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.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"BRIARWOOD"
Copyright Ritchris, 2005
aka "Whence Cometh My Help"
Copyright Ritchris, 2003
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
<><><><><>
BOOK SIX
"BRIARWOOD U"
Chapter-Sixty-two
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Buzz Craven, Bobby Frazier, and Randy Webb were the first team members to arrive for practice as usual. Others were straggling in, still talking about the victory party at the pizza parlor. The room was buzzing with low-toned rumors, buzzing like drones in a hive. Harm hadn't been seen for two--no, almost three days. Coach Kerr's wife had been in a serious car wreck and the whole team knew that Coach would be spending most of his time at the hospital at her bedside. Only a few nights ago, with the help of Tom Summerfield, the whole team became heroes. But now, who knew what was going on? The members all had faith in Coaches Dan Mansfield and Buddy Waters, Coach Kerr's assistants, but there was just something about Coach Kerr 'being there' that made a multitude of differences.
Dan and Buddy came into the locker room together. Coach Buddy was carrying the huge black play book. It was funny how those plays that had never worked before during a game, became master schemes of action, IF you had a good quarterback and Tom had been like a present sent down from heaven in a chariot of the gods. Tom, Phil, and Howie entered and got an abundance of cheers, whistles, and applause, as if they were the three Musketeers, having saved King Louis XIII's throne.
"Please, please," Howie waved his hand as his team mates, "no hero-worshiping! I hate to get on my knees and grovel, especially around a bunch of horny studs who were too drunk to get laid after the victory party!"
"Who didn't get laid?" Buzz shouted at him.
"You, you dumb cluck! You couldn't get laid in a chicken coop with four-hundred setting hens and no roosters!"
"I didn't see you leave with no date, asshole, unless you count Phil!" Buzz sneered.
"You didn't see that limo with Katie Holmes and Cameron Diaz waiting for us in the parking lot?"
"You mean the girls were subbing for Tom Cruise and Justin Timberlake?" Buzz retorted.
"Oh, they were there too--they were looking for you, Buzz, and you too, Bobby!"
"Shit!" Bobby chimed in, "I wouldn't take Tom's and Justin's sloppy seconds after they'd both fucked you in the ass."
This remark brought cheers, jeers, and wolf whistles from the team.
"All right, guys," Buddy said, interrupting the fun, "let's settle down. We have a lot to do, but first we have a few things to talk about. First, have any of you seen Harm or do you know his whereabouts?"
There were replies of "no" from the most of the team members, while others shook their heads.
It was 3:40, ten minutes after the scheduled practice and Phil looked around the room, only to discover that Wylie was missing. He SAID he would be on time--it wasn't like him to arrive late.
"Hey, Coach?" Phil called to Buddy. "Did Wylie call and say he was gonna be late?"
"No, did he call you, Dan?"
"Nope."
"Well, this is just fucking great!" Buddy said, "We got TWO players missing! Does anyone know where Wylie is?"
"No," Randy replied. "I got two classes with him Mondays and he was absent from both of them today."
Phil gave Howie and Tom a concerned look. Had they gone too far and told him too much at Coach Kerr's this morning? Had the 'gay' revelations been too much for him to digest?
"Coach, let me go call his mother and see if he's at home or maybe Mrs. Hammersmith knows where he is." Phil said.
"Good idea, Phil," Dan replied, "use the phone in my office."
Phil went into the assistant coaches' office while Buddy and Dan answered as many questions as they could from the team concerning Mrs. Kerr's accident. They all agreed that they should pitch in and buy her a huge bouquet and a basket of fruit. Gary Cummings, a tackle, wanted everyone to sign the Wakefield game ball and give it to her.
Mrs. Hammersmith was concerned, but not alarmed when Phil called her. She suggested that Wylie might have come home, showered, and left for class while she, herself, was out doing her morning jog. That was part of the deal with Wylie, if he was going to jog and stay in shape, she had to do likewise. Wylie had lost his father to a heart attack by being obese and not staying in good physical shape, and he'd be damned if he'd lose his mother the same way! It was only when Phil told her that Bobby had not seem Wylie in their two classes that Mrs. Hammersmith felt a tinge of worry.
"He cut both classes?" she asked.
"That's what Bobby Frazier told Coach Waters," Phil answered.
"What should I do, Phil? Call the police?--or campus security?"
"I don't know, Mrs. 'Ham'. Maybe it's too soon to call the police, but it might be a good idea to call 'CS'. I mean, all the security guys come to the games and they KNOW Wylie. Maybe one of them saw him around the campus some time today. If you find out anything, 'yay' or 'nay', call me back here at the locker room office. Just call BU switchboard and have them connect you with extension #995."
"I'll do that right now, Phil, and thanks for calling."
"Sure thing, Mrs. 'Ham'. I'll wait here for your call."
Phil both hung up the receiver and went back into the locker room and, after reporting report his findings to Coach Waters, he went to Howie and whispered the news. Buddy Waters walked over to his fellow coach and the two of them engaged in a private conversation out of the team's ears' reach, then Dan turned back to his players.
"Guys," Dan Mansfield said, "Coach Waters and I have just had a quick meeting and here's what we're gonna do. First of all, there's no reason to be alarmed, but Wylie's mother doesn't know of his whereabouts, so what we're suggesting is today's practice will be short. In fact, due to our win this last weekend, we won't go over the plays as usual. The new things we want to try--well, we'll get to those tomorrow. I want you to take ten laps around the track, give me fifty pushups and fifty sit-ups. That's all the physical work for today. When you've finished that, I want you to join up with a partner...one of you MUST have a car, and then I want you to spend the next three hours, the time allotted for team practice--and drive around town to every spot you can think of where Wylie might be. If, on your way, you should happen to see Harm...well, I don't know why Harm is absent either. but there is a chance he's worried about something. DON'T upset him. One of you be friendly with him while the other goes to a phone and calls me here in the coaches' office."
The team looked at each other filled with confusion and hundreds of unanswered questions arose in their minds.
It was Eric Martin who was brave (or stupid) enough to raise his hand to ask what everyone else was thinking.
"Coach", Eric began quietly, "there's all kinds of rumors all over the campus about Harm having something to do with Sandy's death. Is there any truth to that?"
"Truth?" Dan replied, "No, there's no truth or proof. This is still America, we don't even accuse without a shred of evidence."
"But suppose it IS true?" Eric continued, "Do you think he's gone off the deep end or something and we should consider him dangerous?"
"Eric, it's always wise to be cautious, but remember, this is Harm we're talking about! You remember? Your buddy? Your team mate? One of the guys who helped us win the game Friday? I can't believe that Harm has turned into Mr. Hyde in a couple of days. It's possible something has made him angry. Didn't you ever get mad at someone or something and the next person you encountered got the brunt of your anger?"
"Yeah."
"Well, let's just say, if HARM is angry, don't annihilate him, just stay cool." Dan stopped and got eye contact with Buddy before continuing. "Look guys, I won't lie to you. The Briarwood police are looking for Harm, not to arrest him, but to question him about some events that have taken place around the campus the past few days. As I said before and I will stress again, we don't know that Harm is guilty of anything, we just want to find him, but the first order of the day is to find Wylie. Is that clear?"
Tom saw the reasoning in Coach Mansfield's comments. He knew that Harm was guilty. Tom had been with Harm and Sandy when she hit her head, To him, it was still an accident. What Harm had said to Tom concerning Ray could've been just Harm talking or bragging. There was no sense in adding fuel to the fire by starting more alarming unfounded rumors. Tom knew that both Phil and Howie knew everything that he knew, but they would maintain silence until the total truth was revealed. The three of them were more concerned about Wylie's disappearance than Harm's at the moment.
"Coach," Phil spoke up, "I know you said to divide up into groups of twos, but since neither Howie nor Tom have cars, can the three of us go together?"
"I suppose, but that means you three have got to cover twice as much ground. Agreed?"
"Yes sir."
The squad moved out to the field to complete their laps and calisthenics so as to begin their search.
An half hour later, Tom, Howie, and Phil sped off in Phil's car to look only God knows where for Wylie. All three had the same thoughts.
"You think homophobia got the best of Wylie this morning?" Howie asked.
"I don't think so, Howie," Tom replied. "Of course, you two know him better than I, but he seemed to adjust--he was all right when we hugged at Coach Kerr's. Did either of you feel that it was just a big front he was putting on?"
"Nah, I think he was hurt more than upset, Tom," Phil replied. "It's so funny, Howie and I have wanted to tell him about us for a long time. Sometimes, like when we fooled around in a shower circle jerk, Howie and I felt like he might be latent, at least. He never made no bones about touching another guy's boner!"
"Hell, I touched my first one when I was thirteen," Howie said, "I think all guys do when they're twelve, thirteen, or fourteen. After that, it can get pretty serious."
Tom laughed, "I guess all kids are the same. The first time they reach an orgasm at home alone, they think they've discovered something no one ever knew about before. It's something that induces their own private dream world. Then around age fourteen, every boy makes a best friend, bonds with him, and both of them want to somehow reveal their secret knowledge of their seven seconds of ecstasy. That's how long the average orgasm lasts for a male...seven seconds. Fuck! A woman can have seven in a row in seven minutes but dammit, a guy's just not built that way."
"You're right, Tom," Phil said. "There's not a kid in the world that doesn't wonder what his best friend's cock looks like, no matter how straight he is. He wonders if his best friend knows how to jerk off and plots some way to find out...and if the friend DOESN'T know, surely there must be some way of teaching him."
"Yeah," Tom jumped back in the conversation, "then, there's that first sleepover with your best friend, at his house or yours...which ever is the most private, and the two of them play games of being tired, finding some reason to go to bed early. Each of them with the same private thoughts and motivation, plotting against the other. Then, somehow, after the lights are out, neither of them can go to sleep. Their dicks are so hard, it would take thorazine to get either of them to relax."
"Yeah," Howie joined in, "and they fake having to pee about a dozen times until one, accidentally on purpose, gets out of the 'take your turn' routine and one walks in on the other pissing at the toilet...and in that instant, each of them sees the other's sacred jewels for the first time and both become impressed with what they see. Five minutes later, they've talked themselves into touching one another's dick and they both go back to bed."
"Yes," Phil added, "and before morning, they've not only jacked each other off, they've had a dick in their mouths for the first, and maybe, the only time in their young lives."
"That's true." Tom said, "and they think about that one time for the rest of their lives, You know, guys, if you have a friend, a best friend, you're bound to love him and if you love him, there's nothing in the world you wouldn't do for him...including sucking him off.":
That was the end of the topic and there was a moment of silence before the three of them hooted and laughed out loud.
"When and where did the three of us get so goddamned smart?" Howie joked. "The three of us ought to be teaching sex ed somewhere, in some junior high school."
"Or maybe college if there are many sexually uneducated guys like Wylie around the campus." Phil offered.
After the chuckles died down, Tom asked "Do you guys think that Wylie is virgin?"
"Well, we know for damned sure that he's never been with a guy... and all the year's we've been friends, I don't think he's ever tried it with a girl." Howie said.
"Oh?" Phil replied. "And just how many females has the great Howard Jernigan fucked in his lifetime?"
"Just one." Howie replied.
"And do you mind telling me who?" Phil inquired.
"You, you cunt!" Howie yelled in glee.
"Well, at least you got my cherry, which is more than I can say about you!"
"Shit, babe, I was fifteen when me and my cousin, Bobby, took a ride up each other's poop chute, so that doesn't really count...and it was just that one time."
"Still, your ass wasn't virgin," Phil sneered, kidding.
"You oughta be glad that Bobby and I fooled around, otherwise, neither you nor I would've known what to do."
"Hey guys," Tom interrupted, "I just had a terrible thought---what if Harm approached Wylie and tried something with him?"
"Then I'd pity Harm," Phil answered, "Harm might outweigh Wylie by thirty or so pounds, but Wylie's torso is solid muscle. He'd knock Harm into the middle of next April. I don't really worry about Wylie when it comes to defending himself from anybody."
"Unless Harm had a gun or some kind of weapon," Howie added.
"Harm doesn't need to carry a weapon, He's just a dumb jock, kinda like you, Howie, who thinks his fists are all the weapons he needs."
"You calling me a dumb jock?"
"No, I called Harm a dumb jock. I didn't call you one. I said that Harm was like you."
"Oh, well, that's different then...I accept your apology."
Howie and Phil both laughed, close-mouthed at their banter but neither would allow the other to see he was joking. Howie was by no means dumb, but he liked to act that way because it was a game that he and Phil had played from the first moment they played football together at Briarwood Jr. High, Howie pretended to be dumb, but in all probability, he was smarter and more astute than Phil, the scholar-jock.
By 7:30, the team member's search party began to straggle into the parking lot adjacent to the campus locker room, car by car, the guys walking back in, two by two. None of them had anything to report to Coaches Waters and Mansfield, The twosomes had explored every conceivable place in all of Briarwood where they suspected Wylie might be. He was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had been abducted by an alien spacecraft and whisked away to another planet. Buddy Waters had kept in contact with Mrs. Jernigan every thirty minutes. By now she was frantic. The police not only had a bolo for Harm--it had issued one for Wylie as well!
Tom asked Phil and Howie to drop him at the Cole Institute to see Jim and check on Nina while Howie and Phil went home. When he arrived at the ICU, he saw Jim there with Father Cliff.
Upon seeing Tom, Jim opened his arms to receive his young lover. Tom was a bit reticent about displaying emotional-physical contact in front of Father Cliff. Even though Cliff knew of Tom and Jim's relationship to Tom, it hadn't been mentioned openly in front of Father Cliff. Tom put his arms in front of his body slightly to block Jim's embrace. Tom ignored the halt and hugged Tom anyway.
"It's all right, Father Cliff knows."
"Give him a hug, son," Cliff said to Tom, "he needs it."
Tom gave in with Cliff's acknowledging permission and let Jim take him into his arms. Both sighed deeply from the strain that they each had been through during the day.
"How's Mrs. K?" Tom asked.
"Physically, she's much stronger. She hasn't recovered consciousness yet, though." Jim replied. "How was your day? How was practice?"
"Did Coach Waters or Coach Mansfield call you?"
"No, I haven't heard from them all day."
"Then you don't know."
"Know what?"
"About Wylie..."
"No, for God's sake, what ABOUT Wylie." Jim asked, suddenly very concerned.
"He's disappeared, Jim."
"What?" Jim turned to Cliff, "Did you hear that?"
"Wylie's disappeared, Tom?" Cliff asked.
"Yes, sir," Tom replied. "Jim, we only exercised during practice and forty of us guys went out in cars by twos and looked everywhere for him."
"Jesus!" Jim said, shaking his head. "What next? Any sign of Harm all day?"
"No. we were looking for him at the same time we were looking for Wylie."
"Do the police know?" Cliff asked.
"Yes, sir. Half the force is out looking for Wylie and Harm both. Wylie's mother is scared shitless! Excuse me, Father."
"'Shitless' seems appropriate, Tom," Cliff said.
"Cliff," Tom began, "too many things are happening and I can't help but believe that they're all connected somehow."
"I'm sorry to have to agree with you, Jim, but I feel you may be right." Cliff concluded.
"Have you eaten, Tom?"
"Nothing since breakfast. I'm afraid Phil, Howie, and I left your kitchen in somewhat of a mess."
"Forget about the mess! Didn't Wylie stay and eat with you?"
"No, Phil and Wylie had sort of an incident and Wylie left before we cooked breakfast. That's the last time any of us saw him."
"What sort of incident?"
"It's a long story," Tom said, "Can we go somewhere private, Jim, maybe into the visitors' lounge where I can tell you about it?"
"Cliff and I were about to go have dinner. Why don't the three of us go somewhere and you tell us everything?"
"Sounds like a good idea, guys," Cliff said. "We can go down to Capinetti's Italian Restaurant where it's dark and secluded. It'll be a good place for the three of us to talk. I'll call Roger and tell him I'll be late coming home. Of course, Roger's used to that by now."
"'Roger'? That's Roger Cole whom this Institute is named after?" Tom asked, a bit astonished at Father Cliff's openness.
"One and the same," Cliff replied.
"And he's your...?"
"My other half?" Cliff finished Tom's question. "Yes, until one of us dies or commits the other to an old folks' home or a mental institution, whichever is needed first."
"But...?"
Jim interjected, "I'll bet you didn't know that Father Cliff's last name is 'Cole' also?"
"You're...you're not brothers, are you?"
"Brothers in Christ, but lovers in the bedroom. No, Tom, it's a long story but when Roger and I decided we were going to be together for life, I had my surname legally changed to Roger's."
"So you own half of the Institute?"
"I wouldn't put it that way. Everything Roger and I have is together in every way."
"God, I feel so damned dumb. When I arrived at Briarwood, I was so afraid of the residents finding out I was gay...but now, I'm beginning to believe ALL the residents of Briarwood are gay!"
"Come on, Mr. Touchdown, we can spend the next few hours answering each others' questions over a ton of pasta dishes." Cliff said.
Luckily, it was Monday night and the restaurant was not crowded at 8;45 when the three of them arrived. They took a corner booth in the far end of the ristorante. They ordered dinner and a bottle of imported red wine.
The first part of their conversation consisted of telling Tom about Nina, her progress and her present condition. Then it was Tom's turn to relate the incident with Wylie in Jim's kitchen earlier that morning. When Tom had finished his story, the three of them sat in silence, each pondering his own thoughts, as all three were thinking the same things..."Harm?...Sandy?; Harm?...Ray?; Harm?...Nina?; and finally Harm?...Wylie??".
When their entrées arrived, they took time out to eat before pursuing their billowing ideas and fears.
"Cliff, can I ask you a personal question?" Jim said after the dishes had been cleared.
"When have I ever refused to answer you, Jim?"
"Something I've always wondered, as half the town has, I guess."
"Oh?"
"Was Roger born into wealth or did he earn it...like on the stock market or in real estate?"
"Roger's dad was an only child as was Roger. Not even Roger knows how his grandfather made his fortune. It was supposed to go to Roger's dad when his Grandfather Cole passed away. But, fate not being fair, Roger lost both his parents shortly before his Grandfather died from a stroke. His death made Roger the sole heir of his will. I doubt if Roger knows to this day how much his grandfather left him. One of our best friends, Walter Baxter, is our attorney and he handles all of Roger's financial matters and I suppose only Walter knows how much is in the Cole coffer. When the two of us teamed up as best friends, I knew that Roger's family had more money than mine. I had to go to a state university while Roger's family sent him to an expensive private college. We both became priests about the same time.
"Then I was offered St. Genesius and Roger was rector of a church in the Midwest. We had drifted apart when we entered college. Then one day out of the blue, Roger drove up in front of the St. Genesius manse in a brand new Lexus, which I assumed was a graduation gift from his parents. It was only then that I learned that his parents were killed in an accident, his grandfather had died, and Roger had become one of the wealthiest young men on the Forbes list. I knew nothing about it for a long time because the inheritance actually embarrassed Roger. If he had followed his initial instinct, he would have given all his money to charity and lived with me, happily at the original manse in a middle class style. One by one, we started 'adopting' our Briarwood Boys...a couple of which were infected with AIDS at the time and that's what gave Roger the idea to build the Institute and try to find the cure for the HIV virus and AIDS."
"You mean he had THAT much money and didn't even know it?" Tom asked.
"The interest kept growing and he was making money faster than he could spend it. Those are things which Roger would not like me to share with anyone, but, maybe it's time a few people learned the truth and stop the rumors about where his money came from."
"That's incredible!" Tom said. "No wonder you two don't give a damn about who knows if you're gay or not. Look at how many gay guys the Institute has cured. Roger must be like Alexander the Great on a big crusade."
"I know you wouldn't be surprised to learn that Alexander is his idol."
"Can I tell you what Jim said about you?" Tom said.
"Uh oh, be careful what you say, Mr. Summerfield!" Jim said.
"I'd love to know what Jim said about me."
"He said you had this ability to know what a person's gonna say before he says it. Is that true?"
"I...I..." Cliff was speechless.
"Jim told me that you were a fucking...God! I'm sorry." Tom stopped, glancing at Cliff and turning red.
"A fucking mind reader? Is that what you were going to say?" Cliff joked.
"I guess Jim's right, You just read my mind again," Tom said.
Cliff and Jim looked at one another and laughed. Tom remained silent;
"Can you tell what I'm thinking now?" Tom asked.
"Your face says what you're thinking, Tom."
"Oh?"
"You're in love, probably for the first time in your life, and, under the present circumstance, you don't know what to do about it." Cliff replied, sipping his wine,
Tom felt 'caught' and lowered his eyes. Jim reached over and touched Tom's hand for support.
"It's all right, Tom. Cliff knows everything about our situation, so you can be open with him," Jim said,
"It's just that I can't get over being honest about being gay in front of a priest."
"Tom, you put too much emphasis on the outward aspect of religion. Yes, I'm a priest...a man of the cloth, as I'm called, but before I became a priest, I was a man first and I'm still that same man." Cliff said, reassuringly. "Back to the point, I wonder if Coach Mansfield has heard anything about Wylie or Harm?"
"If the two of you will excuse me, I'll go call him and while I'm at it, I'll go to the men's room." Tom said.
"Of course," Cliff and Jim said, simultaneously. Tom excused himself and left the table.
"He's quite a guy," Cliff said warmly to Jim.
"You still don't think he's too young?" Jim asked, almost afraid to hear Cliff's response.
"Heavens, no!" Cliff said, quickly. "He's had quite a rough life. You...or rather, I should say you and Nina...are the first emotional stability he's found in a long time. Jim, trust me. There's no doubt in my mind, or in his, that he loves you...loves you deeply...and I don't mean as a teacher, a coach, a mentor, a friend, or any of those things. He loves you as his lover."
"You don't think I'm an old fool, making a complete idiot out of myself, Cliff?"
"Jim, Jim, you're a great teacher but a terrible student. Didn't you hear anything I've been saying concerning love, age, and gender?"
"I could probably quote you, chapter and verse." Jim answered.
"Then you know how I feel...and if you're looking for my approval...well, you have that AND my blessing. I think you two were meant to be together."
"You think we stand of chance of making it last?"
"As long as it's supposed to." Cliff said, "Roger and I are the same age. When we fell in love, it was and still is, our intention to grow old together. Not a night goes pass that I don't thank God in my nightly prayers for the time we've had together. have together. And God willing, we have more years to come!"
"It just that I still don't want to hurt Nina. She and I have loved you for such a long time and you're the only person in the world who can understand the situation among the three of us without condemnation."
"And I love you and Nina, but, Jim, I'm not a Calvinist. I don't believe that every minute of every day of a person's life was predestined before his birth. Life is not a straight and narrow road, It's filled with many unexpected turns and twists, most of them unforeseeable. We never know who's going to come into our lives or who's going to leave unexpectedly. We choose our lives. God doesn't do that for us. I think He has a plan for all of us, but it's up to us to choose and decide how to steer our way through. That's why I earnestly think it was in God's plan for Tom to enter your life when he did."
"Divine intervention for a college football coach and his male quarterback?" Jim's voice was self-deprecating.
"Let's make some suppositions. If Nina's accident was 'planned', as the Presbyterians believe...and IF there had been no 'me' for you to call, who would have been here for you?"
"Probably Tom...but as a team player or as a friend...but never as a sex partner."
"Jim, God knows no barriers in sex. When a person dies and the soul leaves him...do you think there are male and female souls? Souls are souls...spirits...there is no gender in heaven. Sure, some of the angels mentioned in the Bible have masculine names...Gabriel...Michael...even Lucifer...but do you think they were actual males?"
"I'd never thought of that."
"Then if the soul is the life force in the body, why should that same living soul be any different from a soul after death? There are no boundaries where male and females are concerned. Who's to say that your soul-mate must have a vagina instead of a penis? That's what distinguishes the bodies...NOT the souls."
"And you think that God would've sent a young man to be my soul mate?"
"No one knows what God's thinking. We're supposed to accept it and go on with our lives...but when life is over and we're through with the physical structure, the body...sex ceases to be sex. We're all just 'neuter', so to speak."
"Yeah, and what about the age difference?"
"According to the Scriptures, some of the historic Jewish patriarchs were hundreds of years old before they took wives and had children. Joseph might have been fourteen and Mary, twelve or thirteen, while Elizabeth, Mary's cousin, was almost an old woman when she begat Jesus' cousin, John, the Baptist. The Bible puts no age limit on love...so why should we? Who's to say that you or Tom--God forbid--won't be killed in an accident in the next six months? Should you sacrifice what few days, what rare moments you'll have, loving one another, for fear of an age difference and that you shouldn't take advantage of every day and minute you can spend, loving each other?"
"You're saying...'Go for it'?" Jim asked, almost peacefully, hopefully.
"Well, of course, that depends on how much Tom loves you."
"With all my heart and soul," Tom said at the door, having overheard Cliff and Jim's conversation while standing in the dark, unbeknownst to the two men.
"Hi, Tom," Cliff said. "Come on back and sit down."
"I heard what you just said," Tom said. "I couldn't believe it!"
"Why?" Cliff asked.
"Well, forgive me, but Jim told me you were gay...and I didn't know if you were speaking as a gay advocate, a priest, or a friend."
"All three." Cliff said, smiling at him.
"Like I said, I've never heard a minister say things like that before." Tom replied, while Jim poured him another glass of wine.
"I can assure you, Tom, that everything I just said to Jim is the same sermon I preach from my pulpit at St. Genesius."
"Damn!" Tom exclaimed. "Just how large is your church?"
"You mean, before or after we enlarged it to accommodate all the parishioners?"
"Are they mostly gay?" Tom quizzed, very interested.
"Tom, Cliff has been Nina's and my parish priest for many years." Tom interjected.
"We have a good many gays, a good many straights, and a good many who aren't sure what they are...but they all come to church for the same reason---and to hear the same message," Cliff said, sipping his drink, "Roger, and I housed several young men...about your age...and I'm afraid they all had the same doubts about themselves that you have when they first moved in. I wish that you and Jim would come to my house and meet our little family." Cliff's quiet statement had an unspoken invitation in it.
"You know, the night I met you and Roger at the Lion's Roar, I had no idea he was THE Roger Cole and he treated me as if I were some kind of hero when I guess I should've been worshipping him as MY hero. He...and, well, both of you just seem like 'regular guys'." Tom said.
"That's all we are, Tom."
"Do you mind my asking if you're close to finding a vaccine or cure for AIDS?"
"Yes, and by God, we're going to find the cure. It's there...and we'll find it...under some beaker or on a micro-slide, or in some formula that's finding its way through our massive research computer network."
A moment of silence ensued, then Jim took Tom's hand. "Tom, will you go to mass with me next Sunday at Cliff's?"
"I'm not religious, you know that! But, of course I will."
"Hoping that all will be well with Nina by then, would the two of you come to my house for Sunday dinner after the service with Roger and me? Troy and Jay live adjacent to the big house and I'll invite Kyle and Ryan and their two newly adopted boys and you can get to know four of our 'sons' and two 'grandsons', at least."
"How many 'sons' do you have in all?" Tom asked, bright-eyed and a bit more relaxed from the wine, but still almost unbelieving of his luck at finding such men as these.
"That depends on how I count them, and on what given day. Besides the four I've mentioned, Roger and I have two in New York, both on Broadway, and four in Mackintosh, New Hampshire, and hopefully more to come!"
"How are Father Jeff and Johnny doing up there?" Jim asked.
"Well, you know that Jeff's brother, Alex and his lover, Ted, have moved up there to help Jeff and Johnny. The four of them seemed to be accomplishing miracles with the AIDS victims."
"That's wonderful!" Jim exclaimed.
"Jeff may be sending three Mackintosh residents to Briarwood to establish residence here for a short while...and, who knows, I might have three additions to our family, maybe before the week is out."
Tom's eyes had been growing bigger by the moment. "Let's see," he began, "Four and two and four, and maybe three more? That's thirteen!"
"Looks like Roger and I need one more, doesn't it?" Cliff said, "If either of us was superstitious."
"And they're---all gay? If you don't mind my saying it?" Tom added.
"It doesn't matter, Tom---we're all one family in the eyes of God."
"Damn, the more the merrier...or gayer, I guess." Tom replied.
"Jim, I hate to break up this trio but I need to go by the church and get the notes I made for Sunday's sermon before I go and see how Roger's doing finding Harm. If he's had any success I'll let you know. If you need us to stay with Nina tonight, call me at home and we'll be right over to relieve you."
"No, Cliff, I can't ask either of you to do that two nights in a row."
"We still haven't reached a decision concerning Harm if any of us see him," Cliff added. "What about you, Tom? Are you spending the night at Jim's tonight?"
"I don't want him staying there alone, Cliff," Tom replied.
"I think Jim's right, Father. If Harm is looking for me, then he'll expect me to be at Jim's, all alone while Jim is with Nina."
"Then what do you want to do, Tom? You can always stay with Roger and me. We have enough extra bedrooms to house the entire team, should it be necessary."
"I think I'll be safe at the dorm. That's the last place Harm will look for me. He thinks, wherever I am, Phil and Howie will be beside me."
"You really think that's safe, Tom?" Jim asked.
"Jim, I'm not a baby, for Christ's sake...excuse me, Father, I have just about as much muscle as Harm and, besides, if he's been in hiding and driving around all this time, he's probably too exhausted to try anything tonight, anyway."
"You're probably right." Jim agreed reluctantly, "but just in case, call me at the at the nurses desk in ICU if you need me and I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
"Here," Cliff said, reaching into his coat pocket, "take my card and call me, too. I can still land a good blow for the Lord if I have to...and as for Roger, he's mightier than any sword I've ever seen."
Tom took the card from Cliff and put it in his wallet.
"Now, where to?" Cliff asked.
"Drop Jim off at the hospital and swing around and drop me at the back entrance to the dorm." Tom said.
"Done deal." Cliff said.
Cliff paid the check and handed their waiter a sizeable tip, which surprised the young Italian. Most ministers usually stiffed waiters, thinking that they were supposed to be waited on for free because of their station.
Cliff waited inside his car while Tom walked Jim to the entrance of the hospital to say good night. Tom kissed Jim on the lips as quickly as possible and came back to get into Cliff's car. Jim watched them drive off before he entered the building to spend the night with his wife.
As Cliff pulled his car out of the Cole parking lot, he failed to notice the light blue Mustang following him about 200 yards behind.
<><><><><><><><><>
Jim got off the elevator at the sixth floor and was pleasantly surprised to see Buddy and Dan awaiting him, but at the same time, he was apprehensive, fearing that they might have bad news about Wylie or Harm. Jim greeted them briefly with individual hugs.
"Hey, guys, it's so great to see both of you," Jim said.
"Jim, we're both sorry we haven't stopped by sooner, but we were a bit hesitant about coming to the hospital. First of all, neither of us knew if we'd be allowed anywhere near Nina's room, plus the fact, we knew that you needed some time to be alone with her and we didn't want to get in the way." Dan said.
"You're both a welcome sight for tired eyes."
"How IS Nina?" Buddy asked.
"Dr. Middleton assures me that's she's gonna be fine as soon as she returns to consciousness."
"That's good news!" Buddy responded. "I know we shouldn't add a burden to you, but we thought you ought to know about what transpired at practice today."
"You mean about Wylie?"
"Yes," Phil responded. "You've already heard then?"
"Yes. Is there any news from the police or from Betty Hammersmith?"
"Nothing new to report. Wylie's still missing."
"Damn!" Jim said, "Where can that little scutter be?"
"I don't want to sound like the voice of doom, but Buddy and I, are beginning to think, 'foul play'."
"Jim, if you don't mind my asking," Buddy said, "who told you about Wylie?"
"Tom dropped by the hospital. As a matter of fact, since we couldn't do anything else for Nina, Father Cliff and I took Tom to dinner and he filled us in on today's developments."
"Where's Tom now?"
"Father Cliff brought me back to the hospital from dinner and he was going to take Tom back to the dorm."
"Jim," Dan began to speak hesitantly, "please don't get the idea that Buddy and I are poking our noses into your personal affairs, but you and Tom have become rather close in the past few days. He seems to be taking Nina's accident more seriously than the rest of the team...not that the team is unconcerned---I mean, all the guys are worried sick, but Tom appears to be taking Nina's accident closer to his heart."
Jim wasn't ready yet to reveal anything private about his and Tom's relationship to his two assistants. He chose to reply rather simply, "Tom has spent quite a few evenings with Nina and me since his arrival and the two of them have grown rather fond of each other. They've seemed to bond into a mother/son relationship."
"That's good to hear, Jim, what with so many strange things happening around campus, so quickly in the past few days...there have been a few rumors buzzing around...."
"Oh?" Jim replied, rather too innocently. "What kind of rumors?"
Neither Buddy nor Dan responded immediately.
"Come on, guys, we're friends...our wives as well as the three of us. What have you heard that I need to know about?"
Carefully choosing his words, Dan replied, "Oh, nothing that either of us believes, but word has it that you and Tom have become...rather close...well, not just close,...intimate."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, Jim," Buddy jumped in quickly, "as Dan said, neither of us believes what's being said, the two of us know you too well."
Jim sighed, his worried look almost revealing his secret, kept from his two close friends and co-workers. The expression on Jim's face prompted Buddy and Dan to look at one another with a puzzled, yet knowing look.
"Jim, don't answer if you don't wanna..." Dan said, "but...is something going on?"
"Guys, I don't know what's going on, but since we've known each other our families have always been so close, it's difficult to lie to either of you."
"Then...all or part of the rumors are true?"
"I don't know what all you've heard...but, yes, part of them is true," Jim said as he partially resigned to his personal dilemma.
"What's going on, Jim?" Dan asked. "You know you can trust either or both of us with anything you wanna tell us. We've kept secret plays in our playbook tighter than the CIA ever could...things that neither of us shares with Mabel and Becky."
Jim sat down on a nearby bench in the hospital hallway as Buddy and Dan joined him. "Dan...Buddy, something has happened that I hope and pray to God that neither of you ever have to contend with."
"What is it, Jim," Dan asked, calmly.
"Fuck, guys, I don't know how to say this. Remember, I'm taking you both into my deepest confidence and relying on our friendship that you will keep what I tell you just among the three of us."
"Jim, we've always held each other's trust. Why should we stop now, no matter what you have to say?" Dan added.
Jim waited a few moments to muster up his courage to speak, then plunged in.
"You see, guys, it all started when Tom came into our lives...mine and Nina's...yours, too. He seemed to transform our team into a winner. He seems to have a positive effect on everyone with whom he comes in contact. When he came into Nina's and my home, both of us took an instant liking to him...but for me, that 'liking' grew stronger and rather quickly, almost like dissolving an Alka-Seltzer in a glass of soda water. He brought fun and joy into Nina's and my life. It was as if the two of us finally had the son we could never have naturally. Needless to say, Nina and I have always been happy for you two, for the kids you both have, but at the same time, I would be lying if I didn't say we've both been envious. Then suddenly, out of the blue, like a gift from God, Tom came into our lives. It was like love at first sight the way Nina and I fell for him. I swear, if he had been younger and available for adoption, his name would soon have been Tom Kerr, not Tom Summerfield."
"Jim, from time to time, I'm sure that Buddy and I have both felt strong attachments for a student or a team member. That's not unusual"
"I know, Dan, but what grew among the three of us was more than just a strong attachment. Soon, my love for Tom almost became an obsession. It went beyond a father/son thing. I felt differently every time he was in my presence. I didn't want to be away from him. I invited him to spend nights at our house. Nina knew that I was growing fonder of him to the point I wanted to hold him and develop a physical bond between us."
"You mean---sexually?" Buddy asked.
"Not at first...only later. Nina was well aware of this too." Jim took another deep breath. "Finally, Nina suggested that if Tom agreed, I should sleep with him to see if this new feeling I had was real."
"Nina suggested that you sleep with Tom? She gave her approval?"
"Yes,"
"Damn!" Dan uttered, quietly. "And--you did?"
"Yes. God forgive me, but I let my physical desire for Tom get the best of my 'better judgment' and I slept with him...and we had sex."
A terrible moment of silence. "What was Nina's reaction?"
"It was crazy...insane. She approved if sleeping with Tom made me happy."
"Hell, I don't know if Becky or Mabel would have been that understanding, Jim," Dan said.
"Nor would any other wife. That's what made the situation of the triangular relationship so goddamned bizarre."
"How did Tom feel, knowing that Nina had given her approval? I assume he know how Nina felt?"
"Tom was so caught up in our whirlwind romance, he relished what was happening between the two of us. Tom has never had anyone to love him...to give him the love and attention we all seek."
"Did you have any concept where this threesome was going?" Dan asked.
"Not really. We were just taking it day by day, enjoying each moment as it happened."
"Since you're putting your cards on the table, Jim, did you ever think about leaving Nina for Tom?."
"That thought filled my mind 24/7...or at least, it did until Nina's accident."
"And now?"
"Fuck! Who knows? Somehow I believe Nina would have stayed in the background to keep our marriage going, while at the same time, she'd let me continue my relationship with Tom, indefinitely."
"I suppose you considered the repercussion at Briarwood U, if word ever got out?" Buddy said.
"Yes, and it's driving me insane. I love my job. I love Briarwood U. I love the team and I love the two of you, and Becky and Mabel, just as if we were all one family. I realized I might have to give up all my present world, my friends, and all these surroundings if Tom and I were to continue."
"Jim, how does Tom feel about all this?"
"Phil, he says he loves me."
"And---do you love him?"
"I...I don't...I...yes...yes, I love him, too."
The silence surrounding the three of them was deafening. No one knew what to say. Jim had dropped a bomb many times more powerful than Hiroshima and the aftermath was seemingly more devastating. The moment was saved by a nurse who came to see Jim.
"Mr. Kerr?"
"Yes?" Jim replied.
"One of Mrs. Kerr's physicians would like to see you in her room?"
"Is something wrong?" Jim asked, panic-stricken.
"Not at all," the nurse said, "but Mrs. Kerr has opened her eyes and she's calling for you."
"Thank God!" Jim exclaimed. He turned back to his assistant coaches.
"Go to her, Jim. She needs you." Dan said. Jim turned to leave as Dan added, "and Jim--- don't worry, your secret is safe with Buddy and me."
"Thanks, guys," Jim said as he ran down the hall to see Nina.
Both Dan and Buddy got lumps in their throats as they watched Jim enter Nina's room.
"What do you think, Buddy?" Dan asked.
"I don't know, Dan, What the fuck am I SUPPOSED to think?"
Hours earlier, when Phil and Howie dropped Tom at the hospital, their intention was to go home and eat, as both were famished following the futile search for Wylie.
"Whacha wanna do?" Howie asked Phil.
"I wanna go eat! What do you want to do?"
"I'm fuckin' hungry too, dude, but I'm afraid this is one time when my dick-appetite takes precedence over my belly-appetite!" Howie said, rubbing the crotch of his jeans.
"Whaddya mean?"
"I'm saying that today and everything that happened has made me tense as a June bug in a Raid factory. I need to get off...maybe a couple of times, just to relax."
"You wanna go to your house?"
"X-nay! Mom has about 40 women from the church coming by to plan their annual Thanksgiving baskets for the poor. What about your house?"
"Dead there, too, My brother, Grant, is coming over for dinner, bringing his wife and five brats. The kids are all over the house when they're there. Once, I locked my room to keep 'em out and damned if the two oldest ones got the hamper out of the bathroom and rammed my door. They fuckin' broke the hinges. So I can't imagine us having any privacy there tonight."
"Maybe we oughta tie the little fuckers up and teach 'em a lesson. We could yank down their pants and pour wintergreen all over their balls like we do with the freshmen who join the team."
"Shit, that wouldn't work. They're so fuckin' rowdy, they'd probably love it and beg for more."
"Where can we go then?" Howie asked.
"Some place where it's warm. It's supposed to get real cold tonight."
"I can feel it. My balls are shriveled up to nothin'."
"Turn up the heater, fool!" Phil said, "How can your balls be cold and you be horny at the same time?"
"Phil, we've had enough sex together that you ought to know that I can jerk off in a blizzard and melt a pile of snow."
"I guess you can. You sure shoot a lot when you cum. I should know. It's a wonder I haven't strangled on several occasions. That's why I try to keep you drained as much as possible. It makes it easier on me when I go down on you."
"I could always fuck you."
"Yeah, and it would still lodge in my throat!", he giggled.
"I got an idea." Howie said. "Why don't we stop at the Krystal and get a couple of dozen hamburgers, some fries, some chili, a couple of big drinks and drive out by the pond where we used to go when we were kids and we couldn't find anywhere else to go to get off."
"It's freezing, Howie."
"Yeah, but the heater works fine, and it won't take long, not the way I feel."
"Unless two times isn't enough to relax you."
"You know that good sex always warms up your blood. We won't even feel the cold after the first time."
"OK, but no kissing," Phil said, "I don't like to kiss you when you've eaten onions."
"You're gonna eat 'em too! What difference does it make?"
"Because onions make you fart, too."
"Hell, it'll take hours for the onions to reach that far down in my system."
"As long as you know that I warned you. There's nothing more UNromantic than having my head buried in your pubes when you cut a big one."
"When the fuck did I ever do that?"
"The last time the paramedics came to give me CPR and oxygen." Phil joked.
"You asshole! I thought you were being serious. I love you too much to fart in your face."
"That's never stopped you when the windows are rolled up in your truck. You always fart, but never once have you followed it by saying, 'I only farted because I love you.'"
"Will you shut the fuck up? We're both hungry and want to eat and I want to make love to you, maybe not in that order, but..."
"OK, let's go to the Krystal and then down to our private place near the pond."
"Now you're talkin'!"
"I DO love you, you know." Phil said,
"Yes, I know...and I love you, too," Howie replied.
. "But that doesn't mean I'm giving my permission for you to fart!" Phil nearly shouted, punching Howie in the gut.
They laughed.
"Hey, what about Tom?" Howie asked, changing the subject. "Do you think we ought to stay with him tonight?"
"He'll probably spend the night with Coach Kerr," Harm replied. "The two of them will work something out. Otherwise, I'm sure one of 'em will call us before bedtime."
"Phil, what do you think is gonna happen between them?" Howie's concern showed in his voice.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Coach Kerr, Tom....and Mrs. Kerr's accident?"
"I don't know, babe, but I think about it a lot."
"Me, too. I feel kinda sorry for both of them...especially Tom."
"Oh? Why Tom?"
"I mean, after everything has settled down and Mrs. Kerr gets back to normal and goes home, Coach Kerr will still have her and Tom will be all alone again...left out in the cold with no one."
"That's the same thing I've been thinking, Howie. I just didn't say it out loud."
"OK, the Krystal's coming up on the right! You got money, right?"
"Sure, unless you want to buy the place out with two or three dozen hamburgers."
"They're LITTLE burgers, dude. It takes a lot of 'em to make a meal."
"You think twenty bucks is enough to fill you up? That's all I have."
"I just won't order dessert. You'll be my dessert."
"The way you were talking before, I'd thought I was gonna be the main entrée,"
"Whichever comes first!" Howie said.
"You mean, WHOEVER cums first, don't you?"
"Whatever!"
Howie pulled his truck into Krystal's parking lot and the two of them went inside, teammates, friends, and lovers.
It WAS cold for the first week in November. But there was no snow in the Briarwood forecast. The brilliantly colored autumn leaves had fallen weeks ago and now the trees were bare, waiting for winter. The game this Friday night would be brutal. No matter how many pads or layers of thermal underwear a player wore, the first hit on bare knuckles, a face, or any other exposed body part felt twice as bad in a freezing temperature. Quite often, the team members would video tape other games broadcast on Friday nights or Saturday afternoons and somehow it didn't seem fair to watch the Miami Hurricanes, playing in short-sleeve jerseys and having huge fans blowing over mounds of ice to keep them cool, while most of the rest of the teams across the country were tackling and hitting in ice and snow.
Howie settled for eighteen Krystals to share with Phil, but two large fries, and two large chilies, and for some stupid reason, out of habit, two large frosty shakes, instead of thermoses of coffee or hot chocolate. They got their order and made a mad dash to the truck to restart the heater. They drove past the Briarwood city limit sign to the old familiar dirt road. There were intermittent patches of ice on the road, ice which had already formed early in the evening. The truck was equipped with Michelin's finest snow tires, so that was no concern for the happy, but tired, twosome. Phil had reached into the large Krystal bag for a handful of French fries and was feeding them one by one to Howie as he drove. The thin-sliced potatoes were piping hot and each could feel their body temperature rise,
They were less than twenty feet from their appointed destination when Howie noticed a strange object in the road.
"What the fuck is that?" Howie exclaimed.
"Where?"
"There, asshole, in the road---right in front of us."
"It looks like..."
"What?"
"It looks like a naked body."
"You're shitting me."
"Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick!!! Stop the truck, Howie," Phil yelled as he barged out the passenger door and ran to the object which was becoming clearer by Howie's headlights. "GOD DAMN, DUDE!" Phil screamed. "IT'S WYLIE!!"
Howie stopped the truck, jumped out and ran toward Phil, already kneeling beside Wylie.
Wylie was naked. He had almost turned blue from the cold. There was a pair of boxer shorts stuffed in his mouth. His arms were tied with a rope behind his back, which attached to another rope tied around his ankles.
"IS HE ALIVE?" Howie shouted.
"Yes, his head is all bloody, but he's breathing!"
"Quick, take my pocketknife and cut the rope while I go get a blanket from the truck," Howie screamed, tossing his knife to Phil.
Wylie was conscious...beaten and cold, but conscious.
"Hey, guy!" Phil said pulling the boxers from Wylie's mouth and cutting the ropes. "It's me, buddy, it's Phil and Howie!"
"Phil?" Wylie said, weakly.
"Yes! What the fuck happened? Who did this to you?"
Freed from the tight ropes, Wylie could breathe better. He took a deep breath and as he exhaled, he sighed, "Harm."
"FUCK! Harm did this to you?" Phil asked as Howie returned with the blanket.
"Did he say Harm did this to him?" Howie interjected.
Wylie nodded as Phil yelled, "Yeah!"
"Did he beat you?"
"Uh huh."
"Where is he?"
"...don't know."
"What hit your head?"
"...branch...Harm swung it at me."
"That son of a bitch!" Howie uttered. "I'll kill him."
"Where are your clothes?"
"...don't know."
"Listen, Wylie, don't answer if you don't wanna, but did Harm rape you?"
Through weak tears of relief at his rescue, Wylie managed to shake his head once in the negative.
"Did he make you have any kind of sex?"
"...no."
"You can tell us, Wylie!" Howie exclaimed. "No one will ever know but us."
"...he didn't. I swear,"
"Have you been out here naked in the cold all day?"
"...uh huh."
"Come on, Howie, let's get him into your truck and go to the nearest hospital."
"The nearest one is Cole, Phil, but I don't know if they have an emergency room or not."
"ALL hospitals have 'em. They treat AIDS guys who try to commit suicide, don't they?"
"I guess."
"Then Cole has a fucking emergency room. You grab his feet and we'll carry him to the truck."
Phil and Howie lifted Wylie up to a sitting position and Howie covered him with an itchy army blanket before they moved him to the cab. Wylie was shaking all over from fear and cold. The warmth of the friendship of his two best friends--and the blanket--caused Wylie to be able to cry. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Once they were settled, Howie turned his truck around and sped down the road to the highway.
"Did you do anything to him, Wylie? Were you able to defend yourself any?"
"I hit him in the jaw," Wylie answered, just above a whisper. "I'm not sure if I broke the fucker's jaw, but I know I knocked out a couple of his teeth, just before he banged me with the limb."
"Wylie, on our friendship, do you swear he didn't do anything sexual to you?"
"No, I told you."
"Thank God for that!" Phil said, "You're alive! That's what's important!"
"How did you guys find me? Have you been out looking long?"
"The whole team went looking for you instead of having practice. There are police cars out looking for you right now!"
"What made you think of looking for me down by the pond?"
Phil and Howie glanced at each other. "That...that was just a hunch of Howie's."
"I'm glad he thought of it," Wylie said, still weak and trying to inhale the warm air of the truck heater.
"Do you know why he did it? I mean, what were you doing out here with him in the first place?"
"He told me everything, Phil...all about Sandy...and Ray, that guy from Shoney's...and Mrs. K. He was afraid I would tell on him."
"I'm glad you're alive, but I can't imagine why didn't kill you? Why would he tie you up and leave you?"
"He's scared, Phil. I don't think he wanted to kill me. Harm and I have always been friends and I...well, I don't know...except his mouth was bleeding a lot from the punch I landed on his jaw. I could tell he was in a lot of pain when he was tying the ropes."
"Rather than just outright killing you, I guess he thought you'd freeze to death out there with no clothes on in freezing weather. You'd probably have suffered less if he had killed you...but, thank God we found you first."
"You still want me to go to Cole?" Howie asked.
"Yes, if it's the nearest...and besides, maybe Coach Kerr is still there."
Howie's speedometer stayed glued on 80 mph until he reached the hospital. Phil ran inside to get a gurney and soon, almost frozen...but ALIVE, Wylie was quickly rolled into the emergency room
<><><><><><><><><><><>
After Cliff had dropped Tom off at the dorm, he stopped by St. Genesius to gather his notes, then came back out, locking the back door of the church. He got into his car and began to back out when he was suddenly blocked by a car which pulled up perpendicular to his rear bumper. Cliff hit his breaks before running into the side of the vehicle blocking him. He got out to see who it was, while at the same time, Harm emerged from the mystery vehicle...a light-blue Mustang.
"Harm, is that you?" Cliff asked, calmly.
"Yeah, Father, it's me," Harm answered in an angry voice.
"What's wrong, son, your mouth is bleeding. Have you been in an accident?"
"NO! I AIN'T BEEN IN NO ACCIDENT!" Harm yelled. "I SEEN YOU WITH HIM AND I JUST WANNA KNOW ONE THING!"
"Seen me with whom, Harm?"
"TOM! FATHER! TOM SUMMERFIELD!" Harm yelled. "AND I WANNA KNOW IF YOU'RE FUCKIN' HIM, TOO?"
"Harm, I don't know what..."
"SHUT UP AND ANSWER ME! I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU'RE BEIN' QUEER, AND I WANNA KNOW IF YOU'RE FUCKIN' TOM?"
Cliff had never felt fear before. It was a new experience for him, but he suddenly knew the meaning of the adage about a deer being caught in the headlights.
<><><><><><><><><>
(To be continued in "Briarwood"---BOOK SIX---chapter-sixty-three.).