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"
Copyright Ritchris, 2002
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK FIVE
"FATHER JEFF"
Chapter-Fifty
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"..but alone is alone, not alive..."
Stephen Sondheim
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Johnny arrived promptly at 6:55PM to pick up Alan. Being that Mackintosh was no longer on daylight savings time, the sun had set at 6:15. Not only was it dark outside, there were no lights on in Scott's cottage. Johnny tapped on the door, but no one answered. This was strange. Alan had agreed, though with a bit of reluctance, to have dinner with Johnny and Jeff.
"Perhaps Alan fell asleep or was in the shower," Johnny thought. "Had he left the house to take a stroll in his new town? He didn't seemed depressed enough to hurt himself, or worse. "
Johnny knocked harder and called Alan's name, but to no avail. He still didn't get an answer. Since there were no locks on the door, Johnny took it on himself to enter the darkened house to try to find out what was going on. He turned on the light switch in the living room, next in the den, and finally in Alan's designated room.
Upon clicking the wall switch, Johnny heard Alan's voice saying, "Turn it off!". Johnny flipped the switch off, but not before noticing Alan sitting on the floor in the corner of the bedroom. Alan's knees were drawn up and he held his arms tightly around them.
"Alan?" Johnny summoned quietly. "Is anything the matter? Are you all right?"
"I'm no worse off than the last time you saw me earlier today." Alan replied, almost robotically.
"Why are you sitting alone in the dark?"
"When the lights are out, I don't have to be aware of being alone."
"Did you shave, shower, or get some rest?"
"Nope."
"You're not coming to my house to meet Jeff and have dinner?"
"Nope."
"Do you mind telling me why not?"
"Because it was something YOU wanted me to do. It wasn't what I wanted."
"Then why didn't you say something earlier?"
"It's just a game I've learned to play since I learned I was sick."
"What kind of game?"
"It's where I have control over my life and can disappoint people whenever I like."
"And you like playing this game at other people's expense?"
"I'll pay you for whatever your fucking dinner cost you."
"I wasn't referring to monetary expense. That's minimal. By inviting you to dinner, I was offering you the chance to become friends with Jeff and me."
"I have no friends and I don't want to make any new ones!" Alan said, and then added, "I USED to have friends, but my so-called friends don't want me around any longer."
"Because of your illness?"
"What else?"
"Jeff and I know about your illness and that doesn't keep us from wanting you for our friend."
"That's bullshit! There'll be plenty of guys you can make friends with, long after I'm gone."
This kid was suffering depression so badly, Johnny realized, that changing Alan's mood would be a genuine task without medication. Nothing he could say would replace an anti-depressant.
"Have you eaten anything?" Johnny asked, warmly.
"Nope."
"Would you like me to look in the kitchen and see if there's something in there that I can fix for you?"
"How about a cup of hemlock?"
"You want it hot or cold?" Johnny replied, placating him.
"Cold, I don't want the pain of burned lips."
"Do you mind telling me what happened after I left you this afternoon?"
"Nothing dramatic, if that's what you want to hear. I just didn't feel like having a happy dinner with two happy people."
"Because you were afraid that some happiness might rub off on you"?
"No. If I thought that it would, I'd've gone just to see if 'your happiness' could hide some of these goddamned blotches all over my body."
"Alan, Alan, Alan," Johnny said, more sympathetically, "I don't see your blotches when I look at you. I quit looking at Aids symptoms years ago. I'm only interested in the person. You could have three eyes and an elephant's tusk growing from the top of your head, and I still wouldn't notice them."
"You can overlook anything that doesn't affect you personally. It didn't take me long to realize that you, and probably Jeff, aren't HIV positive. Both of you have long lives ahead of you. I don't know where the fuck you get off, trying to cheer up people like me."
"Alan, when you were diagnosed, did you get any counseling from your doctor? Have you been to any support groups or received therapy from a professional?"
"Let's see. You asked me three questions, all at once. And the answers, in alphabetical order are, 'no', 'no', and..... oh, yes, 'no'!"
"Then no one told you about the advancements that have been made in treating Aids? You haven't heard about the new drugs? You haven't tried any of them?"
"You're really on a roll...three more questions, and three more 'no's'!"
"Well, it's time you got educated and stopped this 'doom's day' outlook you have on life."
"My dad wanted to send me to Paris where that actor, Rock Hudson, went. I'm not sure if my dad wanted me to be treated or if that was just his way of getting me away from him and from my mother's social life."
"Pardon my saying it, but 'fuck your dad...and your mother'! According to your dad, you chose NOT to go to Paris, but decided to come here to Mackintosh instead. Am I right?"
A long pause, then "I guess so."
"Well, starting tomorrow morning, you're gonna meet me at the center. I have several tapes, movies, and books I want you to see."
"Got any of older naked men having sex with boys my age?"
"Come to think of it, I do. But those are not the ones I want you to look at."
"It's kinda hard to jerk off looking at pictures of dying Aids patients."
"The ones I want you to see are of guys not dying. They're alive and living normal lives."
"Sorry if I sound repetitive, but 'bullshit'!"
"You didn't answer me a while ago when I asked if you'd shaved and showered. Have you?"
"Nope."
"All right, I'm going to turn on the lights. I want you to go into the bathroom and clean up while I go fix you something to eat."
"Yum, yum." Alan replied, sarcastically.
Johnny flipped the lights on once again. This time he got a better and closer look at Alan. Alan's cheeks were smeared from tears he'd shed for the past few hours. Johnny went to him and put out his hand to help Alan stand.
"Come on, you little jerk! Take my hand. Get up and march yourself into the bathroom."
"You like playing 'father', don't you?"
"I hate it! But sometimes I have to."
Begrudgingly, Alan took Johnny's hand and slowly raised himself to his feet. When he stood, his face was about three inches from Johnny's. They peered into each other's eyes for a few long moments.
"What?" Johnny asked.
"I was just thinking, it's a shame I didn't know you when before I got sick. I never had a boyfriend my age or even your age. The youngest guy I ever gave myself to was around fifty-five years old."
"Not even when you were a young teenager?"
"Nope," Alan replied. "It doesn't take a doctor or one of your trained therapists to know that what I was really seeking was a father substitute...not even a substitute, I was looking for someone to be my real father."
"I'm nowhere near your father's age, nor can I be a substitute, but I CAN be your friend...if you'll let me."
"Would you be afraid if I kissed you?"
"I wouldn't be afraid, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
"Oh, I know all about Jeff, your lover. I'm not trying to come between you. I just want someone I can kiss. Do you think I'll infect you or something?"
"Heck no! Ninety-nine percent of the people I come in contact with have Aids or are HIV positive."
"And how many of them ask if they can kiss you?"
"A few."
"And?"
"I haven't let any of them kiss me. Not because of the virus. It's just this thing I have about being faithful to Jeff."
"OK, you can relax. I'm NOT going to kiss you. I just wondered what you would say."
"And now you know."
"Yes, now I know."
"Will you be my friend?"
"Maybe."
"That's the most positive thing I've heard you say," Johnny said, letting go of Alan's hand. "I don't want to upset you, but you're gonna find lots of guys here in Mackintosh who'll want you to be their friend."
"Bring 'em on! The more the merrier! Or should I say, the 'gayer'?"
"I see you can crack jokes when you want to."
"Oh, I'm just a barrel of laughs, especially when I'm about to throw up."
"Well, go clean up! And for God's sake, brush your teeth!"
"My breath smells bad?"
"It could wilt lettuce!"
"Sorry,...friend."
When Alan said the word, "friend", Johnny pulled Alan close to him and gave him a big hug. Then, with one hand, Johnny swatted Alan's butt. "You better take two showers because your body stinks too!"
They exchanged smiles and Alan went into the bathroom while Johnny left to go see how bare Mother Scott Hubbard's cupboard was. A few minutes later, Johnny opened the bathroom door where Alan was busy shampooing his hair.
"Hey!" Johnny called out.
"Yeah?"
"I was scouting food in the kitchen for you dinner..."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I don't suppose you like broccoli, do you?"
"I love it!"
"You're kidding?"
"Nope, it's my favorite vegetable."
"OK, go back to your showering, I'll see what dish I can concoct out of leftover vegetables and half of a broiled chicken."
"What did you say?" Alan yelled above the noise of the splashing rinse water.
"Nothing. Just keep doing what you're doing!"
"OK,"
Johnny reclosed the door while shaking his head. "Damn!" he said to himself. "He likes broccoli? I should've known. He defies all other laws of convention, why not the one about the green giant? He LIKES broccoli! I don't believe it!"
Johnny removed several small dishes in the refrigerator, each containing a tad of this or a tad of that...just a bunch of things that Scott had saved instead of poking them down the disposal. Johnny sampled each dish for its freshness before placing it in a small pot to reheat on top of the stove, Next, he quietly moved into hearing distance to see if Alan was still inside the shower. He dialed Jeff and gave an up-to-the-minute account of everything that had transpired since he arrived to pick up the dinner guest.
"He wanted to kiss you?" Jeff asked.
"Yeah."
"And did you let him?"
"Heavens, no, baby!"
"Then why not? Why didn't you let him?"
"Jeff, are you giving me some kind of fidelity test?"
"Of course not! I just wanted you to know that if he HAD kissed you, that would've been all right with me."
"Jeff, you should know that I didn't tell you about the incident to get your approval."
"Then, why didn't you let him kiss you?"
"I'm not sure." Johnny answered, almost exasperated.
"Johnny, you should be experienced enough to know that when one of your clients tries to come onto you, it's because he's seeking some kind of much-needed attention."
"I know that."
"So.....what's the plan? Are you gonna bring him home for dinner?"
"I don't think so. I preparing a meal for him out of some of Scott's leftovers that I found in the fridge."
"Are you coming home, then?"
"I want to talk with him after he gets out of the shower and assess his mood. I want to make sure I can leave him by himself before I head home."
"That's fine."
"I might have to stay here until Scott gets home from the Puff."
"That's all right, too. Just play it by ear and if you need me for extra support, just give me a ring and I'll be over in a jif!"
"I'll call if we need you."
"And, Johnny?"
"Yes?"
"Did you say he really likes broccoli?"
"From his lips to God's ear."
"That's amazing. No wonder he looks as good as he does, considering his 'counts' that you told me about."
"In the meanwhile, why don't you take all the pots I've got cooking on the stove and put each item in a Pyrex dish, and place all them into a warm oven. You and I can eat as soon as I can leave here. If you're hungry and think you can't wait for me, eat some of the hors d'oeuvres I made in the refrigerator."
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"All right, Mr. Baxter, in you go!" Tommy, the physical therapist, said as he helped Ted into the whirlpool. "How does it feel to get your casts off?"
"Almost orgasmic!" Ted replied.
"Now comes the tough part...teaching you how to walk all over."
"Well, if I learned once, when I was nine months old, at my age now, I should be able to conquer it again."
"I don't want you to push yourself. We'll take it one step at a time."
"You're the boss! I'll do whatever you say."
"Where's your buddy, Mr. Clayton?"
"I hope he's upstairs sleeping. At least the nurse gives me pills to help me go to sleep, but Alex, well, he's on his own. He gets less sleep than I do."
"I understand that you two are roommates back in Los Angeles."
"Not quite."
"I got the impression that you lived together."
"Well, we do, but not as roommates."
"Oh? Is one of you the landlord and the other one a tenant."
"No, no, we're a couple."
"I see."
"You know, you're the first person I ever said that to?"
"Pardon."
"About Alex and me being a couple. In my world of newspaper and television sports and locker rooms, I played it super-straight. I never dared to give anyone the tiniest hint that I had a gay lover at home...But just now, I said it! I said it out loud to you!"
"How did it feel?"
"Fantastic!"
"May I ask how long you've been together?"
"All our lives. Our parents were real close. It was almost as if we were born the same day, coming out of the same womb."
"When did you become lovers?"
"We had our first sexual experience when we were fifteen. We became lovers when we were eighteen and lived together at each other's houses on alternate weeks."
"I presume your parents know."
"Yeah, you see, my dad and Alex's dad were...well, I won't go into that. Alex's mother died when he was real young. My mother had a child when I was nineteen, a sister. Shortly...just before we moved to L.A. My parents are still happily married, living in Briarwood."
"That's where you're from, originally?"
"Yeah, Alex and me both. Alex's dad has a very successful law practice there, too."
While the two of them talked, the rushing flow of water coming from jet streams, massaged Ted's tired and weak limbs. It felt good to him, but not as much as telling his therapist about his and Alex's relationship.
"OK, I'm going to help you back into your wheelchair and I'm going to roll you over to that set of bars over there."
"Drive on, Jeeves!"
Tommy used the hydraulic lift to help Ted get out of the huge tub. Just before he sat Ted into the chair, he slipped a pair of training shorts on his lower torso. Ted noticed the way that Tommy was looking at his naked penis. The "look" gave Tommy away.
"How long have you been gay?" Ted suddenly asked him.
"What? Who said I was gay?"
"You did, just now, with your eyes."
"I guess it takes one to know one."
"I guess so." Ted said, grinning at his therapist. "So tell me about yourself."
"There's not much to tell."
"Come on, I told you my secret. The least you can do is share yours with me. Do you have a lover?"
"Had."
"Pardon?"
"HAD a lover. I've had two, to be precise."
"And?"
"I lost both of them to AIDS."
"My God, Tommy, I'm so sorry."
"Sometimes I think Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson may be right, Maybe God IS using this disease to punish us."
"That's horseshit and you know it! Is God punishing the little kids in Africa for the same reason? How about the women...mothers, housewives? How about all the nurses and hospital staff that make a foolish error by pricking themselves with a contaminated needle? Is God punishing them for doing their jobs? They didn't do anything wrong. They were careless. That's all."
"I've tried to convince myself of those facts, but when you lose, not one but TWO lovers, it makes you think differently."
He rolled Ted's wheelchair to an opening between two long rows of wooden bars.
"Now this is going to be tough at first, because of your broken arm. I don't want you to put much weight on your injured arm. Try to put all your weight on your good arm. I'm right behind you. I'll hold you up so that you don't fall and do damage to your healing legs."
Slowly, Tommy helped Ted out of the chair and assume a standing position.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Ted cried, "GOD DAMN!!!! That hurts!"
"Take a deep breath. Don't try to walk. I want your legs to get used to feeling your body weight. I'm going to put my arms around your waist, so let me hold you until you think you can stand on your own."
Ted inhaled deeply and followed Tommy's instructions. The initial pain subsided after a couple of minutes and Ted exhaled with a deep sigh.
"Good! You're doing great, Mr. Baxter."
"'Ted'...since you know all about my sex life, you may as well call me by my first name."
"All right, Ted. Now I want you to place one hand on each of the bars. Don't do anything else. I want you to get accustomed to that feeling."
"OK." Ted did as Tommy told him, and for the first time in nearly a month, he was standing upright. "How's this?" Ted asked.
"You're very strong with your muscular build. If you don't mind my saying it, Mr. Clayton is one lucky guy."
"Alex?"
"Yes. You're a very likeable guy with a good body."
"No, I'm the lucky one. Alex has always been there when I needed him. My car crash was no exception. He'd love me if I were never to take another step. I feel the same way about him."
"Then, you're BOTH lucky."
"Lucky and in love."
"After all the years you've spent together?"
"If you're not loved, you're not alive. Every day, I find something new to love about him. I've often wondered how he could love me, being gone on the trips where my job takes me. He's never complained. When I come back, he meets me at the door and makes me forget that we were ever separated for a few days or a week."
"How are you feeling now?"
"Better. Much better."
"That's good, Now I want you to try to move your right leg forward very, very slowly."
Ted obeyed.
"Now, see how much weight you can tolerate on that leg."
Ted was wobbly and felt pain in his right leg, but he had seen many guys doing the same thing after breaking a leg on the football field. Slowly he moved his leg forward about twelve inches.
"You're doing just fine. Now hold your leg there for a moment."
Beads of sweat were popping out on Ted's forehead. He waited diligently for Tommy's next command.
"Now, I want you to bear your weight on that leg and your good arm and very, very slowly move your left leg to meet your right."
Ted grunted but did as he was told until both legs were even. Through his pain, he looked up for Tommy's approval.
"Ted, you're moving wonderfully," Tommy exclaimed. "Now, if you want, we'll sit you back in the wheelchair and rest a bit. I don't want to do too much in our first session. How did it feel to take your 'first' step?"
"It hurt like shit, but I did it!"
"That you did! Congratulations! Now let me help you back into your chair. OK?"
"Hell, NO! I wanna take my second step with my other leg...and another... then another. It's a long way to the end of these bars."
"That's too much for you to tolerate on your first day. I'm pleased that you were able to take one step!"
"Come on! Let's do one more!"
"All right...ONE more. Distribute your body weight evenly on both of your legs and arms and slowly try to move your left foot forward."
Ted was more than determined. Slowly, he moved his left leg and moved his right one even with it. Tommy tried to ease Ted backward a bit, but there was no way to stop Ted. He moved his right leg forward once again.
"Hey! Hey!" Tommy cried, "you can't walk the entire length of the bars just yet."
"Let's see how far I can go."
"That's mighty risky. Your broken bones haven't healed enough to do that!"
Ted didn't stop until he had taken six more steps. Then he looked at Tommy and exhaled, "Whew!"
"Had enough?"
"I think so."
"OK, stand there while I push your chair in back of you and ease down slowly."
When Ted was seated once more, he smiled at Tommy.
"I walked, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did."
"I never had any doubt, but now I know for sure that I'm gonna be well again."
"That you are, Ted. That you are!"
Ted was achingly tired but exhilarated as Tommy rolled him back to his hospital suite.
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Dr, Mark Deemus from Mayo's Clinic flew to Briarwood as a special favor to Ed. They had attended the same seminars in Paris back in the mid-eighties when AIDS was just beginning to appear on page nineteen of most newspapers around the world. In those days AIDS and HIV was known as 'the gay disease' or to be more politically correct, 'the homosexual virus'. Dr. Deemus had ordered additional tests on Andy to confirm or deny previous findings. The nature of Andy's cancer was as flummoxing to him as it was to Ed. The major difference in Andy during his first week's stay at Cole was that the cell had doubled in size...almost too rapidly for normal cancerous growths. Usually, it took several weeks for the tissue to multiply at such a fast rate of speed. Not only had the cells enlarged in Andy's testicles, but everywhere else it had already metastasized.
Dr. Deemus suggested a round of radiation treatments to see if they could burn the damned cells out of Andy's system. Chris was more concerned that all this was happening to Andy and Andy had no idea of how serious his sickness was. So Chris decided, after discussing the situation with Ed, that it was best to tell Andy the truth...the WHOLE truth.
While Andy and Chris worked together on the meal wagons in Atlanta for nearly two years, Chris, at one time thought he might be in love with Andy but the age difference between the two made it an impossible dilemma. Andy was sixteen and Chris twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight. Had the two of them become a couple, that would have been extra fodder for the Atlanta Constitution...'Catholic Priest Confesses To Having A Teen Age Lover'. CNN would have had a field day with that headline, not to mention Fox News!
If Ed's and Mark's diagnoses concurred, Andy had only a short time to live and this was the time when Andy would need a friend most. Eight years earlier, Chris had not only been Andy's priest, but his only friend and guilt was piling up on Chris conscience for not being the friend he should be to Andy. Ed asked Chris if he wanted him to be there with him when Andy was told, but Chris took a deep breath and told Ed he would do it alone. And so around 4:30PM, Chris paid Andy a visit in his room.
"Hey, big guy!" Chris said, trying to ease any tension built up between them. "How are they treating you here at Cole?"
"The food's not bad. The TV channels are pretty good. I...I get pretty bored without you coming to see me until late at night."
"Well, Andy, I do have TWO jobs...one at the church and the second, here at the hospital."
"Do all the patients here have AIDS like I do?"
Chris realized that Andy was still under the assumption that he had HIV or full blown AIDS and no one had told him otherwise.
"Well, sport, they examined you top to bottom, inside and out, and you know what?"
"What?"
"They couldn't find one spot of the HIV virus or AIDS anywhere in your body."
"But...?"
"I know. You told me that you THOUGHT you had AIDS, but the tests came up negative. ALL of them!"
"Then that means I have to leave?"
"Not just yet..."
"But if I don't have AIDS, why should I stay?"
"The reports came back saying that you were HIV negative but there were a few reports which said there might be something else wrong with your body."
"What? SYPHILIS? GONORRHEA? Some other contagious sex disease?"
"No, no. Those are all lumped into a class we call 'STD's'...sexually transmitted diseases...and no, you don't have any of those."
"Then what?"
"Did you ever watch any sports programs on TV and see a handsome young man named Lance Armstrong?"
"Sure, he won the Tour de France more than anybody in the world."
"Yes, but in between his victories, he had to overcome an illness. Did you know about that?"
"Sure, he had cancer of the balls. I don't know for sure if he had to have them cut off...but maybe not because his voice didn't change to a soprano pitch."
"Actually, he had testicular cancer and a team of scientists went to work on him and he eventually got cured."
"Why are you telling me this, Father Chris?"
"Well..."
"Oh fuck no! Don't tell me that I've got it too!"
"You have a, how shall I put it? A rare form of the disease. It's not exactly like Lance's."
"Yeah, but can't the same scientists do for me what they did for him?"
"We don't know just yet."
"Father Chris? Are you trying to tell me that I'm gonna die?"
"Andy, you and I had a long talk about dying when we lost so many of our meal buddies to AIDS. I told you that dying is just the end of living. It's all part of life. We're all going to die. That's God's plan for all of us. We never know when...a strong young man or woman can get hit by a car suddenly and his or her life is cut short...but we have no control over death or when it's going to happen."
"Yeah, but I think you're here to tell me that I'm gonna die from this testicular cancer? Is that why you came by yourself to see me without having your lover here to chaperone us?"
"Is that what you believe? That Dr. Middleton comes with me to chaperone the two of us?"
"You never come alone. What other reason could there be?"
"Perhaps, I have been afraid. I know how much I must have hurt you leaving you so suddenly with only a letter to say goodbye. Priests are human with the same kind of conscience as their parishioners. I thought it was best that you find your own way with someone closer to your own age. I'm sorry for my quick exit from your life. I...I felt there was some other reason you came to see me in Briarwood and I didn't want to encourage you by giving you hope that we could begin again. I'm happy with Ed and I would have thought you might have found someone to love over the past decade."
"OK, I'll buy that for now...but you still didn't answer my question? Is this cancer going to kill me?"
"I'm not a doctor, but from what I've been told, it just might, Andy."
"GOOD! I'll be out of everyone's life soon!"
Chris realized that he had revealed the truth to Andy with the wrong approach and didn't know what to say next? Chris HAD to talk with Cliff or Roger to find out what to do."
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When Scott arrived home, he was surprised to find Johnny there, sitting with his new roommate. After Johnny had prepared a meal for Alan, the two of them talked some more about non-serious topics, played cards, watched TV until Scott's arrival.
"Well, hello!" Scott said, seeing Johnny.
"Hi, Scott!" Johnny replied.
"And how is my new roommate? Did you find everything you needed?"
"Yeah, sure," Alan mumbled unenthusiastically.
Once again, Scott tried to get Alan to acknowledge him. "Did you have a nice dinner at Father Jeff's?"
"I didn't go."
Scott looked at Johnny to get a clue about what, if anything, had happened. "Oh, I see," Scott said. "Did you find food to eat in the fridge?"
"I did," Johnny replied, "I found a bunch of your leftovers and heated them for Alan."
"That's good. I'm glad to see good food not go to waste."
"Did you have dinner, Scott?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah, I grilled me a couple of Polish sausages, put them between slices of rye bread, and smothered them with hot mustard.
"Yuch!" Alan muttered under his breath.
"Did you find enough to feed yourself, too, Johnny?"
"No, I called Jeff and told him to keep everything warm and I'd eat with him when I got home. Which, I guess, is my way of saying, now that you're home, it's time for me to go." Johnny said, rising, and heading toward the door.
"Let me walk you to your car," Scott offered.
"Thanks," Johnny turned and looked at Alan. "You gonna be all right?"
"Sure, just ducky."
"And I can expect to see you at the center early tomorrow morning."
"I said so, didn't I?"
"Great! See you then!" Johnny left, accompanied by Scott.
"Is he OK?" Scott asked, once he and Johnny were outside.
"I think so. But you're gonna have your hands full with that one."
"I suspected as much."
Johnny paused by his car for a few minutes to tell Scott how he had found Alan, sitting in the dark, and he explained why Alan hadn't gone to dinner at his and Jeff's house.
When Johnny had finished with the details of the evening, Scott asked, "Do you think he's suicidal?"
"I thought maybe so at first, but as the evening progressed, he calmed down quite a bit. I'm telling you as I told him, if you find out that you two can't live together compatibly, I'll make other living arrangements for Alan."
"Give me a chance before you do that. Let me see how we get along, once we're alone together."
"Thanks, Scott."
"No, thank you, Johnny."
"I'm sorry we haven't got to know one another yet."
"We will in good time."
"Gotcha! Well, good night." Johnny said, starting his car.
"Good night, and say 'hello' to your partner-in-crime for me."
"We'll probably see you at the Puff this weekend!"
"Gonna round up some sinners Saturday night for Sunday mass?"
"Something like that." Johnny drove away and Scott went back in the house into the living room to try to strike up some simulation of a conversation with Alan, who was watching the late news on TV.
"Did you make your bed yet?"
"Johnny did."
"Did you try it out? I mean, is it comfortable enough to suit you?"
"No, but it should be OK, It's brand new, isn't it?"
"Fresh out of the wrappers."
The two of them watched the weather coming from the Montpelier telecast.
"Would you care for a drink or something? Juice? Milk? Coke?"
"No, thanks."
"Just let me know if you need anything at the store and I can pick it up on my way home from the bar. The number of the Puff is programmed in the phone, just hit "6" and I'll answer."
"I'll try to remember."
Alan's lackadaisical attitude was getting the best of Scott. Scott was Italian and not used to people not talking to him. If he could get Alan angry, at least that would be a way of conversing, not a good one, but conversing all the same.
"You wanna watch the sports news?"
"I hate sports."
"Then would you mind if I turned the TV off and we get to know each other a little better?"
"I thought we said all we had to say to one another down at the bar this afternoon."
"That was just a toe in the water. We don't really know anything about each other."
"Whaddya want to know?"
Scott took the chance to turn off the TV, "Things...just things! You know, how late do you like to sleep? What do you eat for breakfast? What day do we put out the garbage for pickup? Hell, I don't know...just THINGS!"
"Booorrrriiinnnnggg!!!"
"Tell me something about your parents. Tell me about your last boy or girlfriend. That'll do for starters!"
"OK. I hate my father and I'd hate my mother if she had sense enough to know I was hating her. I've never had a girlfriend OR a boyfriend, which means I didn't go to my high school prom. So, what else do you want to know?"
"Well, you could ask me things about my family and my boyfriends. At least that way, we'd be talking."
"I don't want to know about your parents and I could care less about your innumerable boyfriends. So there! Next topic?"
"Where do you get off? I mean, where are you going with that attitude? You think you're the only one who's sick? I should've died months ago. I don't know why, but I'm still here!"
"Well, bully for you!"
"Come on, Alan, can't you make an attempt to be friends?"
"Why? So I can grieve for you when you die or vice versa?"
"I know how you feel. I've been there...where you are now."
"It's miserable, isn't it?"
"It used to be, until I met a bunch of guys at the bar. We're all in the same boat, here in Mackintosh. We're sorta drifting until the next one of us falls off into the briny. But in the meantime, we can help each other row."
"Toot! Toot!" Alan replied.
Scott moved to the couch to sit beside Alan and took his hand.
"Look, pal, I know you're scared and I know you're lonely. But you aren't dead yet! You might have years to live and you can't live them by yourself. You're gonna need someone to be there for you. You're gonna want someone to take care of you when the time comes. Yeah, you're gonna need someone to wipe your ass when you're too weak to do it yourself. You're gonna need someone to talk to. Someone to hold you when you're scared at night. I don't know if I'll be that 'someone', but you're gonna need somebody, even if it's not me."
As Scott talked, he felt a slight tremble in Alan's hand. Then a tear formed in the corner of Alan's eye, followed by another until they were streaking his cheeks. Something that Scott had said struck a nerve in Alan's psyche. Alan could no longer resist listening to what Scott was saying. Scott was revealing every emotion, every fear that Alan was hiding. His words were painfully true.
"Did I get through to you at all?", Scott said quietly.
Alan nodded without saying a word.
"Alan, tell me what I can do to help you? No man's an island, as they say, and I need to know what you want."
Alan stared straight ahead at the empty TV screen and slowly replied, "This afternoon when I met you, I didn't like you. I still don't! What you just said made me angry. Dammit! Don't you think I know I need someone? Fuck! I've needed someone all my life...BEFORE I got sick...and now that I am sick...why should I make friends with anyone in Mackintosh when we both know that one is gonna die soon and the other will have to live sadder and more depressed than before we became friends?"
"Alan, it's like you're trying to get from 'A' to 'D' and forgetting about 'B' and 'C'! Who knows, you might have weeks, months, even years together with someone. You can't sit around waiting to die or watching someone else die. There's a lot of living to do first."
"When did you become Socrates?"
"He was my great-great uncle on my mother's side. I never met him, but the family passed down a lot of the things he said." Scott joked easily.
It worked, because Alan suddenly smiled.
"You ready to tell me what you want?" Scott pressed.
"Scott...what you said was true. I DO need someone. Night after night, I lie in bed alone, and wish for someone to hold me."
There was a pause before Scott said tenderly, "Would you like me to hold you?"
Alan sat silently without responding to Scott's offer.
"I will, if you want me to."
Alan reached for Scott with an explosive emotion and put his arms around Scott's neck.
"Hold me...PLEASE...just hold me!" Alan said through his tears. "Make it all go away! Make me well! Tell me I'm not going to die! Make me feel safe!"
Scott put his arms around Alan and drew him close to his chest, while Alan sobbed uncontrollably on his shoulder. Scott stroked the back of Alan's head, smoothing the brittle locks.
"I got you, baby. Let it go. Let it all out...every pent-up feeling and emotion in your body! Let 'em all out!"
Minutes passed while they embraced. All the months of hate and fear that Alan had suppressed were being released in Scott's arms. There was still an uneasy feeling he couldn't rid himself of yet, but for the first time that he could remember, Alan felt safe.
Scott dared not make a move that would indicate anything else would happen between them, He was glad that Alan had trusted him enough to open up emotionally to him. Scott remembered an almost identical episode he had experienced with his former lover, now gone forever. He surmised that Alan was feeling the same things he had when he stopped denying his illness and was helped by his partner to accept it. Scott was physically tired from pulling a long shift at the bar, but he was willing to stay up all night or for as long as Alan wanted to hold on to him.
Neither of them was aware how long they maintained the pose. A viewer might have been struck by the resemblance to Michelangelo's sculpture of the Pieta. Reality faded back in as Alan's sobbing subsided. The room was completely still while silence smothered the room. Alan was a bit embarrassed by his action, almost afraid to look into Scott's eyes. Scott placed his curved forefinger under Alan's chin and slowly lifted Alan's face so that it was only inches away from his own. He took his thumb and gently wiped the tears from Alan's face. Alan's eyelids remained closed and, cautiously, Scott leaned forward to tenderly kiss them one at a time.
"Feel better?" Scott whispered.
"Yeah," Alan replied, opening his eyes to look directly into Scott's. "Yeah, I do."
"I'm glad."
"Me, too."
"Feel a bit less lonely?"
"Yeah."
"I want you to know one thing. If you decide to live here and become my roommate, as long as I'm here, I'll be here for you. Alan, do you see why it's so important to have a friend?"
"Uh huh. Scott, it wasn't you. I really have nothing against you personally. It's just I never had a friend. I don't know how to BE a friend to anyone, either."
"I...uh...hope you didn't get the wrong impression just now when I kissed your eyelids. I wasn't coming on to you."
"I know that. It felt nice. I think I was about four or five years old the last time my mother did that to me when I was going to sleep. She used to do things like that until I started grammar school. Then, for no reason at all. she stopped tucking me into bed at night. I can't recall her ever hugging me or kissing me after that."
"You've missed a lot, haven't you, little guy?"
"I guess. If you don't have something to start with, you don't really miss it, do you? I used to wish she would hold me. The older I grew, even into my teens, I wanted SOMEONE to hold me....ANYONE. Every time I found someone I wanted to be friends with, I was always too shy to make the first move."
"That's all in the past. Anytime you want to be held, my arms will be wide open for you."
Without giving it a second thought, Alan stretched his head so that his lips would meet Scott's and he kissed him delicately. Scott remained in control of his own emotions. He would let Alan call the shots and proceed as far as he wanted.
When Alan pulled his lips away, he softly said, "Was that all right. I mean, it didn't make you mad?"
"No, little guy, I felt honored. Maybe you felt I needed to be kissed and that was your way of making me feel better."
"I'm not very experienced when it comes to kissing...or lovemaking, for that matter. Oh, I've had my share of sex...with much older men, but that's all it was...sex. I liked the attention I was getting. I liked it when they held me, but they were always quickly heading toward my zipper. They didn't go slowly and take the time to love me a little. I took what I could get from them, but that wasn't much."
"Would you let me return the kiss?" Scott asked softly.
"Sure," Alan whispered as he closed his eyes.
Scott moved his face next to Alan's and kissed him, a bit harder and longer than Alan had kissed him. Scott was surprised when he felt the tip of Alan's tongue trying to pry his lips apart. He opened his mouth slightly and received the young tongue, meeting it with his own. The two of them exhaled deeply at the same time. Their heads turned slowly as the kiss grew more passionate.
Alan's bravery emerged as he placed his arms around Scott and embraced him with a restrained, but turbulent, force. Scott responded in a similar fashion, equaling Alan's actions, but going no further. Scott could feel Alan's years of loneliness by his embrace. Alan's mouth and arms were hungry for his misspent need for affection. Scott felt as if he were taking Alan's virginity, not sexually, but emotionally. Neither of them made a move to touch the other's private parts. That was secondary at this moment.
"I think we'd better stop." Scott said, finally.
"Perhaps you're right." Alan added.
"Would you like me to fix you something to eat or drink?"
"No, thanks, Scott, I've had a pretty tiresome day. I think I'd like to go to bed."
"All right, but if you find you need anything...you know, towels, washcloths, toothpaste...just let me know."
Alan rose, started toward his bedroom and turned, "Scott, there IS one thing."
"Name it, buddy."
"Would you think it childish if I were to ask you to tuck me in?"
A wave of surprised emotion swept over Scott. Underneath Alan's belligerent facade hid a little boy in search of long-neglected love and attention. Alan reminded Scott of his younger brother who had died in a hiking accident when he was only fifteen. Scott had almost forgotten what it felt like to be needed in this way. He welcomed Alan's new dependence on him.
"Not childish at all. Sure, I will." Scott answered with a lump in his throat. "Why don't you go get undressed, put your pajamas on, or whatever you wear when you're sleeping, and I'll be in there in a few minutes."
"I sleep in the nude," Alan replied. "I hope it doesn't bother you."
"Oh, no. That's the way I sleep, too. Go on and undress and crawl beneath your sheet. OK?"
Alan gave Scott a warm smile before exiting into the bedroom. Scott went through the rest of the house, making sure that the stove, appliances, and the remaining lights in the house were turned off. He took time to turn on his bedside lamp before going into Alan's room.
"You want the windows open or shut?"
"Open, please."
"The curtains? Open or closed?"
"Open. I want to look at the stars before the dawn fades them away."
Alan was in bed under a sheet and light blanket.
"Mattress feel OK?"
"Yeah, it's fine."
Scott walked to the bed for the anticipated moment. He grabbed the sheet and blanket and pulled them close to Alan's chin. Then he leaned down to kiss Alan's forehead. Alan pulled his arm from beneath the covers and grabbed Scott's hand, indicating he wanted Scott to sit on the side of his bed.
"Anything else I can do for you?"
"Maybe, but I'm too embarrassed to ask."
"I told you...ANYTHING you want...just ask. There's nothing you could say that would embarrass me."
"OK, but first, turn out the light. I don't want you to see me while I ask."
Scott went along with the game and clicked the switch on the lamp. The room was dark except for the moonlight spilling across the room.
"OK, what is it?"
"Would...would you...would you mind sleeping with me?"
"Is that really what you want?"
"Uh huh. I'm not asking you for sex, I would just like you to hold me."
"I don't mind. However, I wish I had known and I would've showered. I've worked all day and I may smell a bit rank."
"No, don't shower! I want to smell the REAL you."
"Don't you think I should keep my boxers on, at least?"
"Not unless you think you can't handle it."
"I'm always in complete control of myself."
"Then there's nothing to worry about, is there?"
"I guess not."
Scott stood and removed all his clothing. Then Alan threw back the covers to welcome him. Scott slowly slid between the cool new sheets until the flesh of his body met Alan's. Alan turned to him and let their two bodies mesh together. Nature took its course and the two of them had erections, but neither of them paid any attention to them. There was no need for condoms as neither of them had any intention of going further. Scott closed his arms around the young boy and held him for nearly an hour, before Alan fell into a deep sleep. Alan felt secure for the first time in years, while Scott experienced a happiness he had long forgotten. They slept in the same position all night long.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to sit in your chair
And ruin your sleep
And make you aware of being alive.
Someone to need you too much,
Someone to know you too well,
Someone to pull you up short
And put you through hell
And give you support for being alive - being alive.
Make me alive, make me confused--
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone, not alive.
Somebody hold me too close,
Somebody force me to care,
Somebody make me come through,
I'll always be there,
As frightened as you of being alive.
Being alive, being alive.
Someone you have to let in,
Someone whose feelings you spare,
Someone who, like it or not,
Will want you to share a little,
a lot of being alive.
Make me alive, make me confused
Mock me with praise, let me be used
Vary my days, but alone is alone, not alive.
Somebody crowd me with love.
Somebody force me to care.
Somebody make me come through,
I'll always be there
As frightened as you of being alive
Being alive, being alive.
Originally from the 1970 Broadway musical, "Company"
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
(To be continued in "Briarwood"---BOOK FIVE--chapter-fifty-one.)