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, 2003
Revised Version
A dramatic saga
by
Ritch Christopher
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BOOK SIX
"BRIARWOOD U"
Chapter-Sixty-three
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Despite being in the gravest danger he had ever known, Cliff maintained a relatively calm appearance, thanks to his lover, Roger who had been on many wild game hunts in Africa and India, and had taught Cliff that the safest thing to do when you're about to be attacked is to stand still and give the predator no reason to strike.
"Harm," Cliff said, "I'm glad to see that you're all right."
A momentary look of dismay crossed the enraged man's face. "Why the fuck should you care?" Harm snarled.
"You have many friends on the team that spent hours today looking for you. They've been worried since none of them has seen you in the past few days."
"Yeah, I'll bet." Harm replied. "But you still ain't answered my question, FATHER!!" Harm slurred the word, 'Father', so that it almost sounded like profanity.
"Are you referring to your having seen me with Tom earlier?"
"Yeah, I seen the two of you! Was he blowing you while you were drivin'?"
"No, Harm. As a priest, but more importantly as a man, if you knew me, you'd know I don't lie. Tonight is the first time I've ever had a chance to talk with Tom privately. I really don't know him."
"But you'd LIKE to, I'll bet."
"Yes, in the same way that I'd like to get to know you better," Cliff said.
"Yeah, I'll bet you'd like to do that, too," Harm sneered. "But you ain't gonna!"
"Harm, I'm being honest with you when I tell you that a lot of people have been very concerned about you. I saw Coach Kerr earlier this evening and he's worried. He thinks of you as one of his 'sons'...like Phil and Howie."
"Yeah, what does he think about Tom? Does he love him enough to have incest with him? I mean, isn't that what incest means?...when a 'daddy' takes his 'son' to bed to have sex with him?"
"Yes, that's one form of incest, but that doesn't necessarily apply in Coach Kerr and Tom's case."
"I seen 'em together in the locker room, Father. Yeah, I seen 'em kissin' and touchin' one another...and I know, good and well, they spent the night together last night in the same bedroom."
"Harm, can I ask you a question and will you please answer me honestly?"
"I--I'm not sure...but go ahead."
"You mentioned that you saw Tom and Coach Kerr in the bedroom at the Kerr residence. Were you angry because Tom was getting all of Coach Kerr's attention or were you mad because Coach Kerr was giving all his attention to someone other than yourself?"
"Shit! That ain't hard to answer. I don't care WHO Coach Kerr gives his attention to...as long as it ain't me. Hunh! I'd never go to bed with a man as old as he is. I just can't see why Tom did it?"
"Then what you're saying is, you don't want anyone to give Tom attention unless it's you?"
"Well....somethin' like that, yeah."
"Harm," Cliff swallowed and took a deep breath before his next question. "Harm, are you in love with Tom?" he asked quietly.
"What's this? Some of your 'Hail Mary' horseshit spewin' out of your mouth? Fuck, NO! Men don't fall in love with other men. You're just tryin' to get me to say somethin' I don't wanna say."
"How DO you feel about Tom, Harm?"
"I....I like him...I guess, that's about all."
"Then why do you get so upset when Tom is with other people?"
"You tryin' to get me to say I'm jealous?"
"Looking strictly on the surface, wouldn't it appear that you might be jealous? What else would you call it?"
Cliff's last question stumped Harm for a quick answer since Cliff had put into words, something that Harm had just realized. There was a long pause in their conversation, during which Cliff felt he could take advantage and change the subject, at least temporarily.
"Harm, I can't help but notice that you've been bleeding from the mouth and your face and jaw look swollen. Is there something I can do for you? Call a medic? Get you a towel or washcloth? Maybe offer you an aspirin or some ice? Are you hurt?"
"NO, to all of them questions! I'm all right...and I wouldn't want YOU to help me anyway!"
"Harm, we've only seen each other after a game or a couple of times when Coach Kerr invited me to say a word to the team in the locker room. I can't help but wonder why you're so angry with me?"
"Cause I seen you and Tom together in your car and you wouldn't tell me if the two of you had done something to each other."
"You mean, something physical, like sex?"
"Yeah. It's known around Briarwood that you're queer. I know that Tom likes guys and if the two of you get together, what else am I to think?"
"How do you know that Tom likes guys?"
"Because he's sucked my dick. How much more do you need to know?"
"You and Tom have been to bed together?" Cliff asked, rather coy.
"Yeah, as if YOU didn't know. Don't try that innocent, religious psychobabble on me! It won't work!"
"I take it that you're not religious, then. Is that it, Harm?"
"Oh, my mom took me to the Church of God with her all the time when I was a kid."
"And when you got older, you stopped going to church?"
"Damned right, I don't go."
"Do you still believe in God?"
"FUCK, NO! So, don't start playin' with your beads and prayin' to one of your statues. They're no more than witchcraft or voodoo dolls to me."
"I guess you really DON'T know me, Harm. I'd never ask a person to believe in something he's dead set against."
"That's the only good thing you've said so far."
"I only wish you'd let me take you inside so that I can attend to your jaw and mouth."
"What are you tryin' to do? Get me in there so you can try to poke your dick in my mouth? Is that how you want to 'attend' to it?"
"No, Harm, your jaw might be cracked or broken. You need to spit out that blood and rinse out your mouth."
"So you can lock the door and call the police? They're lookin' for me! You probably know that, though, don't you?"
"Well, I DID hear something about the police lookin' for you. As I said, I don't lie."
"Yeah, and they want to arrest me for murder!"
Harm had brought up the subject, so Cliff felt he could pursue the topic.
"Murder? Have you murdered someone, Harm?"
"Not just someone...someONES!"
"More than one?"
"Fuck, yes! You know all about it...you're just tryin' to trick me, play acting' like you don't know what I done."
"Harm, I really don't know anything about your murdering anyone."
"You heard about Sandy at school, didn't you?"
"Yes, I heard she hit her head accidentally, giving her a brain hemorrhage."
"Yeah? That's what you heard? Well, there's more to it than that."
"Harm, you said 'more than one'. Who else?"
"That queer waiter at Shoney's!"
"Oh, you mean the kid whose car went out of control on the ice and his car hit a tree?"
"Yeah! Well, the car on the ice had a little help before it hit the tree."
"Harm, you've been honest with me thus far...so now I want to know if you've seen Wylie or know of his whereabouts?"
"Yeah, I seen him."
Cliff felt a chill, more from his nerves than the frigid night air.
"Do you know where he is, Harm?"
"Yeah...he's dead!"
That's the one thing that Cliff feared hearing if Harm answered his question.
"Did you kill him, Harm?"
"Let's just say he was alive the last time I saw him, but that was hours ago. He's bound to be dead by now!"
"But---you don't know for sure?"
"Oh, I'm pretty sure. The last time I seen him, he was tied up naked on the side of a road. He's probably frozen to death by now!"
"You want to tell me where he is? I can send the police and an ambulance to see about him? He may yet be all right, it might not be too late. Wylie's a pretty strong guy, like yourself. He's strong enough to weather a storm."
"Not naked...on the ice! He's dead!! I'm sure he's dead."
"Why not let us be sure? Come inside my office and let's make a call. If he's still alive, at least that's one murder you can't accuse yourself of. Let's try to get that burden off your shoulders."
"Why the fuck should you care?" Harm blurted.
"Harm, if nothing more, let's just say I'm a big fan of yours. I watched you play every weekend and you're a good team player."
"I know you don't mean that...but...".
Cliff's last comment had begun to soften Harm. He looked at Cliff as though he wanted to believe him.
"Harm, about Sandy? What happened?"
"She was hiding under Tom's bed while we were makin' out and she heard everything we did."
"And Ray? The Shoney's waiter?"
"That wasn't really his fault. Tom took him to bed..."
"And you became jealous?"
"Yeah...yeah. I--I guess I did," Harm said with a new realization.
"Then maybe you ARE in love with Tom, only you're afraid to admit it to yourself. Harm, jealousy stems from love when there's no trust."
"How can I trust Tom, he seems to be floppin' from one bed to the next."
"But you and Tom are not involved in a relationship. Maybe that's why he does the things that makes you jealous."
"To me, Tom and I are in a 'relationship', as you call it!"
"Yes, but it may be only one sided."
"All right, Father, you wanna hear me say it?" Harm's agitation returned in his speech. "I DO love him...and I don't know why he can't love me the same way."
"Harm, since the beginning of time, no one has ever been able to MAKE someone else love him."
"No one ever has loved me, Father," Harm replied, tears starting to well in his eyes. "All my life I've wanted someone to love me...ANYONE...my mother...my dad...a girl... a guy...ANYONE...but no one ever has." His voice rose with emotion. "I'm just a dumb jock! A dumb joke! Someone who's only needed when the Coach wants help for another player, like Tom, to make a touchdown and then he gets all the cheers and glory. When the game is over, the guys like Tom are the heroes. They can get any gal or any guy they want...and just this once, it was MY time to have him...and I DID! We had good sex together! No, it was GREAT sex!", he cried.
"Harm, I don't have to tell you that even great sex can't be a substitute for love if the feeling isn't there."
"The feeling was there for my part!"
"Yes, but if Tom is going out with guys such as Ray when you're not around, it should show you that his feelings aren't as strong toward you as yours are toward him."
"Fuck, I oughta just kill the bastard and get him out of my life!"
"You mean, kill Tom?"
"Why the hell not? Oh, he and the coach are hitting it real big right now, I bet...and Coach Kerr thinks he's got him in his hip pocket. But just wait! Tom'll never be satisfied with ONE guy, let alone, a guy as old as the coach."
"That remains to be seen, Harm. What goes on between them...is between THEM, not us. Right now, I'm far more concerned with your telling me where Wylie is."
"I'll make a deal with you, Padre." Harm's eyes showed a sudden glint.
"All right, I'm listening."
"You let me go and don't call the police for a half hour and...I tell you what! Give me your phone number, let me leave, and I'll call you in fifteen minutes and tell you where Wylie is."
"Harm, fifteen minutes might mean the difference between life and death for Wylie!"
"Hell, I've already told you that he's dead. He won't be any deader fifteen minutes from now."
"All right, I'll give you my number and I promise not to call the police, ONLY if you promise to call me with Wylie's location."
"Padre, you just bought yourself a deal. Now give me that phone number of yours."
Quickly and nervously, Cliff jotted down the number of his rector's office in the church and handed it to Harm. Cliff looked deeply into Harm's eyes, "Remember, Harm...you promised."
"Father, I may be a murderer and I may be a lot of other things, but when I make a promise, I always keep it. I'm not like...like some stud who plays quarterback for BU."
"Are you going to call me from a pay booth...and if so, do you have change?"
"Shit! I forgot all about that. You'd better give me some change for the phone."
Cliff felt in his pants pocket and got two quarters, three dimes, and two nickels and gave them to Harm.
"Here, Harm, now please hurry and call."
"I can just about get out of Briarwood in fifteen minutes, so don't be worried if I don't call you until the sixteenth or seventeenth minute, but I WILL call."
"Where are you going?"
"That's my business. I have one little thing to take care of first, Padre, and then you can color me gone!"
"Harm, you know you can't keep running. You'll have to confront whatever's bothering you sooner or later. Why don't you go the police and see if you can straighten out matters with them."
"No way, Padre!"
"Look, son, if you need a lawyer, I have a friend, Walter Clayton, who is the finest attorney in Briarwood. Let me call him, or you can call him yourself, and tell him that I told you to contact him. Walter Clayton...will you remember that name?"
"Isn't he a queer, too? I heard of him. What the fuck? Do all you queers have some kind of fraternity or something?"
"Harm, why all this homophobic talk? Didn't you just admit that you loved Tom?"
"Yeah, but that's different!"
"How so?"
"I don't know! It just IS! That's all I know. You're just tryin' to confuse me again! Now shut up and let me get the hell out of here so I can call you and tell you where you can find Wylie's frozen-stiff body!"
"Go on then, son. But remember, if you need someone to help you. I'll always be here for you...and so will Walter, I'm sure."
Harm jumped into his car, revved the motor and sped away while Cliff stood in the damp cold November night air. He hurriedly unlocked the church door and ran to his office to await Harm's call. On his cell phone, Cliff called Roger at home and related the sequence of events that had happened since he left the hospital to leave Tom at the dorm.
Roger was all but thunderstruck when Cliff had finished his chronicle.
"Jesus Christ, babe!" Ed shouted. "Are you going to be all right?"
"I'm fine, Rog," Cliff assured him. "I don't think Harm will be coming back to see me. The most important thing at hand is to see if Wylie is alive or dead."
"You want me to call the police?" Roger asked.
"No, Roger, I promised Harm I wouldn't until he called me and let me know where Wylie is."
"YOU promised Harm, but I didn't!"
"The police will catch him sooner or later. Harm is desperate and he's scared. God, I wanted to put my arm around him and hold him to show him a little compassion, to say that there are those of us who care for him."
"You would've held hands with Ted Bundy on his way to the death chamber, Cliff. You're too damned trusting and one day, it's gonna backfire on you."
"Well, until that day comes, I'll keep on doing my job," Cliff said.
"Cliff, since you don't want me to call the police, is there anything else you want me to do?"
"Yes! I want you to call the Felton Dorm on the BU campus and see if you can get in touch with Tom...Tom Summerfield. Tell him that I've seen Harm and I want him to be especially careful. Tell him to call his friends, Phil and Howie, and to stay with them if he can. He shouldn't be alone until we know he's safe from Harm."
"You mean to see that he's not in 'Harm's way'? Sorry for the pun, but I couldn't resist it. You set it up so well." Roger casually joked.
"Thanks, I think we ALL could do with a laugh right now."
"I'll make you feel all better when you get home."
"I wish I were there with you now. I'll be home as soon as I find out about Wylie and call the police. I pray to God that he's all right. I've been praying for Harm, too. The kid needs help so badly. I wish he had stayed with me at the church. He desperately needs someone to talk with, someone he can trust."
"How about Jim, his coach?"
"Jim's been dying to talk with him but, apparently, I'm the only one who's seen and talked with him in days, other than Wylie, God protect him."
"Do you want me to call Jim?"
"No, he's at the hospital with Nina. He has enough worries at the moment. I don't want to add to his woes with Harm, too."
"OK, babe, I'll call Tom, but, in the meantime, YOU be careful!"
"I will."
"I love you."
"And I love you, too."
Fifteen minutes can seem like an eternity when you know it could be the difference between life and death. It's like waiting for the paramedics to arrive when someone you love has suffered a heart attack or had an auto accident on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere!
Cliff watched the digital clock on his desk as fifteen minutes came and passed...then, twenty, twenty-five, thirty...and still no call from Harm.
Tom had gone directly into his dorm when Cliff dropped him off from the hospital. He showered and shaved and put on a jogging suit. The sun had not gone down completely and Tom thought it would be safe to run around a couple of blocks of dorms. The exercise in the cool autumn air would help him to relax and make it easier for him to fall asleep once he returned. He was outside jogging when Roger called for him. Randy, the night monitor, knocked on Tom's door and checked the showers and toilets, but couldn't find him. This disturbed Roger. He wasn't sure whether to call Cliff to tell him about Tom's absence or wait a few minutes to see if Tom returned.
When Tom DID return, Randy met him at the door and told him that Roger Cole had called and was trying to reach him. Tom told Randy that he would go get out of the sweaty clothes, put on something drier and come back to the desk to return Roger's call. Maybe there was news about Nina. But then, why would Roger call, and not Jim? That seemed strange to Tom as he ran to his room. He unlocked his door and flipped on the light switch and he came to a totally stunned halt as he discovered Harm sitting there waiting for him.
"Harm!" Tom shouted. "How'd you get in here?" Tom asked.
"Not the way you did, I'm sure." Harm replied, rising to his feet. "I never had to suck an old man's dick to get to be a football hero!"
"Tom, why are you acting this way? Coach has always been like a father to you."
"Yeah, and what's he been to you...a sugar daddy?"
"Where have you been, Harm, and what the fuck happened to your face?"
"Let's just say that some members on the team don't kiss as easy as you do!"
Tom became suspicious. "Harm, have--have you been with Wylie?"
"You're pretty smart as well as being pretty, lover boy!"
"Harm, have you done something to hurt Wylie?" Harm didn't reply, just stood there smiling. "ANSWER ME, ASSHOLE!"
"Oh, you're calling me asshole, are you? That's what I'd like to be, YOUR asshole and I want you to be MY asshole!"
"Harm, you don't scare me one bit, so you can just slack off on the bullshit remarks!"
"Oh, I see you can still be brave even when you don't have a row of teammates to protect you...or the coach!"
"Harm, if you know what's good for you, you'll get the fuck out of here now! I suppose you know the police have a bolo out for you."
"I figured as much, I stopped by to see your religious boyfriend before I came here. I seen the two of you when he let you out of his car. How long have you and him been soilin' the sheets?"
"It's none of your business! What did you do to Father Cliff and what the fuck were you doing following me, anyway?"
"I just like to keep track of my competition." Harm replied, coming to Tom.
"Harm, have you gone nuts? I told you there is NOTHING between you and me...no relationship...no nothing!"
"Maybe that's how you feel." Harm said, advancing toward Tom, "but that's certainly not the signals you were throwing off the other night in bed with me."
"Goddammit! I told you...whatever you thought...well...it's over! It never began! It didn't happen! Can I make myself any clearer?"
"I don't think you gave me a fair shake. I've been wondering what the coach could do to you that I can't?" Harm walked past Tom, glancing down at the bed, then back at Tom. "How about letting me show you how good I can really be?"
"You say another word about our going to bed together and I'll show you how good I can be at defending myself, you jerkwad!"
"I thought you might try to get a little violent." Harm said, reaching his right arm around to his belt in the back. "That's why I brought this."
Harm quickly drew a .38 automatic he had hidden under his belt and pointed it at Tom. Tom felt a flash of panic spreading throughout his entire body. Tom realized that Harm was sicker than he had imagined. There was nothing he could do to defend himself from a maniac carrying a gun.
"What are you gonna do, shoot me now?" Tom asked, trying not to show alarm.
"Maybe not at first." Harm replied, "I'm really not into necrophilia."
"Is that supposed to make me feel relieved?"
"Nope, but I thought THIS." referring to the gun in his hand, 'might have its power of persuasion in convincing you to continue where we left off the other night."
"You think I could get excited with you holding me at gunpoint?"
"Why not?" Harm smirked, "it sure excites me."
"Harm, put that gun down and get some control of yourself before you do something you're going to regret!"
"What have I got to lose? I'm sure you've already gone to the police and told them about my killing two people."
"It wasn't murder, Harm. Sandy's death was an accident. Ray...well, Ray wrecked his car due to the slippery road. You could probably beat those charges with a good lawyer, but you still haven't told me about Wylie. Where is he--what happened to him? And Father Cliff! What did you do to him?"
"Don't worry, I didn't do anything to your precious saint. He's at the church waiting on my phone call to tell him where Wylie is."
"Is Wylie alive or dead?"
"He was alive the last time I seen him...but I don't think he is, right about now. Brrr! It sure gets cold outside when you're naked and tied up on the side of some dark road. How long do you think it would take for someone...say, a husky football player, to freeze to death."
"Are you talking about Wylie, Harm? Did you do that to him?"
"That's recent history. I want to talk about the present...you and me and this little power of persuasion I'm holding in my hand."
"Harm, I don't know the details of what you've done to Wylie. I told you that you could probably get the charges reduced concerning Sandy and Ray...but THIS...this gun you're pointing at me...well, if you shoot me, that's premeditated murder, which means you could get life or the electric chair."
"It'd be almost worth it, just to 'have' you again. Tom, choose whatever you want to believe about Sandy and 'Ray', if that's what his name was, but I caused their deaths. I killed them. I killed them because of you."
"So all you wanted was to have sex with me?"
"That would do for starters."
"And then what?"
"Maybe we could be MORE than just buddies or sex partners...I mean, I heard you tell the coach you loved him. You haven't known him much longer than you've known me. Maybe you could love me that way, too."
"Harm, goddammit! If you want to have sex, we'll have sex...here and now, but you have to put that gun down first!"
"You're thinking you could overpower me if I didn't have this gun, aren't you?"
"No, I'm offering you sex if that's what you have to have! But, like I said, I won't be able to perform under such stress."
"I suppose I could put it down within arm's reach...in case you changed your mind and wanted to become a hero...off the football field."
"OK, then. Put it down!" Tom ordered.
Slowly Harm placed the gun on the bed, all the while watching Tom carefully for a surprise attack on him.
"All right, Harm," Tom said, somewhat relieved that he had accomplished as much as he had, "what do you want me to do?"
"Well, you could start by taking off that sweat suit."
"OK," Tom said, complying by taking off his shirt and then his pants and jock, all the while keeping his eyes on Harm and the gun. "Now what?"
"Let me just look at you naked. It was dark in here the other night and I've only seen you naked under the shower at school. Let me get a good look at that body everyone seems to want."
Tom was naked and he felt VERY, VERY naked and very vulnerable as Harm stared up and down at him. He could feel himself blushing from head to toe. He had no hint of an erection. He doubted seriously if he could even get an erection.
"What about you? Are you gonna take your clothes off, too?"
"Not just yet."
"Well, what do you want me to do?" Tom asked.
"I want you to come here and take my dick out of my pants."
Harm turned around to his side where Tom could get to his fly, but he still managed to stay close to his .38 automatic.
Tom was determined not to get upset and let Harm see how nervous he was, but he had a hell of a time with his fumbling fingers trying to unzip Harm's pants. Finally, the 'stuck' zipper released and down it came.
"Go, put your hand in there and pull it out." Harm said, in a pseudo-sexy voice and the tone and inflection almost made Tom sick to his stomach. "You don't have to work to get it hard. It's been hard ever since you came into this room."
Tom desperately tried to pull the erect penis out of the slit in the trousers, but thought it would be easier to unbuckle Harm's belt and waist button. Harm didn't object to Tom's action, nor did he mind when Tom pulled both the trousers and Jockey briefs down to Harm's mid-thigh.
Harm had apparently been sleeping in his car and hadn't bathed in several days. The odor from Harm's dirty crotch reeked of sweat and dried semen. Harm hadn't lied about the erection because as soon as it was released from his pants, it sprang up full force.
"Now what?" Tom said...although he knew what Harm was about to say.
"Get on your knees and suck it a little,"
The idea of the act... Harm and Harm's stench... revolted Tom, but he was brave enough to go along if this would help soothe the savage beast. Tom knelt and stared at the hairy monster. He hadn't seen how big and ugly Harm's organ was in the darkness of his dorm room a few nights ago.
"Wait! Wait!" Harm said, "I want you to lick it some first."
Tom forced himself to push his head toward Harm's erection and tentatively stuck out his tongue to lick just the underside of the glans. He could feel a quiver going through Harm's body and he heard Harm sigh loudly while he exhaled. The stink almost caused Tom to gag, but he held his breath and proceeded with the foreplay. Harm was in sheer ecstasy. He closed his eyes and savored the moment he had been dreaming of for days.
"Now, just put the tip in your mouth and suck gently on it..." Harm whispered.
Tom took the entire glans into his mouth. He didn't continue with the motion, he was waiting for Harm's next instructions.
"That's it, baby, suck on the end of it."
With Harm's eyes closed, he was unaware that Tom had clenched his hands together. Tom counted to three and, with an upward thrust, slammed his doubled-up fists into Harm's unprotected crotch, crushing his nuts, and at the same time, he sank his teeth into the space above the ridge of Harm's glans and bit down on the penis with all his might.
Harm screamed loudly in howling agony with the blow and the bite. He tried to push Tom's head back, but Tom wouldn't let go with his teeth. Whether it was the force of the upward jab to the jewels or the precise bite from Tom's perfect teeth, Tom had bitten off an inch of Harm's penis...the entire glans was in Tom's mouth. Blood shot forth from the incised organ as a major artery had been severed. Gushes of red were spewing all over Tom's face, the carpet and everything in a radius of four feet. Tom stood up and spat out the piece of meat.
"You son of a bitch!" Harm screamed, "you bit my dick off!"
In spite of the pain, Harm reached for his gun on the bed only to find that it was missing. Tom had it.
Both of them had fear in their eyes...the fear that Harm might and could bleed to death. Was it possible? That Wayne Bobbitt guy had had his dick cut off by his wife's butcher knife and he lived; it was even sewn back on. Tom didn't think Harm would die from his wound, but he would be incapacitated long enough for Tom to summon help.. the paramedics...and the police.
"Do something, goddammit!" Harm yelled, still holding what was left of his organ, trying to make a tourniquet with his fist. "Call an ambulance...get help...but for God's sake, help me!"
Tom opened his door and ran down the hall and yelled to Randy at the desk, "Dial 911, Randy, get the police and the paramedics and hurry, please."
Gun in hand, Tom rushed back to his room. Closely behind him, Tom heard the sound of rushing footsteps as they ran up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom. It was Howie and Phil.
"Hey, Tom! Are you all right?" they were screaming as they ran. "We got a call from Roger Cole at the hospital and he told us to rush over here and check on you and...HOLY SHIT!" they exclaimed as the finally entered Tom's room. The two of them saw the blood spurting from beneath Harm's hands, which were clutching his crotch. Then they noticed the gun in Tom's hand.
"GOOD GOD!" Howie shouted. "What'd you do, Tom? Shoot his balls off?"
"It's not his balls," Phil said, realizing the nature of the injury, "It's his dick."
"God, what an aim you've got, Tom! I knew you could throw bullets on the field, but I didn't know you were a marksman, too."
Harm, writhing in excruciating pain, yelled, "He didn't shoot it off...he bit it off!!"
"He WHAT?!!!" Howie topped him with volume.
"The paramedics are on the way and I also called the police." Tom managed to interject.
When Howie and Phil sized up the situation, it was Howie who began to laugh first. Then Phil joined him, and, in a minute, the two of them were bent double with laughter. The state of the moment was serious, but neither of them had ever seen anything quite so hysterically funny.
The paramedics arrived at almost the same time as two police cars. One EMS put a clamp on Harm's penal stub as an officer was placing handcuffs on him. Another officer had taken the gun from Tom and was writing down Tom's account of events. It was 10:30 PM before the ambulance and police cars left Tom with Phil and Howie.
"Hey, buddy," Phil said to Tom. "Are you all right?"
"If I said 'yes', I'd be lying like hell,"
"My God, I don't blame you," Phil sympathized.
"I gotta hand it to you, Tom." Howie said, "only a quarterback could think of defending himself against a gun while only using his front teeth!" Howie couldn't help himself. He started laughing as hard as before.
"Guys, I think Harm did something to Wylie." Tom said.
"Wylie's OK." Phil assured him. "We found him outside of town."
"He's suffering from hymenthermia," Howie added.
"Hypothermia, egghead!" Phil said, correcting his lover.
"And he's got some frost bite on his dick. It was all black and..."
"Howie, you don't know that!"
"It looked like a frostbitten dick to me." Howie said.
"You don't know what a healthy dick looks like unless it has an erection."
"I only look at erections. What's exciting about a limp dick?"
Phil looked at Howie, then back at Tom and shook his head. The three of them laughed helplessly, easing the tension of the past fifteen minutes.
In the next second, Cliff and Roger ran into the dorm and were amazed to see Tom, Phil, and Wylie sitting on the bed, laughing.
"Come in, Father Cliff...Mr. Cole," Tom said.
"I can see that the three of you are all right, thank God," Cliff responded, somewhat relieved. "Harm was supposed to call me at the church, nearly an hour ago. I told Ed, Dr. Middleton, to call you here at your dorm but you didn't answer, so the two of us rushed over as fast as we could."
"Do you need some kind of medical attention, Tom?" Roger asked, noticing Harm's blood on the floor, bed, and walls.
"Maybe something for my nerves, but, physically, I'm fine." Tom replied.
"Are you too upset to tell us what happened? We saw an ambulance and a police car pulling away from the dorm as we arrived."
"Come on in. Let me pull out a couple of chairs and the two of you can sit while we tell you the whole story."
Cliff sat in the desk chair as Roger took the one easy chair in the room as Tom began to tell his four friends the events of the night. When he had finished, Phil and Howie related their experience of finding Wylie and Cliff concluded the trilogy of his episode with Harm in parking lot at St. Genesius.
"Does Jim know anything about all this?" Tom finally asked.
"I don't think so," Phil said. "We were looking for him at Cole to tell him about Wylie when Mr. Cole called us and told us to hurry to the dorm to check on you."
"Father Cliff? Mr. Cole?," Tom began, "do you think Harm could die from what I did to him?"
"No, son, as long as the paramedic did his job and secured a clamp on him," Roger said. "They DID take his glans penis with him to the hospital, didn't they?"
"His dickhead? Yes sir. They put it in a baggie," Tom replied, to which Howie doubled over with hysterical laughter. The remaining four in the room tried desperately to keep a straight face, but Howie's mirth was too contagious. One by one, they all broke up. It was a strange sight to see a priest and a renowned billionaire cracking up over someone's trauma, but it WAS funny, considering the events that had led up to it.
"It's nearly eleven o'clock," Cliff finally said. "What do you guys want to do? Are you and Howie going home?" Cliff asked Phil.
"We should, but I think we're all to keyed up to sleep."
"Hell, I had plans hours ago for something to put me to sleep," Howie added mischievously. "But I never had a chance to get around to it."
Phil gave Howie a dirty look. Tom, Cliff, and Roger got the drift of Howie's implicated remark and almost laughed out loud again.
"It's OK, Phil," Tom said. "We're all members of the same team. Aren't we, Father?"
"Yes, Tom," Cliff replied with a 'knowing' smile. "Phil, don't get angry with Howie. Roger and I aren't that much older than you three and we know what it's like to be young and filled with...with urges."
"It's more than just an urge, Father," Howie replied, innocently. "I'm just plain old horny."
It was Howie's remark that made the five of them laugh out loud, once more.
"Roger, do you think you could call Ed and ask him to phone a prescription for Howie?" Cliff asked, trying to keep a straight face.
"I could," Roger replied, "but from what I know about medicine, I think what Howie wants is something in the nature of---well, call it a massage."
"Damn, Phil! You see?" Howie exclaimed. "You heard Roger Cole of Cole Institute of Medicine say what I needed. So what are you gonna do about it?"
"I think I'll take you to the emergency room where they took Harm and see if you can donate a transplant for him, if I don't put my foot in your mouth first and have to have it removed surgically."
"Boys, I've invited Tom for lunch with Roger and me at our house after Sunday mass. Would you two like to join us?"
"We'd love to...as long as Howie promises to behave," Phil replied.
"Why? What did I do wrong?" Howie asked.
"Shut up and let's go home and let Tom get some rest."
"And what about...?"
"We'll take care of that, too, loud mouth!"
Phil and Howie stood up, starting to leave.
"Good night, Tom, Father Cliff, Mr. Cole," Phil said, giving the three of them a hug. "See you two at the game this week!?"
"We haven't missed one yet, have we?"
"You ARE coming too, Mr. Cole?"
"Yes, Phil, I'll be there cheering for old BU. But since you guys are the celebrities and I'm one of your biggest fans, why don't we drop the formalities and all of you call me Roger? 'Mr. Cole' reminds me of my grandfather."
"Gee thanks, it helps to know there's someone important like you on your side," Phil said.
Howie followed Phil's lead and hugged Tom, Cliff, and Roger as he told them good night. Phil and Howie left, arms around each other, snickering.
"Well, son, how do you feel?" Cliff asked Tom.
"Mostly relieved, I guess," Tom replied.
"Things could've turned out very differently tonight, you know."
"I know. I'm just sorry that Wylie got hurt in the deal. He was totally innocent and naive about what was going on."
"He's going to be fine, thank God," Cliff said. "We're going to stop by and check on him on our way home."
"Do you think Jim is still there?"
"I'm pretty sure. He told me he was going to sit with Nina tonight."
"Oh, did anyone tell you that Nina had regained consciousness?" Roger asked.
"NO!" Tom exclaimed. "How is she?"
"According to the last report I heard, just over an hour ago, she's going to be just fine. She'll be up and around in a week or so," Roger said.
Tom let Roger's remark sink in and he didn't respond. He just looked helplessly at Cliff.
"The news of Nina's getting well disturbs you, doesn't it, Tom," Cliff said. "I can see it in your eyes. A mixture of guilt, relief and dismay."
"Tom, if you'd rather talk with Cliff privately, I'll understand and wait in the car," Roger offered.
Tom looked at Roger, wondering how much Roger knew about his and Jim's relationship.
"Roger, how much do you know about Coach Kerr and...me?"
"I really don't know anything factual, but through the years, Cliff and I have learned how to read the other's mind. And although Cliff hasn't told me verbally, I can see something has been going on between you and Jim," Roger replied.
"Then you might as well stay," Tom said. "It's so confusing. I don't know what to do. I've learned to love both of them, but my feelings for Jim have gone far beyond friendship. I know that both of you are in a gay relationship, but I pray to God that neither you have to face what I'm going through."
"Tom," Cliff interjected, "you can be open with us. By our professions, we are sealed to confidentiality, so whatever you say to us will never go beyond this room. I told you that Roger was once a priest."
Tom's relief at Harm's apprehension took on a burdened demeanor as he began to talk.
"You see," Tom said, on the verge of tears, "I love Jim, not as a father, or a coach or mentor. I've fallen in love with him. I've lain in bed at night dreaming of our being together and spending the rest of our lives together, but I...I won't...I can't...I can't hurt Nina and I'm afraid that's what will happen." Tom broke down and cried. Roger and Cliff gave each other a 'knowing' glance. "God forgive me, but I was almost hoping that she wouldn't regain consciousness. I didn't want her to die. It's just that each of the three of us seemed to be getting in the way of the other two...and I can put a stop to it!"
"How, son?" Cliff asked.
"If I was out of the picture...if I should go away, then Jim and Nina might go back to the way they were."
"Do you think that's what Jim would want you to do?" Roger asked.
"No, Jim would rather I stay in Briarwood where we could see each other as often as we wished...but that's so unfair to Nina."
"You said you're in love with Jim," Cliff continued, "do you think he's in love with you?"
"Yes, dammit, and that's what's wrong with this picture. I know that he still loves Nina, too. He would have to! But at the same time, I don't want to be responsible for ending their marriage."
"But Tom, don't you realize that Jim's and Nina's marriage was unsteady before you entered into their lives? At least unsteady enough for Jim to want you?..to need you?"
"I've thought about that, too! What's even more bizarre is that Jim was supposedly straight before we went to bed that first time. I was the first male he'd ever done anything with. I mean, I wondered how he could suddenly manifest gay feelings after one session in the bedroom?"
"Tom," Roger said, "if you don't mind my offering my two cents' worth...maybe Jim and Nina weren't involved sexually any more. Maybe neither of them wanted to cheat on the other. Maybe on the spur of the moment, you gave him a sexual outlet...a chance to release sexual tension, frustration, loneliness from lack of intimacy."
"Yes, and I've often thought that maybe he thought of me as a son. He told me that he and Nina couldn't have children. It's strange, I looked up to Nina as a mother, and Jim...well, not as a father. My feelings for him went far beyond father and son. Sometimes, jokingly, I would think of his and my relationship as incest...but not really, if you know what I mean."
"Tom," Cliff added, "you've been through so much this past week, I understand how confused you must feel. Whatever you feel and whatever is going to happen, can't be determined in one night, especially after your ordeal with Harm tonight. It's too soon to make a quick, rash decision. Why not wait for Nina to get her strength back and, since the three of you know what's going on, are you man enough to sit down with both of them and see what their feelings are about the triangular situation?"
"Maybe, but I just know, in spite of what Jim feels for me, the three of us can't live together. That's just asking for instant pandemonium and trouble down the road."
"What if Nina should decide that Jim would be happier with you...and she decides to divorce herself from the two of you?"
"Then I would feel guilty every time I saw her or heard the mention of her name."
"Well, nothing has to be settled tonight. You should get some rest, go to your classes tomorrow and try to concentrate on this week's game. I think that's what Jim would like you to do," Cliff said. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep or would you like Ed to prescribe something for you?"
"No, no, thanks," Tom replied. "I'll be fine. I'm almost ready to collapse."
"Tom, remember--anytime you want to talk...or need anything, both Roger and I are here for you. Just name it!"
"How can I lose with a priest and my number one fan in my corner!"
"I'd rather you think that you have two friends in your corner."
"I do...honest!"
"You're sure you'll be all right, tonight?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
Tom rose and hugged Cliff and Roger together and held the pose as if courage and strength were passing from their bodies into his as tears of relief wet his eyes.
"See you at the game this weekend, son," Roger said.
"Sure thing!"
"And you are coming to Sunday lunch, aren't you?"
"Wouldn't miss it, Father!"
Cliff and Roger left with the knowledge that Tom had survived a major catastrophe.
Somehow the news of Wylie being in the Cole emergency room had traveled up to Jim in the ICU with Nina. Jim was elated at Nina's recovering consciousness. She was still a bit groggy and Jim felt it was too soon to question her about her accident for fear that she might suffer a panic attack and slide back into an amnesiatic coma.
Jim had hurried to Nina's room, after leaving Dan and Buddy in the waiting room. She recognized him, smiled, and tried to offer her hand to him.
"Nina, darling," Jim said, "it's so wonderful to see your eyes open."
"I saw the monitors and the IV in my arm and realized I must be in a hospital," Nina weakly replied.
"You're at Cole. Father Cliff and Ed, 'Dr, Middleton', insisted on bringing you here."
"I had an auto accident, didn't I?"
"Ssh, ssh, let's don't talk about that now. When you're stronger, we'll discuss everything, but not now."
Nina had a scared look in her eyes, "Harm! Did Harm find you and Tom?"
"No, Tom and I are both fine."
"I was trying to..."
"Ssh, ssh, not now...later. Don't think about unpleasant things. Would you like some water or juice?"
"Yes, please, my throat feels so dry."
"Let me go to the nurses' station and see what you're allowed to have. I'll be right back."
"Don't worry, I don't feel as if I'm going anywhere. These tubes and wires seemed to have me tied down."
"God, I'm so glad to have you back, Nina...Really! I love you so much!"
"I love you, too, Jim. I was so worried...Harm...?"
"It's all right. Now don't talk. Let me go see if I can give you some water."
Jim left Nina's room and hurried to see her nurse.
"Mr. Kerr," the nurse said, "I was told that one of your students was downstairs in the ER."
"Oh?"
"Wylie Hammersmith? Is he...?"
"Yes. Did you hear how he was? I mean, is he alive?"
"Yes. Apparently two of his friends brought him in with hypothermia and minor bruises and lacerations."
"Thank God for that?"
"Pardon?"
"I mean, thank God, if that's all that's wrong with him. The important thing is...he's alive. Excuse me, but my wife is thirsty and I didn't know if she was allowed to have liquids by mouth?"
"Certainly. I'll take some juice to her. She can have all the water she wants."
The nurse left her station and accompanied Jim back to Nina's room where Nina drank a cup of water and a small container of pineapple juice.
"Mr. Kerr, if you'd like to go check on your student, I'll stay with Mrs. Kerr until you get back."
"Do you think it'll be all right?"
"Why don't you ask your wife?"
"Jim, did she say that one of your students is a patient here?"
"Yes, it seems Wylie had...he had an accident during...football practice...nothing major. He just had to get x-rayed," Jim lied.
"They brought him to Cole to be x-rayed?" Nina asked, a little suspiciously through the fog that clouded her mind.
"Yes, Cole was the closest hospital."
"Oh," Nina replied as if Jim's answer had satisfied her.
Just as Jim was stepping out of the elevator on his way to the emergency room, Phil and Howie were coming in from the parking lot. They were surprised to see Jim.
"HEY, COACH! You're not gonna believe what just happened!!!" Howie exclaimed, loud enough to be heard in every cubicle of the ER.
A nursed reared her head up from her desk and gave Howie a dirty look to shush him.
"Sorry, ma'am," Howie said, but then he turned back to Jim and began whispering loudly, "Harm's been arrested!"
"What?" Jim replied.
"Well, he WILL be arrested once he gets out of surgery."
"Good God, Howie! Tell me what happened!"
"You're not gonna believe this! Just wait until you hear it!"
"I was on my way down to see Wylie, but why don't we go into the coffee shop where we can talk at a normal level and not disturb the emergency room. It seems there's a lot you have to tell me. I want to hear about Harm, but first I want you to tell me about Wylie," Jim said.
"Oh, that was much earlier. A lot has happened since Phil and I brought Wylie here."
Phil interrupted Howie's dissertation long enough to say, "Coach, how's Mrs. 'K'?"
"She's awake, Phil. Thanks for asking. She's going to be fine."
The three of them walked to the coffee shop which was on the main floor, next to the ER, ordered coffee and sat at a small table where Howie talked nonstop for twenty minutes filling in every detail he could remember from the night's events, except why he and Phil were out on the dirt road after practice. When Howie got to the part about Tom incising Harm's penis, Jim didn't know whether to smile with relief or feel sorry for Harm.
"Is Tom OK?"
"He's in good hands, Coach. We left him at the dorm talking with Father Cliff and Roger, our new friend."
"It must've been very traumatic for Tom."
"I guess so. I almost threw up when I saw Harm lying there bleeding and his dick on the floor about six feet away from his body."
"I think I should call Tom," Jim said.
"It might not hurt, but you'd have to get Randy at the desk to go to Tom's room to call him to the phone and old 'randy' Randy might get suspicious." Howie said.
"Coach, I think if Tom wants to talk to you, he'll call you or he'll wait until tomorrow and come see you."
"I'm just sorry I couldn't be there for him."
"Coach, you can't be in two places at one time!" Howie added. "You had to be at the hospital with Mrs. K. It was our job to look after Tom, if you remember."
"Only we didn't do a very good job, I'm afraid," Phil said.
"Maybe tomorrow things can start getting back to normal now that Wylie's been found and Harm's no longer a danger to anyone, plus the fact that Mrs. K's gonna be all right!" Howie said.
"We can just pray," Jim replied.
Cliff and Roger returned home and as they entered and stood in the foyer, Roger took Cliff into his arms and held him.
"My God! What a night!" Roger whispered. "I'm worn out and I didn't go through half of what you did. It makes me shudder to think that Harm might have hurt you---or worse."
"He didn't, though. Remember I was on holy ground and I had dozens of saints and angels to defend me." Cliff replied.
"Maybe I should drive back to the church and thank them personally or buy some new statues to fit around the sanctuary." Roger said, giving Cliff another big squeeze. "I love you so much, Cliff. I still get a chill when I think I might have lost you tonight. I mean, if Harm had done anything to you, then, I'd've been forced to do something to Harm...then our boys wouldn't have anyone they could call whenever they needed one of us."
"I think we've done a pretty good job making our boys independent," Cliff said in mock innocence.
"They're independent as long as it takes for them to pick up the phone and call for help,"
"Would you want them any other way?"
"Nope! Cliff, we might not have sired them or they might not have our blood or DNA, but they're still ours...ALL of them."
"...and counting..."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You talked with Jeff so you know we're about to add three more to our family."
"Think I ought to get a part time job to support them?"
"I guess you'd better check with Walter and ask him if we can afford three more."
"Yeah, one never can be sure how much money he has in the bank."
"You've never known?"
"And I don't want to know! If I find out, you'll read my mind and then Y OU'LL know and you might want to divorce me to get half of it."
"Then I won't tell you my bank balance either. You might need MY money!"
"Did we have enough to buy groceries this week?"
"Just barely..."
"Good! Are you hungry?" Roger asked, kissing Cliff on the tip of his nose.
"Famished!"
"And...a little horny, maybe?"
"Maybe both!"
"Which do you want to take care of first?"
"I think I'd like my veggies, now---and I'll have my meat later in the bedroom."
"How does broccoli au gratin and escalloped potatoes sound to you?"
"Like Jay had planned the menu."
Roger laughed.
"I nearly forgot. Jeff wants you to call him."
"It's after eleven o'clock!"
"When did Jeff ever go to bed before one or two A.M. when he lived in Briarwood. You know damned well he's up...and Johnny, too. Go ahead and call him while I rustle up some grub, cowboy!"
Cliff pressed speed-dial on his phone and called Jeff. Johnny answered.
"Hello?"
"Johnny? This is Cliff."
"Hi, Father. Jeff's been awaiting your call."
"There's nothing wrong, I hope."
"Maybe not for long at this end of the conversation." Johnny said.
"What do you mean?"
"Here, I'll let Jeff tell you about it." Johnny handed the phone to Jeff.
"Hi, Father!" Jeff said.
"When will you ever call me 'Cliff'? I mean, you're a priest yourself now, with your own parish. We're brothers in the church now."
"I'll call you 'Cliff' when I get to be your age."
"Yes, and then you'll be thirty-seven and I'll be fifty-two and you'll be calling me 'Grandfather Cliff. What's up, bub?"
"It's Mike, Michael Hanley? The kid I told you about." Jeff said. "I'd like to send him down to Briarwood before the week is out. That is, if everything's ready for him at Cole."
"Everything's ready, Jeff, and it's BEEN ready. Roger and I were just waiting to hear from you."
"I'm still not sure I made the right decision about his staying with Ryan and Kyle. I mean, they have their two kids and trying to adjust a sixteen year old boy into their lives might put a strain on their relationship. And besides, since he is positive, he hasn't learned yet how to be careful about keeping his hands clean. He does lack in the sanitary department. I don't think he ever bathed more than once a week when he lived in Dothan, Alabama... and I don't know if he should be around small children until he realizes the magnitude of his disease."
"You know, Jeff, that Roger and I have vacant bedrooms galore here at our house. He's certainly welcome to stay here until he makes adjustments and settles in. He'll be in Cole for a couple of weeks, then, I suppose he'll be an out-patient. I don't know how he would feel living with someone Roger's and my age."
"I don't think that would be any trouble, he's adjusted to living with Johnny and me. He's been spending quite a bit of his time with Ted's physical therapy...and in spite of Mike's insistence of being straight, Alex and Ted feel he's developed--well, a crush on Ted."
"Oh? Has he caused any friction between Alex and Ted?"
"Are you kidding? Those lovebirds? They've been lovers for over ten years, but since the commitment ceremony, they're still newlyweds!"
"I'm glad to hear that, Jeff. I'm glad they've found happiness at last."
"Soooo, would it be all right if Mike came to Briarwood, say, Thursday?"
"That would be great, Jeff. Roger and I are going to the BU football game Friday night and we could take him with us and let him meet the team."
"Sounds like a winner!"
"No, Jeff, it's you who sounds like a winner. You're doing a wonderful job in Mackintosh! What about the other two, Scott and Alan?"
"They'll be down in a couple of weeks. Scott is breaking in a couple of new bartenders at the Puff. When he's satisfied that the place can exist and operate without him, he and Alan'll be on the next plane. I'm doing all I can to expedite their trip because the sooner that they can get on a regimen diet and hooked up to chemotherapy, the better off they're gonna be."
"Just keep playing, 'missionary', Jeff, and send as many residents down to Cole, as you can. We'll be happy to treat anyone you send to us."
"Oh, yeah, that's right! I almost forgot that you sleep with the owner of the Institute."
"I have to keep my foot in the door some way."
"How IS Uncle Roger?"
"Hasn't changed a bit except he says he loves me more every day. It's mutual, I assure you."
"You guys sound happy as ever!"
"No more than you and Johnny." Cliff said. "It's great to be alive and know that you have someone to love."
"I know that too.
"Now give me a recap on Mike."
"He's tall, good looking, a bit malnourished when we first saw him. He's sixteen years old, he's from Dothan, Alabama. He has no family since his brother, Vince, died from the 'plague' here in Mackintosh. His brother came by his house to say goodbye before he came to Mackintosh, got a little too excited, perhaps, and had anal sex with Mike, thus Mike became infected too. Only no one knew it until we got his report from Cole that he was positive."
"What's he like, personality wise?"
"A little cherub from a country hick town. He does have an attitude problem, though."
"What kind?"
"He won't do anything unless he thinks it's his own idea."
"I used to have a kid that hung around St. Genesius with the same problem. I think he's a priest now, in some small hamlet in New Hampshire."
"Who me? I NEVER had an attitude problem."
"And the moon's made of Roquefort cheese, too, isn't it?"
They laughed.
"God, it's good to hear your voice again, Father."
"Yours too, my little compadre. Maybe you and Johnny can come down right after Christmas. I know you want to celebrate a big Christmas mass at your own church."
"Oh, yes! The choir is already rehearsing a cantata. It's gonna be great!"
"I'd love to hear it, Jeff."
"Oh, you'll have your own with a full symphony and hundred voice choir, singing 'Alleluias' loud enough to drown out the Briarwood Baptist Church choir, five miles away."
"I'll see if I can't get your dad and Dave to come up to your Christmas mass."
"I'd like that...only don't force them or make 'em feel that they HAVE to come."
"Nothing would delight Walter more than being served Christmas mass by his son and spend the holidays with all four of his boys."
"That would be a great Christmas present for all of us."
"I think it can be arranged...but that's three months away. Now tell me when to expect Mike."
"I'll call you at St. Genesius Wednesday when I have his flight schedule on Thursday. Someone CAN meet him, can't they?"
"If I'm not available, I have a half dozen substitutes who'll be glad to."
"Give my love to Uncle Roger and to Jay and Troy. I've got to call my dad and Kyle and Ryan to tell them that Mike's going to be staying at your house for the time being."
"We'll all probably see each other at the game. If not, I'll make sure that Mike meets everyone at church on Sunday. Roger and I are having a few members of the BU football squad over for lunch. I think Mike might get a kick out of getting to know some of the players personally. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him, Jeff."
"I know, just like you always took care of me. But it's kinda sad to think some sixteen year old kid might be taking my place."
"Jeff, no one will ever take your place in my heart...nor any of the other 'Briarwood Boys'. You're all special!"
"I love you, Father."
"And I love you, my little Father."
"Good night."
"'Nite".
Cliff hung up the phone and paused to memorize the sound of Jeff's voice in his mind and in his heart. His and Jeff's bond was almost as great as Jeff's and Walter's, his father.
"Ready to eat?" Roger announced.
"And then some." Cliff replied.
"Is everything fine in Mount Idy, as Charlie Weaver used to say?"
"Oh, yes. Things are going great for the guys in Mackintosh."
Cliff paused and looked long and hard at Roger.
"What's wrong? There's SOMETHING! I know it when I see that look in your eyes," Roger said.
"I was about to ask you how you would feel if we adopted a sixteen year old kid---on a temporary basis?"
"Uh, oh. You're speaking of that kid, 'Mike', aren't you?"
"Uh huh."
"Well, I suppose I have to say, 'GREAT', if only to make you happy!"
"That's what I thought you'd say."
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(To be continued in "Briarwood"---BOOK SIX--chapter--sixty-four)