All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.
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"BRIARWOOD"
Copyright Ritchris, 2005
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
Copyrigh Ritchris, 2002
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK THREE
"BRIARWOOD LOST"
Chapter Thirty-six
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"Someone is on your side.
Someone else is not.
While we're seeing our side,
Maybe we forgot.
Things will come out right now.
We can make it so.
Someone is on our side.
No one is alone."
"NO ONE IS ALONE"
by Stephen Sondheim
"Into the Woods"
Act II
Copyright 1987
Every seat in the Briarwood High School auditorium was filled. Spectators and right-wing on-lookers were standing three-deep along the side walls, straining their red necks to get a glimpse of the stage. The big maroon velvet curtain, hanging there since World War I, it seemed, was drawn closed, forming a backdrop for the two tables, one on either side of the proscenium. At the table on stage right sat Chuck Brindley and his father, the Reverend Winston A. Brindley. Opposite them, on stage left, sat Jeff and Johnny. In the center was a chair for the moderator, Principal Harold Bartolli. The local ABC affiliate in Briarwood was carrying the debate, covered by two stabilized cameras and three more technicians with steady-cams on their shoulders. In the auditorium, the front row of seats was completely filled by reporters and photographers from all sides of the political spectrum, ranging from the Church of Christ's "Advocate" to the New York gay magazine, "The Advocate" and painting all viewpoints in between. The TV director was counting down the seconds till air-time. Mr. Bartolli was awaiting his cue. Johnny reached over and placed his right palm over Jeff's left hand on the table, as a gesture of support and good luck.
"Three...two..."
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, townspeople, students, and visitors. Tonight, the Briarwood High School is sponsoring a debate over a school matter...whether or not the gay students at the school should have the right to be recognized by the student body and faculty and also be allowed to form and maintain a service club for student gays and Lesbians. The format of the debate is a little unconventional compared to most debates, but it was agreed upon by both arguing sides. To my right are Charles Brindley, better known to his fellow students as 'Chuck', and Charles' father, the Reverend Winston Brindley, minister of the Universal Pentecostal Church of Briarwood, representing those who are against the club. To my left are Jeff Clayton, a student at Briarwood High, and John Kane, the co-founder of 'My Right to Rights', a gay organization in Summerville.
"The difference in this debate is that Mr. Clayton and Mr. Kane have chosen to rebut any arguments or complaints that their opponents choose to make against the founding of such a club. They have stated that there are no charges or complaints they wish to make toward the 'cons'. Therefore, Mr. Brindley will challenge the 'pros' with a series of questions which their opponents will answer with a given time of 90 seconds per response. This is a rather delicate but heated topic in the community, so I would like to ask the members of the audience to refrain from cheering or jeering, regardless of the viewpoint you might support.
"Gentlemen, are you ready?"
All four debaters nodded in the affirmative.
"Then let's begin. The debate will last approximately two hours, cutting off at 10:00 PM. Let me wish good luck to both tables." Mr. Bartolli said as he took his seat center stage.
Chuck and his dad had a small stack of papers which they had shuffled and reshuffled, finally haven gotten them into an order which suited them. Jeff and Johnny sat quietly behind a bare table, which held only two glasses of water...no papers, no notes. Chuck rose, holding a sheet of paper, and faced his opponents.
"Lately, there have been articles in the news," Chuck began, "stating that homosexuality is not a choice, but rather that gays are born gay. How do you reply to that statement?"
Jeff arose and faced Chuck, "Choice? That's funny. A choice? Do you think I or any other gay would CHOOSE to be the way we are, knowing how we have to hide or defend ourselves in nearly everything we do or every place we go? Do you think a gay CHOOSES to be the victim of hate crimes, being called names such as 'queer', 'faggot', and, pardon me, 'cocksucker' in front of friends and family? Do you think a gay CHOOSES to rent an apartment, knowing he'll be evicted because of his bedroom preference? Do you think a gay likes to be called an 'abomination' by churches who preach love for all of God's children? In case you're having difficulty with my questions, let me tell you, the answer to all of them is 'no'. A gay person has no more control over his inbred behavior than a person who is born left-handed or one who is born with red hair and violet eyes. A guy or a girl doesn't just live their life one way and then when they reach puberty suddenly decide. 'Oh, today's the day, I'm gonna choose to become gay.' That's not the way it works. It's been proven that gay tendencies have been found in all mammals. Dogs, cats, lions, elephants, they are known to be born with gay traits. Animals don't have a choice over their preferences...neither do human beings...gays in particular." Jeff sat down.
The second question was expected, as Chuck held his Bible and began reading Leviticus, Romans, and First Timothy and emphasized, 'abomination', several times. Jeff was well prepared for this one. He presented the same viewpoint he had to his dad and brothers, ending with 'women who wore red dresses should be outcasts'. Jeff almost laughed out loud when he looked down from the stage and saw Chuck's mother wearing a red autumn frock, just as he had hoped she would. There was a small rumble and tittering in the auditorium as several women in the audience wearing red dresses had all eyes turned to them when Jeff had made his statement. The women wearing the red attire suddenly wished they were naked or that Chuck would hurry and get to the next question. One woman wearing red, seated in the next to the last row of the auditorium, actually got up and left.
"Please, please!" Principal Bartolli said, "May we please try to maintain some kind of order?" He used his hand to pound the portable lectern. The crowd quieted and again focused its attention on Chuck who was ready with his next question.
"Isn't it true that gays and their gay organizations recruit younger children, thus promoting pedophilia?"
Jeff turned red in the face as he began his reply. "I'd like to know where you get your speculative information? In no way do gays recruit children, their peers, or older adults. Sometimes a closeted gay or one who has suppressed his homosexuality is made aware of his traits and comes forward either to express his concealment or deny what he's running from. But he is NOT recruited. As for pedophilia, check the criminal records in any state or in any country and you'll see than in a majority of all cases of pedophilia, the perpetrator is a straight person...sometimes even a married person. The percentage of gays convicted of such a crime is less than one percent. Check the police files if you don't believe me!"
Before Jeff could catch his breath, Chuck hammered Jeff with, "How do you explain AIDS and the way AIDS is rampant in the gay community?"
"Chuck! Chuck! Chuck! Don't you read the newspapers or watch TV? As far as the incidence of AIDS or HIV-positive cases go, gays are now in the minority of people contracting the condition. It's straight kids that hold the majority of newly reported cases. When it was announced in 1985 that AIDS was a 'gay' disease, gays did something about it. They began practicing safe sex and chose their partners more carefully. The largest percentage of new AIDS cases is found now in young straight men from ages 16 to 24. Black heterosexuals lead the percentage over the gay crowd now...especially straight black males who pass it on to their girlfriends. So before you, and others who feel the same as you, start making charges, you'd better investigate your facts! Next?!!!"
Chuck looked flustered and shuffled through his notes while bending over as his father whispered to him. Whatever Reverend Brindley said to him, it brought a smile back to Chuck's face as he regained his confidence.
"Jeff, I really don't want to get personal, but I've heard rumors that it's your ambition to become a priest. I would like to know how you could consider such a profession, knowing that in your private life you are sinning, or doesn't your church teach from the Holy Bible and believe all its words?"
"I didn't want to get personal either, but since YOU did, let me say that you and your dad are 'something else'! Apparently you don't teach the words of the Bible, only your interpretation of what you want the words to mean. The texts in the Old Testament were put there to become law for Jews to abide by, but nowhere in the New Testament does Jesus, not even one time, preach against sex of any kind. He never brings up the subject. To the woman at the well, who was a known prostitute, he didn't condemn her or say she's was doomed for hell, he just calmly told her, "Go and sin no more", never mentioning what her sin was. So show me where the Bible says it's a sin. We've already discussed the 'abomination' verse in Leviticus, but as I said before, how can you uphold this law and defy all the others about eating shell fish, pork or rabbits. The same chapter condemns men with short hair, trimmed beards, or tattoos. Leviticus condemns near-sighted people, hunchbacks, and crippled people. In that bible, women could be put to death for having sex while they were having their period. You can't adhere to one law and ignore the others. The way I personally see it, ignoring the rest of the book of Leviticus is an abomination."
This remark sparked a small amount of laughter from the audience. Jeff was scoring his points one by one, in spite of the angry looks Reverend Brindley was sending to the members of his congregation who were in attendance.
Chuck was losing his self-control now. "Oh, yeah? Gays want to get married BUT they can't reproduce which is God's plan."
"Is that a question or are you making a statement to convince yourself or your supporters?"
"I'm stating a fact!" Chuck said, his voice quavering. "But I'll make it into a form of a question. How can gays procreate?"
"Jeff, they do it all the time."
Chuck looked puzzled as did some of the members of the audience. It appeared that Jeff had backed himself into a corner and couldn't get out of it. Everyone knew that gays couldn't procreate. They were anxious to hear Jeff explain himself further.
"You'd be surprised at how many men get married because society forces them to...not to another man, but to a woman. Statistics show that 20% of all married men have or have had overt sex with another male. Among young married men, 40% of them say that they are bisexual. But married gay men have children all the time with their female spouses. Thus, according to the principal of passing genes from one generation to the next, they are actually procreating gay babies. If you look out into the auditorium, those figures represent about the first fourteen rows of the audience."
All over the auditorium, women looked at their husbands in a new light. Jeff's remark was making each of them try to recall any event or idiosyncrasy they might deem suspicious in their male counter-parts. Some of the men couldn't help from squirming in their seats whether they were guilty or not. Jeff had made his point and even the men looked at each other askance. If Jeff was correct, for every ten male friends they had, two of them were involved in gay activities and that was difficult to believe.
"Are you saying that there are that many gays in the country?"
"Twenty percent." Jeff replied. "While I'm quoting statistics, let me lay another figure on you that'll stagger you. In the latest journal of sexual behavior, it's estimated that over 90% of all males and 55% of all females have had at least one homosexual experience in their lifetime. It might have only been an all male masturbation session around the campfire with the Boy Scouts, but that counts. You're an Eagle Scout, aren't you, Chuck?"
Chuck's response seemed to fluster him. "Well...yes."
"Then you must know exactly what I'm talking about."
Old Reverend Brindley slammed his Bible shut and stared lividly at his son. He arose and spoke to his son.
"This debate is over. We're going home, and Chuck, I want to have a long talk with you when we get there.!" Reverend Brindley stormed off the stage. Chuck, feeling alone and deserted, looked left and right, not knowing whether to follow his dad or to stay and defend himself and his views. He chose to slink off stage right.
Principal Bartolli stood and said, "It would appear that one side of the debate has forfeited. So it looks like Jeff and John have won!"
The audience broke into applause. Jeff was speechless because he was prepared to answer more accusations and arguments. He raised his hands to quiet the crowd. After a two minute ovation, the cheers subsided enough for Jeff to ask a question to his principal.
"Mr. Bartolli, what about the club?"
"The faculty will discuss it at the regular faculty meeting next Monday. Having won your debate will give added strength to your request. Is there anything else?"
"Yes, I'd like for you and all the audience who have concerns that weren't discussed here tonight, to go to the internet and log on to Google dot com and type 'anti-gay arguments'...hit Google search and wait for the download. From there, scroll down three or four items until you find one that says, 'Turn Out', which will link you to the 'Turn Left' dot com page of fifty-five anti-gay arguments and their rebuttal. I think all the answers are there."
"Thank you, Jeff, we'll do just that!" Mr. Bartolli replied, "If there's nothing more, then I declare this debate over."
Once again, the applause began as Jeff turned to Johnny and gave him a huge hug.
"You did it, little guy!" Johnny said to him.
"I just got started good!" Jeff replied. "The little yellow-livered chickenshit left too soon."
"Jeff, he couldn't beat you if he'd stayed all night and asked a thousand more questions."
"Yeah, but I didn't make my case strong enough."
"What were you trying to do, change the world? or get your club OK'd?"
"A little of both, I guess...but as long as we get the club legalized, that's enough for right now."
"You've got a long time ahead of you in which to change the rest of the world...but you know something? I think your logic and rebuttals will still be safe and sound when you're ready to use them on a higher level."
The two of them were joined on the stage by Cliff, Jay, Troy, Walter, David, Alex, Ted, Kyle, Ryan, Jeremy, and Matt. They clustered around the little hero and his white knight. Of the group, it was Cliff that Jeff hugged.
"I'm sorry, Father Cliff, I wanted to do better and say a whole lot more."
"I know, I know, big fellow, but I'll help you now. We can do wonders in our church...together. This was only a start...but a good one." Cliff said, hugging him tighter. Cliff turned around to face the family group. "Do you all want to come to my house for a little late supper and a bit of celebrating?"
They all agreed and walked off the stage arm in arm in arm in arm.
Once Jeff was in his dad's car with David, Alex, and Ted, he looked at Johnny and said, "I guess you're going home tomorrow?"
"Yes, there's a bunch of things I've neglected that I need to tend to. But I'll be back." Johnny replied.
"When and for how long?" Jeff asked excitedly.
"As soon as I can" Johnny said, then added, "for how long?...forever, if you'll have me."
"Uh oh!" Walter interjected, "Looks like we'll have to make another permanent space at the dinner table."
"Dad?" asked Jeff.
"Yes, son?"
"You know what I wanna do?"
"No, what?"
"When I get the money Uncle Roger gave me, I wanna build a big house for Johnny and me...right next door to our house."
"Son, that's a year or so off. but we'll see. It's your money and you can do with it as you see fit. Very frankly, I can't think of any neighbors I'd rather have than you and Johnny."
"Me neither," Jeff replied. "Alex, what about you? Are you moving out too?"
"No, why should I? I can live at home and save the money I'd use for rent." Alex said.
"You fucking cheapskate! You've got millions and you want to sponge off Dad."
"Shut up, knucklehead. Don't forget, you're still my kid brother and I can beat you up!" Alex joked, thumping Jeff's head with his finger.
"Ted?" Jeff said.
"Yeah?"
"Are you gonna marry Alex officially now?"
"Hell, no! You want people to think I'm after his money?"
"Well, if you do, Alex can buy you season box-seat tickets now for basketball, football, and baseball!"
"Hell, with Alex's money, he could buy me a team if he wanted to."
"Oh?" Alex said, wickedly. "Do you want one?", he asked.
"Yeah, a swim team with all blonde swimmers with real tight muscles." Ted replied.
"THAT'S one thing I'll never buy you." Alex said, smiling at his mate.
"Ted, are you still planning to go into sports journalism?" Walter asked.
"That's all I've ever wanted to do since I was a kid," Ted answered.
"If there's anything I can do to help, let me know." Walter offered.
"Just remember, 'Mr. Cosell', if you leave town to follow some team, I'm going with you." Alex said to Ted.
"I wouldn't go anywhere without you, babe."
"It looks like in the near future our house is going to be rather large for only two people," David said to Walter.
"Don't worry, love, by the time that happens, we're bound to've adopted three or four more. Cliff always seems to attract stragglers and if he doesn't take them in, we will." Walter replied.
By the time Walter and his entourage reached the Cole mansion, Cliff. Jay, and Troy already had the house lighted. Earlier, Jay had strewn crepe paper streamers, banners, balloons, and flowers everywhere, honoring Jeff's triumph.
"How'd you know I was gonna win?" Jeff asked.
"I just know you and I knew you couldn't lose," was Cliff's answer.
Jay and Troy carried trays containing flutes of champagne, passing them out to their guests. Kyle had arrived with Ryan whereas Jeremy had come with Matt. Everyone was present to make a complete family picture...all except for Timmy and Rob, in New York.
It would have been a difficult contest to judge who was the proudest of Jeff, his real dad or Cliff and Roger.
Roger said quietly to Cliff, "It looks as if I've received my first dividend of my long-term investment."
"I see so much of us in Jeff, the way we were when we were younger. He has spunk, drive, determination and, if he follows his dream, some church in some diocese in some state is going to have a wonderful, caring priest," Cliff responded to Roger.
"He's more like Cliff 'Junior' than Walter Junior or Roger Junior."
"You think I don't already know that? I just hope he doesn't fall in love with the same guy that I did."
"I don't think there's much chance of that, my love. I may not wear a priest's vestments any longer, and I did suffer a slight stroke, but my insight is as powerful as it's always been. Johnny is THE one for Jeff. I hope they'll always be as happy as us."
"Dear God! Whoever gets Jeff for its rector is going to get a hell of a package deal, what with Johnny thrown in as a bonus!"
Cliff tapped on the rim of his goblet to get everyone's attention.
"Guys," Cliff said. "I know we're here to celebrate Jeff's victory, but I would like the Golden Voiced Orator, himself, to make the first toast."
Jeff was taken by complete surprise. He sat frozen for a moment, then rose, walked forward and turned to face his huge family. His eyes surveyed the room. There was Father Cliff, his mentor, his best and wisest friend in the world; Roger, his benefactor and second best friend; his dad, Walter, for whom he thanked God, and his dad's new lover, David, who had brought closure to his dad's loneliness; his brother, Alex, whom he had always loved and admired, Alex's other half, Ted, with whom Alex had chosen to spend the rest of his life. Then he looked at his 'adopted' brothers, Kyle and Ryan, who had found a new meaning to the phrase, 'second chance'; and at Jay and Troy, who couldn't live without each other. Jeremy and Matt weren't really part of the family, but their presence counted too. They had been blessed to find their way into the selected group. At last, Jeff's eyes focused on Johnny, his newly found love...the one who had come to him, quite by accident, but whom Jeff considered as having been sent by God to be with him for all time. Jeff was beaming as he looked on the large gathering.
"I've never made a toast before," Jeff said, "I really don't know what to say except I suddenly feel like Tiny Tim in Dickens, 'Christmas Carol'. I guess all I can say is, 'God bless us, every one'!"
They all raised their glasses high.
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When the celebration party had ended, everyone left, leaving Roger alone with Jay and Troy while Cliff returned to the church to check on his phone calls and whatever items on his agenda he had to attend to. In the hallway outside Cliff's office, a young man was seated all alone. The unexpected guest appeared to be around twenty-five to thirty years old. He was indeed handsome to say the least.
"How do you do? I'm Father Cliff. Did you have an appointment to see me, one which I either accidentally overlooked or one which I foolishly forgot?"
"No, sir," replied the young man. "I was driving through town and noticed your church. I can't say for sure why I stopped, but I suddenly felt an urge to come inside and pray. Afterward, I thought I needed to speak with you."
"I'm very glad you did. The doors of St. Genesius are always open to pilgrims."
The young man laughed. "I've been called lots of things in my life but never before a 'pilgrim'! I guess in a way I am. Forgive me I didn't introduce myself to you. My name is Christopher Curtis...Chris, if you like."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Chris," Cliff replied. "Are you visiting someone in Briarwood?"
"No, I know no one here. As I said, I'm just passing through."
"Are you headed north or south?"
"I'm not really sure. I just came from the south, however. Atlanta, Georgia, to be exact."
"Your accent doesn't appear to be Georgian.?
"I was born and raised in New York. I moved to Atlanta to take a work position."
"May I ask what line of work you're in?"
"I...I'm a...well, I used to be a priest...an Anglican priest."
"Your phrase, 'used to be', intrigues me."
"I was the assistant rector of a church in Atlanta up until a few days ago."
"Then pardon my presumption, but are you running away from something or running to something better?"
"I suppose I'm running away. I...I really have no place to go. I resigned my position, got in my car and thought I'd let the Lord lead me where he chose for me to go."
"And as of now, the Lord has led you to St. Genesius?"
"Perhaps, but I'm not certain if this is the destination He means for me."
"Did you leave your church in good stead? I mean, no one is looking for you for some felony?"
"Oh no! I'm guilt-free except for a lifestyle which wasn't accepted by my senior rector."
"Would you care to give ma a few details?"
"Maybe, if you can explain where an openly gay priest can serve the Lord and be able to attend to his parish without the condemnation of the diocese?"
"That might be easier for me to explain than you think. Tell me something, quite honestly, if you don't mind."
"I have nothing to hide since you know my basic secret."
"Did you know or did someone tell you I was looking for an assistant rector at St. Genesius?"
"No, sir. As a matter of fact, I had never heard of St. Genesius until I drove past a little while ago."
"I assume you have all your credentials?"
"Am I qualified? Yes. I'm a college graduate. I completed my seminary and was ordained by the Atlanta diocese."
"Are there any black marks on your record? I mean, you weren't accused of any crime such as molestation?"
"To be honest, yes, I was, but I was totally exonerated by the youth involved and by his parents. But the humiliation I had to suffer to clear my name.... I...I could have stayed at my parish, but when one is accused of such a crime, it's all but impossible to have everyone believe your innocence without casting a look of question, especially when you look into their eyes while serving them bread and wine."
"Chris? Where is your next stop? I mean, where are you going when you leave here?"
"A motel, perhaps...after I've eaten. I'm pretty tired from driving and I am a bit hungry."
"Would you accept an invitation to come to my house for dinner and then stay the night?"
"I don't know..."
"I think you'll feel very comfortable at my place. I live with my longtime companion, Roger, and we have a couple of young men, about your same age, whom my partner and I have unofficially adopted."
"Am I to understand that you're a...gay priest?"
"For years. Nearly half my congregation is filled with gay men and women."
"Dear God! I don't know what to say!"
"Just say, 'yes'. I'm sure Roger and our two 'sons', Jay and Troy, would love to meet you. After dinner, I would like to have a long talk with you to see how you would feel, 'fitting in' at St. Genesius."
"Father Cliff, do you believe in divine intervention?"
"I lived by it all my life."
"You don't suppose it was God who led me here, made me stop, and come inside to pray?"
"Wouldn't surprise me in the least."
Chris choked up and could hardly speak, "Then I...I will accept your offer for dinner."
"I was hoping you would, Father Chris..."
"Just 'Chris' please, for now."
"Then call me, 'Cliff' for now."
"I'm sorry if I feel like crying, but I can't seem to help myself."
"Then go ahead and cry. I'm here to help you."
Chris broke down and the tears ran down his cheeks.
"Thank you, Cliff."
"Today is Thursday. I don't suppose you'd stay through Sunday and help me celebrate mass, would you?"
"I...I have no vestments."
"Poppycock! There's an entire wardrobe of vestments in the dressing room."
"Let's wait until after we talk tonight. Then if you still want to ask..."
"Fine. But if you feel as if you're being 'ganged up on' during dinner, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Cliff? If I kneel, will you bless me?"
"Nothing would give me greater honor, Chris."
Chris knelt before Cliff while Cliff reached in his pocket for his small vial of oil. He tilted the small bottle to cover his right thumb with the oil and signed the cross on Chris forehead. "I bless you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Father Chris."
Chris took Cliff's left hand and kissed Roger's commitment ring while Cliff placed his hand on top of Chris' head.
"Come on, now! Let's go eat. You and I have a lot of things to discuss!"
Cliff was astounded by Chris' appearance in his office. Had Roger set this whole thing up or was it an act of God? Everything had happened just TOO perfectly,--- just as Roger had predicted.
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THE END OF BOOK THREE
(To be continued in "Briarwood" -- BOOK FOUR -- "Father Jeff" -- chapter thirty-seven)