanna tell me about it?"
"Sure, I don't mind...THE CAT'S OUT OF THE BAG, NOW!!. She moved my mattress and found out where I keep all my secret stuff!!"
"What did she find, Joe?"
"Every goddamned thing you can think of..muscle magazines, men's dirty magazines with pictures of men fuckin' and suckin' and jerkin'. I had used rubbers there too, all sticky with old cum... and two dildos...one black and one white...a vibrator and a small AccuJac machine under the bed."
"Good heavens, what did she do...or rather what did YOU do?" Alex asked.
"She scooped up all my paraphernalia and arranged everything as centerpiece on the dining room table."
"Did your dad see them?"
"Aw, no...he's dead. There's just my mother and me that live together. I don't have any sisters or brothers...I'm what you would call, 'a mother's boy'!! Any rate, I got home from work around five-thirty last night, and when I came in the house and walked through the dining room...that's when I noticed my private world all arranged on the dining room table. My mother came in and acted like she didn't notice anything and said, 'Sit down. You're just in time for supper. I've made you your favorite meal'. I didn't sit. She went back into the kitchen and brought me a large white plate. On it she had cooked and arranged a long Polish sausage and two huge meatballs to look like a man's cock and balls. She placed a serving of sauerkraut to represent pubic hair. She had piped a stream of mayonnaise or something coming out of the end of the Kielbasa and it looked like semen....and then she looked at me and said, 'What's the matter, son? Are you hungry, you cocksucker!!?' She slammed the dish on the table, started crying and ran down the hall to her bedroom and slammed the door. That was the last I saw of her."
"Is she all right?" Alex asked, wondering if Joe's mother was possibly a 'jumper' or if Joe had hurt her.
"I guess. She didn't come back out of her room all night, I heard her turn on her TV around nine o'clock 'cause she never misses watching, 'Millionaire'."
"What have you been doing since?" Alex asked.
"I cleaned up the dining room and took all my stuff to the backyard, put it into a big pile and started a bonfire. I burned it all, Gene...every dirty item I owned, went up in smoke. I knocked on my mother's door to tell her what I'd done and she ignored me. So I wrote her a note and apologized for hurting her. I wanted to tell her about the rest of my private life, but I knew I'd hurt her enough. I know that her heart must be broken. But if I were to open up and tell her how I lied about working late while I was all the time going down to a dirty book store and sucking as many cocks as I could, every weekend. Gene, I know she'll never forgive me and I don't know if I can ever face her again. I just wanted to run away!"
"Where would you go, Joe?"
"NOWHERE. I have no place to go. I can't think of any place that's far enough away!!" Joe said, beginning to cry.
"There is one place..." he continued.
"Where's that?" Alex asked.
"You know..."
Alex entire body froze. He had received training for suicide intervention from Dr. Hughes, but this is the first time he had had to use it. Alex needed to find out if Joe had already committed the act and was waiting to die or if he was just contemplating it, wanting Alex to stop him or understand if Alex was too late. Alex tried to relax and not alarm him as much as he.
"Joe...are you thinking about hurting yourself...or have you already done something you want to tell me about?"
There was a long pause while Alex reached over to press the green button and have someone trace the call...if it wasn't too late.
"Not yet," he finally said..."but I am thinking about it?"
"Do you have anything with you that you could harm yourself with?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Everything. I have my choice on ways to go."
"Like what?"
"I'm...uh...sitting on the side of my bed with my dad's gun...I have his straight razor...and I have a bottle of mother's sleeping pills. Which one do you think I should use?"
"Is that why you called me?...To make the decision for you?" Alex asked.
"Maybe."
"I told you I would help you...but I won't help you do that."
"DON'T TRY TO TALK ME OUT OF IT! YOU CAN'T!!!"
Alex had to make a decision...Press the green button...Notify the police... Signal the EMS or patch the call through Father Cliff's line at his house. Alex didn't want to fail his duties, but he didn't want to lose his first jumper either. Chances are, if the police arrived in time to stop him, they would take him to jail. The EMS would subdue him and pop him with Haldol until they could get him to the nearest crisis center or mental hospital. Either way he would be out and back at home in a few days and would probably try the same thing again. Only next time, he might not call the center and succeed with his fatal plan. Alex thought it best if Father Cliff monitored the call and supervised his intervention. Alex rang the number which patched him into the center. At the same time he clicked on the IM of the computer so he could type his problem and receive messages from Cliff in the event he needed help. It only took a couple of minutes when Alex saw Cliff was on-line.
"Alex, is that you?" the Instant Messenger read. "I'm here. This is Cliff. Do you need some help?"
The keyboard on my computer was rigged so that Alex could type in total silence. He kept Joe talking while he briefly described what was going on to Father Cliff. Alex was listening to Joe at the same time.
"Joe, would you mind answering another personal question?" Alex continued.
"Go ahead," Joe said, "you already know every secret I have...what's your question?"
"Joe, are you gay or just a back room cocksucker?" Alex could imagine Father Cliff's reaction when he spoke so blatantly to Joe.
"What's the difference?" Joe asked.
"A lot." Alex answered. "Have you ever cared or had feelings about a guy? You know, someone other than just some hidden face in the darkness of an adult book store?"
"No," he replied.
"Then I guess you're not really gay then?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Because there's a big difference from being gay, where you know the person you're having sex with. You know his name, his face, his likes and dislikes. You know when he's happy or sad. You know when his birthday is. You think about what you want to buy him for Christmas. You think about him during the day...where you would like to take him to dinner...which movie you'd like to see with him. You would know that when YOU'RE feeling sick or in a bad mood, he cares and wants to know if he can help. After a while, you begin to examine just how much you care for each other. Would or could you live together as a couple...to share good times and bad times together...not alone...together. You know if you're in love with him and if he's in love with you. You go to bed together every night, not always just to have sex, but to get warm and cuddle and kiss and hold each other. Then, when and if you DO decide to have sex, you know just the right things to please him. He knows what turns you on and does everything to make sex perfect for you...Joe, do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"
"I think so...no, that's not true. I DO know what you're talking about." he replied.
"Have you ever thought how you would go about meeting such a person and how it would be IF you met him?"
"I used to think about it all the time...ever since I knew I liked boys better than girls...BUT I also knew I could never bring a boy home to meet my mother. She would've had me locked up in a psycho ward. I mean I told you what she did last night with the sausage and everything."
Alex knew that remark must've confused Father Cliff, but somehow Alex knew Cliff would understand.
"Have you ever thought about moving out and living on your own?"
"Sure, but then, what would mother do, if I left?"
"What's she gonna do if you do something to yourself like using a gun or a razor. Are you going to leave her making her think your death was all her fault...that she drove you into doing away with yourself? Is that what you're trying to do...put a guilt trip on her the rest of her life?"
"No..."
"Then, YOU tell ME why you have such notions in your head!"
"I don't know."
"Joe, you really don't want to kill yourself, do you? That's why you called me, isn't it?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure."
"You opened up to me when you thought I was a cocksucker, too, didn't you? You wondered how I could suck cocks and go on living. I'm sorry, Joe, I told you I wouldn't lie to you, but I did."
"You're telling me that you don't suck cocks, is that it?"
"No, I do...but I'm not a cocksucker...I'm gay. That's what I was trying to do...show you the difference."
"Then you're telling me I'm not gay?"
"No, you may be...but you don't know HOW to be gay. You have to go out and meet guys...the kind you're attracted to. Find the ones that are interested in you and in what you have to offer...and YOU DO have something to offer...Believe me."
"I would like to."
"Go to parties, gay bars, social clubs that are full of guys just like yourself...waiting to meet someone. Then you can go out on dates until you find the right one. He's out there somewhere, but he's NOT in the back room of a book store with his dick pushed through a glory hole! Would you believe there's a gay group at the church I attend?"
"You're kidding?"
"Nope."
"What is it, some kind of devil worship?"
"No, we're Christians. I have someone very close to me who's gay and he's going to become a minister."
"And your church doesn't condemn him?"
"No, why should it? He's one of God's creatures just like everyone else. He didn't choose to be gay...neither did I, for that matter. That's the way we were born. Some people are born with blonde hair, blue eyes, others are born with dark hair and green eyes. We don't choose to be Afro-American, Chinese, Indian, Native American...that's decided before we come out of our mothers' wombs...I think a person's born gay."
"Do you really believe that?"
"With all my heart...I'm a walking example. It may be that your mother might never accept you as being gay...but then that's her problem. She brought you into this world and it's up to her to decide to love you as you are, not as she wants you to be. No matter how hard you try, you can't change the color of your skin and you can't change the way God made you even if you're gay."
"You honestly believe that it's God who made you gay?"
"Only if I choose to believe in God."
"Why have I never heard these things before?" Joe asked.
"It doesn't matter. The main thing is that you've finally heard them...and you almost waited too late to listen to them."
"You've...you've mixed my mind up...You've got me thinking..."
"Good, I wanted to...Now, can I ask if you still want to use that gun or razor?"
"I...I don't want to...but what if I can't or don't meet someone?"
"Trust me...you will."
"Gene?"
"Yes?"
"My real name is Matt...short for Matthew."
For the first time since he had called, Alex relaxed. He don't know what gave him the courage to say the things he had said to 'Joe'...maybe because Alex felt he had an angel listening in on the conversation. He looked at the computer screen to see a message written from Cliff. "Good job, Alex, you just put a star in your crown." Alex wanted to cry just to relieve his tension but now that he had earned Matt's trust, he had to tell Matt where to go to get help...not just professional help but emotional help from someone HE could trust. Alex didn't want to mention St. Genesius Church to him because Matt might think Alex was some religious radical trying to convert him. Alex didn't want to become a zealot as he had turned his back on God when his mother died. Walter already had one 'priest-to-be' in his family and Alex was not about to become the second.
"Matt, because of the rules where I work, I'm not allowed to meet with you...but I, or one of my closest friends, are here at the center twenty-four hours a day. We're here for you any time you want to call or talk."
"Thank you, Gene. You've...sorta opened my eyes...made me see things differently. How can I thank you?...I guess...you saved my life."
"I don't think I saved your life, although I appreciate your saying it...No, I think you saved your own life when you picked up your phone and dialed this number. I just happened to be the one who answered."
"Do you have the time to tell me the names of some of these clubs or groups you were talking about?"
"Matt, I have from now until seven in the morning and if I'm not through by then, the guy on the next shift will take over when I leave."
Matt talked for another hour with Alex. The two were interrupted three times by other callers, but their problems were minor compared to what Alex had just gone through with Matt. One learns by experience and one of the things Alex had learned was that another person was needed on the staff for all shifts, beginning the next day.
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The leaves were in the early stage of Autumn...trying to remain green by holding onto the last drop of chlorophyll in their veins. Once they had turned yellow, then red, and finally brown, they would die and fall off the mother branch. Human organisms when they are dead are said to rise, expand as if on wings, and seek God; not so with plants and trees. They die, never knowing in a few months a new life will sprout where they once were. Humans didn't have that guarantee when they were gone. Walter sat in the largest of his new suite of offices, looking out the window at the leaves. His life would be complete if only his wife had lived. He had two fine sons that any man could be proud of. He had a new conclave of friends who loved him. His business had grown beyond all expectations. Thanks to his management of Roger's investments, Walter was a multimillionaire. There was just one piece missing from his picture...Bruce.
Walter had been pleased by Jeff's turnaround. Even Alex had accepted Jeff's sincerity, now. And as for Alex, Walter had always been proud of him. Except for Alex's attempt at suicide, he had never been an iota of trouble for his dad. Walter now had controlling interest of his law firm. Growing from a simple partnership, (with a partner who had died), Walter's firm now consisted of twelve full-time practicing attorneys encompassing everything from Family to Corporate Law. He was considering branching out and had decided to interview a few prospective attorneys to handle civil and liability matters.
Sarah, Walter's secretary of twenty years, had arranged for several candidates to meet with him. He wasn't impressed by the first two...one was too stodgy with no relative sense of caring for clients. The second, Walter had dismissed because of his list of priorities in which he expressed "the law is the law" and there's never an excuse to bend it a little to further the clients' needs. The next was David Royer, a well-dressed, well-spoken graduate from Vanderbilt Law School He was a married man without children; around 35 to 38 years old. He was trimly built proving that either he watched his diet or worked out several times a week...pleasant looking, but not extremely handsome. He had a firm speaking voice with no trace of origin accent. On the surface, Walter felt that David looked as if he could fill the bill in what he was looking for.
"May I ask how you heard about my job opportunity?" Walter began.
"Yes, I indirectly heard from a mutual friend," David replied.
"Oh, who?"
"I believe you represent a client about to build a hospital in Briarwood."
"I might."
"His first name is Roger."
"And is Roger the mutual friend to whom you were referring?"
"Yes."
"May I ask how you know him."
"We were roommates in college. Roger was in pre-ministerial and I was in pre-law." David said.
"Then, of course, you must know Cliff, too."
"I've only heard of him...never met him. As a matter of fact, Cliff was all Roger talked about every waking moment that he had. By the end of our freshman year, I felt I was a personal friend of Cliff's."
"How well do you know Roger? I mean sometimes guys can live together through four years of college and then they both graduate without so much as knowing each other's middle names."
"Are you asking if I slept with him?"
"No, that's none of my business." Walter said, staring at David's resume.
"That's what you were implying...and the answer is 'NO'. I didn't sleep with him. I knew of his relationship with Cliff when they were boys, but Roger also knew about my relationship with Vivien, the girl I married."
"Oh, I see." Walter said, unconcerned. "Now, let's get back to business. Tell me about yourself...your likes, dislikes, how you feel about dealing one on one with clients...and clients who can't pay your fee...clients that you KNOW are not innocent but you're willing to give them your best shot no matter what."
For the next ten minutes David talked non-stop about the way he loved using the law for his clients. He expressed a genuine concern for people, especially those falsely accused or those tried and convicted by rumors and the uncaring way the media painted innocent people guilty. Walter sat back in his chair and listened. If he hadn't known better, he'd've thought David was delivering one of Cliff's sermons. The more David talked, the more Walter wanted to add him to his firm. When David finished his pitch, Walter smiled at him and said, "Amen.". They both laughed at David having preached instead of relating details about himself.
"I am a very happy man with a very happy firm." Walter began explaining, "I have two sons and they are happy AND they make me happy. My friends and co-workers are happy. We work in a happy atmosphere and environment even when things don't appear to be happy, we find a way to make them so. Hearing what I just said, what is your response?"
"You mean, am I happy?"
"Yes."
"Not completely."
"Oh? And why not, may I ask?"
"I'd rather not say."
"If you came to work at this firm, is there anything I could do to make your life happier...I mean, what do you need? Security? A large salary? Big benefits?...What?" Walter pressed.
"Mr. Clayton, at present I'm going through a rather difficult transition in my personal life."
"You're having marital problems?"
"Indirectly. Let's say, I'm having marital problems but my wife isn't."
"I'm intrigued by your answer. I would like you to go on and explain but I'm afraid I would be infringing too much in your personal life...and in a job interview I could be sued for that, as you well know." Walter looked down at the resume before him, then back to David. "Does Roger know about the things your are referring to?"
"No, I haven't seen or talked to Roger since I arrived in Briarwood."
"Then maybe you should see him or see him AND Cliff and see if you can come up with some solution. I'll be honest with you. You've impressed me highly in the few minutes we've spent together. I would like you to consider joining me and my firm, but I don't know the severity of your problems. I hesitate, not knowing that you can overcome your dilemma."
"IF I came to work for you, and remember I said, 'IF', there are certain things I feel I should share with you...things of a somewhat intimate nature that might have some bearing on your offering me the position."
"Would you care to share them with me now?"
"Perhaps. It also might let me see how you react to some of the things I'm talking about."
"Try me." Walter challenged.
"I'm not that familiar with Briarwood...its people...its morés."
"Go on."
"I know that each client you represent cannot suffer from your views on his guilt or innocence or his character, but that those standards don't always apply to fellow workers."
"Are you saying you've been convicted of a crime?"
"Nothing quite like that." David answered. "All right, I'll come out and say it! Do you harbor ill feelings toward a person who might be gay?"
Walter was so relieved when he heard this, he almost shouted.
"Good heavens, no. You should have known that from the way I talked about Roger and Cliff. Why, they're two of my closest friends."
"Then you'd have no problem with me, if I were gay?"
"Certainly not."
"I realize I might be speaking prematurely...but I don't know for sure if I AM gay. I just have the feeling that I might be."
"Since you've opened Pandora's Box or the closet door, so to speak, may I ask if you've ever had a gay experience?"
"Never. I just think I want to have one."
"No sex with any male whatsoever? Even as a teen?"
"No, not even then."
"Then may I also ask, 'why now'? I assumed when you told me the marital problem was yours and not your wife's, that she has no knowledge of any of this?"
"Not a word...and I feel so guilty by betraying her with my thoughts. I'm sure she suspects something. We no longer have sex the way we did when we were first married, seven years ago...Don't laugh! I know...'the seven year itch'. I've thought of that. I know that what I'm saying might seem strange to you. You're happily married with two sons."
"I'm a widower." Walter added.
"Oh, I'm sorry, forgive me."
"No harm done." Walter assured him.
"So I know it would be an impossibility for a straight man to understand what I'm going through. I have no logical explanation for it myself."
"Do you know when you first started having these feelings?"
"Sure, I can pinpoint it almost to the minute...The day I met Roger at college. I looked at him and wanted to be his clone. I watched him day and night like he was some icon or something that was sent for me to observe and pattern myself after. I knew he liked boys and because he thought that my interest was in girls, he ignored me as a sexual object. We rarely discussed any kind of sex. It embarrasses me to say this, but sometimes when he was changing clothes and he would undress...totally... with only him and me in our room. I would get an erection like no female ever gave me. I didn't let him know because I didn't understand why this happened to me. He was a guy and so was I...and guys don't get excited looking at their naked roommates. You want to hear something funny? I don't even know what guys do together when they're in bed. I've tried to imagine it but I don't have any idea."
"They do some of the same things that men and women do." Walter said to David's surprise. "Don't look at me as if I'm an expert. I'm a couple of years older and I have kept my mind more open than you have, perhaps, and I've learned bits and pieces." Walter said, coyly, "David, since the job interview is over...and it has been for several minutes, do you mind if we just talk to each other 'man to man'? Forget the 'Mr. Clayton' formality and let's just be 'Walter and David' for a while."
"I think I would like that." David replied.
"For a moment, I would like you to be graphic and describe what you would like to do with a man if you had the chance...and what, in turn, would you like him to do to or with you?"
"Jesus! I don't know if I can speak that frankly to you. I've only known you about half an hour...and then, you might become my boss and what would we say to each other every day in the office...working side by side...and me having opened up and revealed my private sexual fantasies to you. God, that was a mouthful I just said."
"I know what you meant." Walter assured him.
"I..I guess...I maybe want to know how it feels to hold another man's penis in my hand to start with."
"OK...Curiosity is a natural instinct." Walter said.
"I suppose I said that because I always wanted to touch Roger's, but was never brave enough to try....Am I making a fool of myself in front of you?"
"No way, believe me...in no way. I guess I'm playing a little game with you. I'm trying to get to the core of your unhappiness. If being gay or your acceptance of being gay is what's keeping you from being happy, then I'm willing to talk to you about it...no strings attached and no condemnation. I think this chat between us is good and important. It's developing a trust or a bond between us. Do you know what 'I' mean, now?"
"Yes, I believe I do."
"I would like to play another game with you and if you get upset, please let me know and I'll stop...I promise." Walter said.
"All right, I trust you...or I'm beginning to, at least."
"I presume there's less than five years difference in our ages."
"Approximately."
"...which means that Roger, you, and I are almost the same age, then."
"Yes."
"Then tell me. If you were here applying for a job and we were to meet under different circumstances...say at a restaurant, perhaps,...just David meeting another guy, Walter..."
"OK."
"Would you find yourself attracted to me?"
"I might...if I got to know you better."
"No, just on first meeting..."
"You mean like love at first sight?"
"Yes, something like that."
"Yes, I would find you attractive, Walter. To be honest, I was attracted to you the moment I walked into your office...Now please don't take offense...you said we were playing a game."
"No offense taken...Let's go one step farther, if we may. If you were meeting me for the first time and found me attractive, as you said, would you want to go to bed with me?"
"Gee, I don't know...You promise me you won't get angry with anything I say as long as we're playing a game?"
"I promise."
"Then, yes, I would very MUCH like to go to bed with you."
"In your fantasies, did you ever think about kissing a man?"
"Yes,"
"I mean the idea doesn't repulse you or turn you off?"
"No, not at all."
"Then, would you like to kiss me?" Walter finally asked what he had been leading up to.
"You mean here and now?...Yes."
"Then, go ahead, if you want...see what it's like."
David's forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He hesitated, not knowing what might happen afterward...for in a single moment, his entire life might be changed and it scared him. Slowly he leaned his head toward Walter's and delicately let their lips touch. David exhaled a huge sigh of relief. His fear was suddenly gone. The moment he had dreamed about, fantasized about, was upon him and the feeling was more wondrous than he had ever imagined. He kept his mouth on Walter's for approximately fifteen seconds, although to him it was more like a culmination of eternity. David kept his eyes closed as he slowly withdrew and waited for Walter to speak.
"How was your first kiss?" Walter asked, bringing David back to reality.
"I don't think I can put it into words...but it was everything I expected and more."
"Open your eyes and look into mine." Walter said and David complied. 'How do you feel? I mean are you experiencing any guilt? Are you angry? Do you feel like hauling off and knocking me to the floor?"
"No, none of those things. I'm a bit embarrassed perhaps...like a school boy when he's kissed a girl for the first time. That's a rather unique feeling for a guy my age."
"Are you embarrassed because you did it or are you embarrassed because it was I that you kissed?"
"I think the latter. Not because it was you, Walter, but because you are also Mr. Clayton, my potential employer. Now, let me ask you...how do you feel, having just kissed me?"
"As long as we're being honest, I wanted to grab you in my arms and kiss you when you walked through the door."
"My God, Walter, are you confessing to me that you're gay?"
"For years and years."
"Good Lord, and I was so afraid to say to you the things I said."
"Does it make a difference to you that I'm gay...You don't discriminate, do you?"
"What do you think?"
"Let's get back to reality for a second."
"OK."
"I realize what we did was going a bit too far. We reached beyond the bounds of employer-employee. We endangered our working relationship by involving ourselves with personal feelings and desires. Do you honestly believe we could work together and maintain some kind of friendship? It wouldn't have to be physical...I've violated every hiring law in the books this afternoon and left myself wide open for you to sue me and until I know what you're thinking or how you feel, I won't be able to rest. I'll be expecting a subpoena every time someone opens my door."
"Walter...Mr. Clayton...please relax, I have no intention of suing you. I suppose I could use what we did as a bargaining tool to get you to hire me.?"
"You mean like blackmail?"
"Hell, no...nothing like that. I want to get to know you better...in more ways than one, if you get my drift. You know, Mr. Clayton, I think I would be VERY happy working with you. There might even be nights we have to work late...VERY late. We might even have to go out of town together on business trips. Is that possible?"
Walter smiled at him..."More likely, probable."
"I would like that." David said, looking content.
"I hesitate in asking, but what about your wife?"
"Don't worry, I love her too much to hurt her...and I think she loves me enough to want me to be happy."
"Then you'll accept my offer and take the job? We haven't even talked about salary or benefits."
"If Roger can trust you with his zillions, I think I can trust you to be fair."
"Then can I say, "Welcome aboard?"
"Not just yet. I don't want to officially start working for you until I can kiss you once more."
"Come here."
This time, David hurried into Walter's arms. He wasn't surprised or didn't resist when Walter slipped his tongue into David's mouth.
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The following Sunday at church, Cliff spoke about 'Love after the honeymoon is over'. Somehow the message reached all the parishioners whether or not they had a piece of paper saying they had been married officially. After the final "Alleluia" Cliff made his way to the front door to say goodbye to all his beloved brethren. Cliff was pleased to see Walter keeping up his steady attendance. Walter introduced Cliff to his new law partner and his wife, David and Vivien Royer. Behind them was my brood of boys, Alex and Ted, Ryan and Kyle, Jay and Troy, followed by Jeremy whose face was beaming.
"Good morning, Father Cliff." Jeremy said.
"Good morning, Jeremy. It's always nice to see you and to see you looking so happy, I might add." I said back to him.
"Father, I would like you to meet a friend I made this week at the Search Club. His name is Matt."
"Good morning, Matt, and welcome!. I hope you had a nice time at church this morning and I hope to see you and Jeremy again next Sunday.
"Thank you, Father." Matt said. "And don't worry. I think you'll be seeing a lot of us...together."
Cliff had only heard Matt's voice Alex had patched Matt's call into Cliff's phone line that fateful night. but Cliff recognized it immediately. Cliff marveled at the way things turn out sometimes...But then, why should he be surprised? Don't they always?!!
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(To be continued in "Briarwood" BOOK THREE-"Briarwood Lost" --chapter-thirty-two)
Copyright Ritchris, 2005.