Briarwood

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 SEVEN

"I WILL LIFT UP MINE EYES"

Chapter-Seventy-one

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The second day of Lee's disappearance from the Malone household was the worst. Jake had given an Oscar-worthy performance, showing deep concern about the whereabouts of his brother. Reverend Malone's interrogation of Jake rivaled a judge from the medieval Inquisition. After hours of questioning, William Malone lost his temper with Jake's denials and became violent. After Jake's fortieth or fiftieth reply of "I don't know, Dad. Honest!" William struck Jake's left cheek with the back of his hand. The blow landed hard enough to knock Jake five feet, hitting the floor with a thud. Jake tried to fight back his tears through his pain as he stood up to face his dad.

"Don't get up, you lying son of Jezebel! You KNOW where your brother is and if I have to strike you down with God's might, I will do so."

"But, Dad," Jake pleaded. "Suppose he's been kidnapped or hit by a car. Maybe he had a fainting spell and is lying out there in the desert somewhere, unconscious and dehydrated! What makes you think he's run away? I swear to you, I don't know where he is!"

"I don't believe you," his father whispered. "This is something you and Lee plotted against me and the church. He was the son of a whore, just as you are. You both have that sinful streak your mother possessed! God knew about her--He sent her to hell before she could completely corrupt either of you. I made a vow to the Almighty that I would raise you according to His teachings."

"Dad, please stop saying those things about Mom!"

"I'll say that and more. Apparently Lee wasn't cleansed in the blood from some of her wild ways and notions. In biblical times, your mother would've been stoned like the harlot that she was."

"Dad, calling Mom a whore or harlot means she was having sex with other men. I never saw her look at another man when she was alive."

"Oh, no?" William continued. "I've never been sure that you are my kid. There's no telling who she slept with before you were born."

"But, Dad, even up to the time she died, she slept in the same bed with you every night."

"Yes, but by damn, I didn't touch her. She was vile and evil. She was so caught up in desires and the ways of the flesh. I would've been unclean if God thought I did things with her in the darkness of the night. I never saw her with another man, myself, but I somehow felt that Satan came into our bedroom while I was asleep and had his way with her."

"Are you telling me that my real father is Satan?"

"He might have been until I took you down to the river and washed you in the blood of the Lamb. I didn't do that with Lee. I baptized him at church when he was ten years old."

"So you think I'm evil?"

"Yes, and I'll beat hellfire and damnation out of you until you tell me the truth about where your brother has gone."

Once again, he slapped Jake, only harder and with more vengeance.

"I prayed to the Lord this morning when your brother didn't come home and I promised Him that I would fast and neither eat nor drink until Lee returned. So I'm not going to buy groceries or make you any meals. If you get hungry, you can go down to the back of one of the restaurants downtown and eat out of the garbage cans with the rats and the stray dogs."

Jake had never seen his father this angry. He remembered that he had promised to send his lawn mowing money to Lee, once he knew where Lee had gone, but now, Jake realized he would need some of his own money to eat and survive on. His dad picked up his Bible and went into his room where he pulled up a straight back chair and faced it toward the window that looked over the main street in Fort Stockton. William would sit there and fast as long as he had to.

Jake quietly went into the bathroom to look at the cuts and bruises on his face. The cool water, which always tasted of iron, burned him as he splashed water on his face. He looked carefully at his image in the mirror and thought how glad he was that Lee had left. Jake hadn't run away as Lee had, and he knew that his father's anger would be twice as severe on him. Jake knew he could take it. He was used to receiving blows to his face and body playing football. But Lee's body was more delicate and tender. A slap to Lee, like the one Jake had received from William, could cause permanent damage to him.

Jake also knew that it might be weeks or months if and when Lee came back home...maybe never! How long would his dad stay angry and how long could he fast before he collapsed from starvation? If Jesus Christ could fast forty days in the desert, William Malone could do the same, or at least he thought he could. That was God's way...that was Jesus' way...and that would become William's way and, as far as William was concerned, the doors at his church would remain closed and his faithful followers could stay home and pray with him for the return of his prodigal son.

WHEN Lee came home, not if, because William was sure that, with his prayers and show-of-faith fasting, Lee would have to come before the entire congregation to repent and say how sorry he was for interfering with their worship. That would be the first of many punishments William planned to bestow on his son.

"What are all these new sensations? What's the secret they reveal? I'm not sure I understand But I like the way I feel. Oh, why is it that every time I close my eyes he's there? The water shining on his skin, The sunlight in his hair? And all the while I'm thinking things That I can never share with him. I'm a bundle of confusion Yet it has a strange appeal. Did it all begin with him, And the way he makes me feel I like the way he makes me feel..."

From the motion picture, "Yentl"

Lyrics by Alan and Marilyn Bergman

Music by Michel Legrand

Copyright 1983

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The beginning of romance for Doug and Charles in the den of Doug's house was very exciting and stimulating for both of them. After half an hour of kissing, petting--and half a bottle of Jack Daniels--Charles' luggage was moved from the guestroom into Doug's bedroom.

The cyber sex, which they had been practicing, was a good warm up for what was to happen later, but for now, neither of them had realized the possible effect of holding each other intimately. They had known for several weeks about the lonely lifestyles that they were leading, separately, miles apart. But their close embracing manifested to each his need for physical love. They weren't strangers because in reality they had been kin, all the years that Doug and Louise were married.

Doug looked deeply into Charles' eyes for the first time and his eyes were almost identical to Louise's. Touching Charles' lips with his own was almost like kissing his deceased wife's lips, even down to a similarly-crooked front tooth that both Louise and Charles possessed. Doug felt it when his tongue entered his brother-in-law's mouth on its solo exploration.

Sexually, they were both aroused, almost from their first touch. Neither of them had ever had experience in trying to satisfy another male's sex organ. That part might be different from the sex they had previously known, as they both had been married, both widowed, and both had been one-hundred percent heterosexual.

It was Charles who made the first move as he slowly lowered his right hand from behind Doug's back and groped Doug where the fly of his pants was protruding. Charles squeezed Doug's clothed penis and Doug felt an electrical charge shoot through his body.

Wanting Charles to know that he was not traumatized or stunned by the grasp, Doug followed Charles' lead and grabbed Charles' crotch as well.

"Want to stop?" Charles whispered into Doug's ear.

"Only if you want me to stop, too."

"May I go a step farther and unzip your pants? I would like to touch the real you."

"We could go into my bedroom and...remove our clothing. Would that be going too far, too fast?" Doug asked.

"I don't think so."

"Maybe we should move your luggage into my room in case you wanted to put on a robe or something."

"By moving my luggage, is that an invitation to spend the night in your room?"

"I have a huge king-size bed...big enough for two men to share--that is, if you'd like to."

"I could think of nothing I would like more. I'd be pleased to sleep in your bed with you."

They stopped the unfamiliar groping for a moment as Doug took Charles' hand. The two of them walked hand in hand down to the guest room to retrieve the two suitcases, then retraced their steps, setting the bags down beside Louise's big easy chair in the master bedroom.

They stood three feet apart, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Charles put his hand up to the knot of his tie and began removing it. Doug did the same. Slowly they removed their jackets and shirts. Charles sat down in the chair while Doug sat on the edge of the bed as they took off their shoes and socks, both finishing about the same time. Next, with hesitation, came the belt buckles and the pants. They were both men. Men took off their pants in front of one another in many different situations, gym locker rooms, changing rooms at swimming pools, department stores, etc. They did that all the time, didn't they? But this was somehow extremely difficult and different. They weren't just undressing, they were getting naked in front of one another, each bourgeoning forth a full erection.

Both their demeanors were quite serious. It was Charles who lightened the mood by making a slight joke.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Charles said with a twinkle in his voice. They both laughed.

"We ARE acting a bit juvenile, aren't we?" Doug replied.

"That's because we're doing things that young boys do. Something that neither you nor I ever did, apparently."

"What'll we do? Count to three and drop our trousers?" Doug asked with chagrin.

"My God, if dropping our trousers is going to become such a spectacle, we could be here all night, each trying to out-wait the other."

"Do you think we both need another drink before we proceed?"

"No, let's be brave!" Charles said, quickly undoing his belt, lowering his pants and stepping out of them. Doug's mirrored reaction only put him a few seconds behind Doug as he stepped out of his trousers, leaving them both with only their "raised" boxers.

Again, there was a long hesitation before the next and final article of clothing was removed.

"You want me to turn out the lights?" Doug asked, trying not to show his timidity.

"Hell, no. I'm not ashamed of what I have to show, and neither should you be!" Charles replied.

Each of them grabbed the waistband of his own boxers, each fumbling to get the elastic below his taut erection until each of them was totally nude. Both sets of eyes quickly lowered to get a look at the object of embarrassed attraction.

"My God!" Doug exclaimed, "they're about the identical size."

"That's good, isn't it? Just something more that we have in..."

"COMMON!" They said simultaneously and broke into laughter. Charles took the initiative to walk toward Doug and resume kissing as their organs began to get acquainted while bobbing together.

Not knowing what to do next, Doug suggested, "Why don't I pull down the covers and turn off the lights from here on in?"

"If that will relax you and make you feel more comfortable."

"I think it would," Doug replied as he left Charles to turn down the bedspread and top sheet. Charles lay on the bed while Doug went for the light switch. The room was completely dark except for the illumination coming into the bedroom window from the night-lights on the large lawn outside. Doug slowly joined Charles in the bed and their naked bodies touched as they continued to kiss.

Doug pulled his lips away from Charles to ask, "Are we turning gay?"

"I don't believe so. One doesn't 'turn gay', one is born gay."

"Then why has neither of us done this before with another man?"

"Doug, I honestly don't think you would have ever tried or even wanted to try to do this with another man. I know I wouldn't have."

"Then, why? Why now? Why the two of us after all these years?"

"Could you put into words why you fell in love with my sister, years ago?"

"Probably not."

"I've did a lot of thinking before I came to visit you. I was questioning my own manhood or masculinity. There have been hundreds of essays, poems, novels, and the like with the same thought, "Love knows no boundaries". True love has no limitation. A man loves his parents when he is a child. He loves his dog as if it were human. He loves his brothers and sisters, his teachers, his best friend, his girlfriend, his wife, and even so far as his car, his house, his money. Who's to say where love begins or ends? You've written romantic novels where a man loves his wife dearly, but at the same time, suddenly finds that he loves his mistress the same, but differently. Didn't David love Jonathan? Didn't Christ love his disciples? Love exists when a person has that feeling of knowing he loves something, be it living, material, or non-existent. A person has never seen God, but he chooses to love Him and feel that the Supreme Being loves him in return."

"Are you saying that we, you and I, love one another?" Doug asked.

"Of course. As the husband of my sister, I've always loved you on that level, but she's gone now, except for the memories of her that you and I still love. But now we're all but alone. Your Louise and my Sarah knew, accepted, and returned our love for them as long as they were living. Who's to say that we can't share some of the love we had for them between the two of us. Does that make either of us gay?"

"Not when you explain it that way. I would be lying if I said my fondness for you hasn't grown during our Internet chats. But I keep asking myself, how can fondness grow into sexual desire...between two heterosexual men?"

"First of all, who's to know? And who's to care except the two of us? And I'm reminded of the adage, 'if it feels good, do it!'."

"I must say that holding you in my arms DOES feel good."

"And how does the touching...below our waists...how does that feel?"

"Frighteningly exciting!"

"Would you be more frightened, more excited if I were to masturbate you?"

"A little of both, I guess."

"We COULD do it to each other at the same time, you know. After all, we DID climax at the same time on the Internet!"

Doug thought to himself for a moment and then said, "You're absolutely right! WHO'S TO KNOW?"

With a slight reluctance and intimidation, each of them lowered his hand to grasp the other's organ. Each let out a tiny sigh with the touch. They locked lips and began to mutually pleasure the other.

"Oh, God, that feels wonderful!" Charles exclaimed, "more so than I ever fantasized."

"I can't believe we're doing this, but I wouldn't stop for all the royalties on my next two novels," Doug grinned in the darkness.

Five minutes of their sexual manipulation was about all that either of them could stand before each of them climaxed into the other's hand.

"My God, we've ruined your sheets," Charles said.

"I don't care! I have a linen closet full of sheets. We can dirty all of them if you like." He surprised even himself in his forwardness.

"I'm just warning you," Charles said with a smile. "I might get used to this and stay longer than I'd planned," Charles said.

"That first time felt so good, I don't care if you EVER go home. Let's do it again, only now that the initial fear is gone, let's take our time and really enjoy it."

"There are other things we could do, you know."

"Don't worry, Charles, I think we'll get around to trying all of them!"

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"That was one of the best times of my life," Mike said, as he and Tom got back into their Winnebago. "Are you sure we saw ALL the patients? We didn't miss any of them, did we?"

"I checked the hospital registry three times, we saw all three hundred of them and I don't regret a minute of it, even if it did take us a week," Tom replied.

"Some of them looked so bad, Tom. I wish I were some kind of faith healer and could have just laid my hands on them and made them well!"

"My little one, you did that to many of them. You gave them courage and the hope to fight their disease. Not many of them had the faith and the medical treatment that you had."

"And not any of them had a lover like I have. I realize I'll always be grateful to Dr. Middleton and his staff and the drugs and things that they did for me to get me well, but, actually, it was you that made me well. I wanted to get well--for you! I couldn't think of dying and leaving you all alone...or finding a new lover to take my place."

"Little guy, no one would or ever COULD take your place in my life! I'd've moved to a mountain somewhere and became a hermit before I'd've lived my life without you."

"You really mean that, don't you?" Mike's seriousness was intimidating and tender at the same time.

"You just said it yourself, you wouldn't've wanted to go on living without me, so why would you think I'd feel any different?"

"I guess you shouldn't, but..," Mike said.

"What do you mean, 'I guess'? You know goddamned well I shouldn't!"

Tom was behind the steering wheel, but Mike managed to maneuver himself into Tom's lap for a hug and a kiss.

"Where're we going next?" Mike asked with eager eyes.

"You've got the map. You tell me! However, I seem to recall you said something about the Houston Space Center and then, the Alamo, followed by the Grand Canyon."

"Yippee! Where to first?"

"Well, Fort Worth is the next big city. We could stop there or go right on to Houston."

"You know what I'd really like to do?"

"Uh oh, here it comes! I know you want to pull over somewhere and make love."

"I always want to do that...but besides that..."

"What, my love?"

"When I was a kid in Alabama. I used to look at some magazines. I think they were called, 'Arizona'."

"And?"

"Well, there were all kinds of pictures in the magazines of deserts, prairie dogs, tumbleweeds..."

"Go on..."

"And these huge cactuses!"

"Cacti."

"What?"

"The plural of cactus is cacti."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope!"

"Well, I always wanted one...a tiny one."

"Tiny one, what?"

"Cactus...with a big red blossom on it."

"Mike, I don't think we're going to see any cacti or cactuses on an Interstate Highway. Most of the big cities are connected with buildings and industries. You won't see much of the desert unless you're in a helicopter looking down."

"Aren't there some 'off roads' away from the Interstate?"

"I suppose. Look on the map and see if you can find one on the outskirts of Fort Worth."

"Well, don't start up the motor until I find one."

"You REALLY want a cactus?"

"Just a teensy one. We can put it in a pot, if we stop at one of those Indian places. It wouldn't take much attention, would it? I mean, you don't have to WATER a cactus do you?"

"Well, cacti are a lot like camels, they can go for a while without water, but eventually, everything in nature requires a drink."

"Just an eensy teensy tiny one in a small clay pot? Please?"

"ONE CACTUS COMING UP! Tell me where to turn off the Interstate, Jeeves!"

"You're 'Jeeves'! You're doing the driving!"

"Well, pardon me, SIR! In which direction should I point your limousine?"

"West, Jeeves, go west!" Mike looked at the map and Tom revved up the 'Bago'."

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When Jeff and Johnny had flown to Briarwood to see about the twins, they had left their SUV at the Montpelier airport, to be there when they returned. Their return tickets to Mackintosh had increased from two adult fares to three adult fares and two infants'. Dale, the registered nurse and temporary nanny for the twins, had never been this far north before. The sight of the large green mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire captivated him. Everything looked so clean. When he stepped out of the plane, the air seemed fresher to him, as if it had been deodorized with some mountain spray.

Everything was so green and clean looking. This was a great place to rear children, especially two that almost had an unhappy ending before their young lives had a chance to grow up. Dale had never seen a gay couple so much in love as Jeff and Johnny. He'd had long relationships, but none of them were ever as close as the two new adoptive fathers.

When Johnny unlocked the SUV, he saw two infant car cribs, which instantly surprised him, as well as Jeff. They knew that neither of them had ordered them, but there they were, in the back section of the van, just the same. Dale carefully placed the twins in the bassinettes and got into the back seat with the babies as Jeff got into the passenger seat and Johnny into the driver's seat, respectively. Dale's luggage and the two small bags that Jeff and Johnny had taken with them to Briarwood had been placed in the rear of the vehicle, and off the five of them went to Mackintosh...to home.

They arrived at their house shortly before 6:30 PM. Johnny had stopped at a local store to buy baby formula and diapers and everything else he could pile into the shopping cart. The babies were quiet and slept soundly during the drive from Montpelier. Jeff couldn't look at the road, he kept his head turned toward the cribs, just in case one of the twins did something that he might miss. Johnny was almost as bad, as he kept looking into the rear view mirror to get a glance of his two new sons.

Johnny pulled the van into the driveway and the three adults got out while the new parents carefully lifted the babies into their arms to carry them into their new home. They quietly made their way up the steps and the babies would've stayed asleep, had it not been for the loud, "SURPRISE!" that greeted them as Jeff opened the door.

The sudden shout awoke both babies, but, amazingly, neither cried. Instead, their little-old-man faces were wreathed in smiles, their eyes darting from one face to another.

Alex, Ted, Scott, Andy, Larry, and countless other friends, neighbors, and parishioners rushed forward with hugs, greetings, and a chance to see the newest residents of Mackintosh.

"Good Lord!" Jeff screamed. "Alex! Ted! What is this?"

"I see you found the car cribs," Alex said, excitedly.

"I should have known it was you," Jeff said, love filling his voice.

"Thanks, brother and Mr. Mayor," Johnny added.

Jeff and Johnny took a few minutes to introduce Dale to everyone and soon, Dale felt as if he were a long-time resident. The crowd hovered around the twins with countless, "oohs", "ahhs", and "goo-goos".

"Alex, how did you know that we got...I mean, how did you know to invite everyone to...how did you know when we would...?"

"We have the same father, bro, remember? I think he made more long-distance calls to Ted and me than we ever did to him and Daddy Dave!" Alex said, "Now would you and Johnny hush and stop asking so many questions? There's something I want you to see."

Alex took Jeff by the hand as Ted took Johnny's hand and the crowd parted as the four of them made their way down the hallway to the last door on the right.

"OK, bro, open it!" Alex said to Jeff.

"What?"

"Open the fucking door! I said."

Jeff turned the knob of his old study and was startled by the change in the decor since he had seen it on Monday. The room was a beautiful shade of blue with hand-carved baby beds, chests, bureaus, etc.

"This is the best we could do in three days," Alex said.

"Alex, how did you...?"

"Oh, I didn't do it. Larry and the others did all the work. They stayed up for three nights getting the nursery ready!"

"The chests?" Johnny said. "Are they hand-carved?"

"Out of genuine New Hampshire timber," Ted said, "Bob, Terrance, Lesley, and Clark did it with their own hands."

It was difficult to tell who was more choked up with tears, Jeff, Johnny, or Dale, who was wiping both of his eyes, happily drowning in all the love he felt from all sides.

The babies were placed in the side-by-side beds with blue satin sheets and pillows, topped with baby blue cashmere blankets. Vernon Barkley had hand-painted cherubs and seraphim along the borders of the ceiling and above each bed. The ceiling was painted with clouds with tiny faces of lambs peeking through the billows. Later, Johnny would remark that it reminded him of a child's Sistine Chapel.

"Are you pleased?" Alex said, "I know it was a bit risky to decorate without yours and Johnny's input on the nursery, but, after all, they're MY nephews!"

"Alex, I would've been pleased if you had painted it bright red with green polka dots, just knowing that you had done it for Johnny and me. Of course I love it! We're brothers with the same tastes, aren't we?"

"Not in everything. I mean, our choices in husbands differed."

"We didn't choose Johnny and Ted, Bro, God had them chosen for us, years ago."

"Let me show Dale his room. He's probably exhausted from the flight," Johnny said.

"Not before I feed the children," Dale said, as he made his way into the kitchen to unpack the groceries Johnny had bought.

Jeff looked at all his friends, standing with pride and their eyes full of tears. "I want to thank all of you. You already know that I love each and everyone of you. I hope I can in some way return the love you've, once again, shown to Johnny and me...and now to our two boys. I guess that all of you know that you're ALL adopted 'uncles' and the boys will grow up to love you just the same as I do."

"Are you still having confessions tomorrow, Father Jeff?"

"James Aubrey! What have you done that you need to confess?" Jeff looked at him sternly, but in a kidding manner.

"I heard him swear and take the Lord's name in vain when he banged his finger with a hammer!" Bob Wilhoit said.

"In that case, I think the good Lord will forgive you, seeing the wonderful job you did on the nursery!" Jeff said.

"He didn't bang it here, Father, he was at home, building a new cabinet in his bathroom!" Bob replied.

"Oh? That IS different," Jeff joked, "I suppose I WILL have to hear confessions tomorrow before Sunday mass."

"Are you guys gonna talk all day?" Ted asked. "We've fixed one whale of a supper and I, for one, am ready to eat!"

"Gentlemen, the mayor has made a proclamation," Johnny said. "Let's eat!" He and Jeff turned to kiss the two babes, fast asleep again.

The hugging and camaraderie continued as they all made their way into the kitchen and dining room to fill their plates with broiled chicken, wild rice, dressing, and of course, sautéed broccoli.

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The producers had been quietly looking for a replacement for the actor playing the role of "Harry Beaton" in the new Broadway production of "Brigadoon". From the orchestra pit where he was conducting the show nightly, Timmy watched the current "Harry", a young dancer named Ian Sumner, as Ian grew thinner and more pallid with each performance. Rob had mentioned to Timmy that he thought Ian might be ill. Both Rob and Timmy expressed fear that Ian might be HIV-positive...or worse.

Carl Landowski, the director and choreographer of the show had noticed Ian's dancing becoming tired and heavy. He talked with Rob and Timmy about Ian. That was when Rob and Timmy decided to invite Ian to their apartment on West 75th Street for Sunday dinner, the only night that the show was dark. Ian accepted and was asked to bring a friend or lover, if he wished to do so.

Timmy spent Sunday afternoon preparing a huge meal for Ian, who was scheduled to arrive at six-thirty. By eight o'clock, Ian had not arrived and Rob and Timmy had become concerned. Rob phoned Ian's apartment and got no answer.

"Maybe he got caught in traffic if he took a cab instead of the subway," Timmy said to Rob as Rob hung up the phone, a questioning look on his face.

"I'll wait until nine and if we've received no word from him by then, I'm going to his place to see if anything's wrong," Rob replied.

Timmy agreed on the plan. "Have you talked with Alex since Friday night?"

"Yes, he called just after he and Ted returned from Jeff's. He said the twins were adorable. He said that they look like Jeff and Johnny both, as if they were results of having artificially inseminated the mother. Alex was beside himself with glee. I only wish we could get a break and go to Mackintosh and see them all," Rob said.

"When's the christening?" Timmy asked. "Maybe we could get away after the Saturday show and fly up for the christening on Sunday, whichever Sunday that Jeff and Johnny choose, and make it back early Monday morning?"

"I'm so glad you said that! Those were my thoughts exactly, only I hadn't mentioned them to you. I think it's a great idea!"

"Walter and Dave must be tickled pink, especially Walt. Now he has his very own grandsons!"

"I told you about the nursery that the parishioners of Mackintosh built, didn't I?"

"About a dozen times, dummy!" Timmy said, smiling

"It's just that...that I'm so happy for Jeff and Johnny. They've worked so hard in re-establishing lives for the Mackintosh residents. They've needed some happiness and joy in their lives."

"Rob, will you listen to yourself! Do you think anything could have given the two of them more happiness than giving hope to a whole town of AIDS victims--people who had already accepted their doom?"

"No, Jeff and Johnny are so much alike. What surprised me most was when Alex and Ted moved to Mackintosh. Alex had worked miracles at the Center and Ted...MAYOR TED? The big sports promoter? In his own way, Ted's the most amazing of them all."

"Alex almost lost Ted in his accident. Ted needed something to give new meaning to his life...and he found it!"

"Do you ever find yourself envying them?"

"You mean do I ever feel like the kid shoveling elephant shit at the circus?"

"You got my meaning, babe! Do you ever wish we would get out of show business and find a little place like Mackintosh and settle down with kids of our own?"

"And retire to the country and grow old, reading yesterday's 'Variety'?"

"Yes."

"Not really. God gave us both musical gifts and I don't feel as if we've used them enough to throw our talents away back in God's face."

"Oh, my! You sound as if you've been talking with Father Cliff. Have you?"

"No, but I would like to."

"Well, that settles it! We're going to the christening where I can see the twins and you can talk with Father Cliff. In the meanwhile, where is Ian? It's almost nine o'clock!" They found themselves brought suddenly back to reality.

"I guess we'd better go over to his apartment. He lives on East 86th, doesn't he?"

"East 85th, just off Park."

"Get your coat and let's go!"

Traffic was not really bad for a Sunday evening. It took Rob and Timmy less than fifteen minutes to arrive at Ian's place. They got out of the cab and walked to the landing of Ian's brownstone building and rang the buzzer on the mailbox. They waited and got no reply.

Soon, a blonde in her late 50's came down the street and walked up to where Timmy and Rob were standing. She took a look at the two strangers and asked, "Are you here to see someone in this building?"

"Yes. Ian Sumner," Rob replied. "He was supposed to have dinner with the two of us nearly three hours ago and when we didn't hear from him, we came over by cab to check on him. Do you know him?"

"Yes, I'm Esther Waters, his landlady," she said.

"I'm..."

"I know who you are," she said. "I know both of you. I've seen 'Brigadoon' five times and loved it more each time that I saw it. Ian let me use his house seats. I've been worried about him lately. He doesn't seem quite like himself. His cheeks are peaked, almost anemic-looking."

"We've noticed that, too, Ms. Waters," Timmy said.

"If you'd like to come up with me, I'll be happy to go with you to check on him. He's such a nice boy."

"Thanks, Ms. Waters, that would be great!" Rob added, momentary relief in his voice.

The three of them took the stairs to the second floor and Esther tapped lightly on Ian's door. There was no answer. She tapped again, only louder. Still nothing. The next time, she knocked rather loudly.

"Do you think we should go in and check on him?" Esther said. "I have a master key."

"I think that's a good idea," Timmy offered.

Esther placed her key into the door and opened it slowly. The apartment was dark except for a light glowing from the bathroom. Rob and Timmy walked toward the bathroom door and noticed Ian lying naked on the floor in front of the lavatory. Timmy rushed to Ian, knelt at his side, and felt for his pulse.

"He's alive!" Timmy announced darkly, "but I don't know for how long."

"Good heavens!" Esther exclaimed. "I KNEW he was sick!"

"I'm calling an ambulance!" Rob said, hurrying to the phone to dial, '911'.

In the meanwhile, Timmy had moistened a washcloth and began to bathe Ian's face with cool water. He also placed a towel over Ian's privates so that Esther wouldn't be offended by Ian's nudity.

"If he's bleeding anywhere, don't get any of his blood on you!" Rob yelled from the phone.

"He's NOT bleeding. I don't think he hit his head when he fell, he just seems to have fainted," Timmy called to Rob.

"The ambulance should be here in five or ten minutes!" Robb said, excitedly as he returned to the bathroom. "Let's see if we can find a pair of his shorts and put them on him before the paramedics arrive. I'm sure that they will take him to the hospital.

It was Esther who went to rummage through the drawers of Ian's bureau looking for a 'modesty' garment. "Here's a pair!" she announced, "a nice pair of boxers!". She handed them to Timmy.

With Rob's help, Timmy managed to tug the shorts onto Ian's lower torso while Esther pretended not to look. Rob went into Ian's bedroom to get a blanket from the bed to wrap around Ian in case Ian should go into shock. The NYEMS arrived within minutes and checked Ian's vitals before hoisting him onto a gurney to take him to the ambulance. Timmy gave as much information as he could to the accompanying police officer. Esther remained behind to lock up Ian's apartment while Rob and Timmy took a cab to the hospital.

"Has he ever mentioned his family or did he have a boy- or girl-friend?" Timmy asked Rob in the taxi. "I always assumed he was gay."

"You mean just because he's a dancer? Timmy, you know better than that. Maybe thirty years ago all male dancers WERE gay, but now? It's impossible to tell...even straights and gays give off the same 'gaydar' messages."

"You can't get over the fact that James chose Wes over Michael on 'Boy Meets Boy'."

"Well, James was just as confused as I, and he met and talked with them in person!"

"All I can say is thank God, the reality series on TV are coming to a halt and we can get back to plot lines and stories!"

"Amen to that!"

The taxi arrived at the hospital. Rob tipped the driver and he and Timmy rushed into the emergency room where they waited for four hours. Finally, a nurse came out to talk with the two of them.

"Are you family members?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Rob replied, "just friends and co-workers. We're in the same Broadway show."

"Brigadoon!" the nurse exclaimed. "I've seen it three times. I thought you were 'Tommy' when I first saw you. You sing beautifully!"

"Thanks," Rob said, trying to appear modest. "And this is Tim..."

"The conductor! I sat in the third row the last time I went. The other two times, I only saw the back of your head while you were conducting the orchestra."

"Then, you must remember Ian as well," Timmy said.

"Ian?"

"The guy who's your patient. Ian Sumner, the lead dancer."

"My God, I never would have recognized him. He is so much thinner and his face is gaunt."

"Is there any word on his condition?" Rob asked, getting a bit impatient.

"Oh, he's awake now. You can go into to see him if you like."

"Thanks, Miss...?"

"Miss Stanley, Emily Stanley."

"Thanks, Miss Stanley."

"Here, let me escort you into his cubicle."

Rob and Timmy followed her through the panel doors which led down a corridor of cubicles, separated one from another only by white hospital drapes. Ian was in a hospital bed with the back elevated into an almost sitting position. There was an IV dripping into his right arm. He was wearing a hospital gown over the boxer shorts which Esther had chosen from Ian's bureau.

"Hi, guys," Ian spoke weakly. "I guess I'm late for dinner."

"Don't worry," Rob joked, "if they haven't fed you here, we'll send over the leftovers. Boy, you surely gave us a good scare."

"I'm just glad that you found me. I asked the nurse how I got here and she described the two of you."

"What happened?" Timmy asked. "Did you suddenly get sick and pass out?"

"No, Tim, I've been sick for quite a few weeks. I was hoping that no one in the cast would notice it."

"Is is anything serious?" Timmy asked. "I mean, you don't have...?"

"AIDS? HIV? No, I don't have either of them, thank God." Ian replied.

"Then what is it?"

"You remember when the producer offered us to sign up for company insurance a few months back?"

"Yes, we both signed up for it," Rob said.

"Well, the insurance company insisted that we all have physical exams. I hope I'm wrong, but I felt that this was the company's way of finding out who of the cast might be HIV positive. I'd had a couple of dizzy spells and thought I needed a check up just for the hell of it. I suspected I might have diabetes or something. Then, a couple of weeks later, my doctor got the results from my blood tests. I didn't have AIDS and I was HIV negative, but he discovered that I have chronic hepatitis C."

"Can't you get a vaccination for that?" Timmy asked.

"For hepatitis A and B, you can, but there is no vaccination for C."

"What can be done for it? How dangerous is it? I mean, is it as contagious as ordinary hepatitis?"

"There are treatments available, such as Interferon, the same chemotherapy used for cancer. And it's only ninety-nine percent contagious if you've been exposed to body fluids, almost the same as HIV or AIDS. If not treated, it can develop into liver cirrhosis or stomach cancer and all you can do is wait and see if it takes a turn for the worse. I've been trying to treat it with diet and vitamin tablets, but I guess my system just sort 'broke down' from all the dancing and physical activity during the show. Many times in the past two weeks, I've almost asked for a leave of absence or tendered a resignation so that I could manage the 'hep C', or least until I felt better."

"Were you exposed to contaminated blood or something?" Rob asked.

"I don't think so. I could've been, but you see, you can get it the same way you get AIDS, from anal intercourse."

Timmy gave Rob a quick glance.

"I know both of you are lovers. Hell, who doesn't?" Ian spoke, "I mean, you two are the happiest married couple I've ever seen."

"Are we THAT obvious?" Rob asked.

"Only to those of us who have never known the happiness that you two have." Rob and Timmy smiled at him. "NOW, about the show! I know that Lennie, my understudy can take over my role. He's been dying backstage every night, waiting for me to fall on a sword during the sword dance and I haven't missed a performance, so I know he'll be happy."

"That's good that you've got that figured out," Rob said, "but what about you? Are you going to seek treatment? Will your insurance cover the Interferon?"

"I didn't get the insurance. It was pending on my physical exam results."

"How much are the shots or however they give Interferon to you?"

"It depends on where I go to get treatment. It can be as little as four or five hundred bucks per pop all the way up to thousands of dollars...which will be ALL cash out of my pocket, which unfortunately, I do not have."

"You need money for treatment?"

"Not unless I can find a gay doctor who will trade me Interferon for some choreographed blow jobs," Ian joked.

Rob looked at Timmy and they both thought the same thing at the same time.

"Ian, will you excuse me for a minute? I...I have to make a phone call I forgot to make earlier."

"Sure, where am I going? It looks like I'm gonna be out of a job beginning tonight."

"Timmy, stay with Ian and cheer him up. I'll be right back."

There was a row of old-fashioned phone booths in the hospital waiting room...the kind that would let one close the door and talk in private. Rob entered a booth and dialed.

"Hello?" Cliff answered.

"Father Cliff?"

"Rob? Is that you? Is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no. I wanted to call and see if Roger was home."

"No, Rob, he's at Cole. Is Timmy sick?"

"No."

"Dear God! Don't tell me that you have another 'Agnes' running around with a knife in New York."

"No, thank God, and thanks to you. Agnes is gone forever! I was calling about a friend of ours. You remember Ian Sumner, the guy who played 'Harry Beaton' when you and Roger saw the show?"

"That brilliant dancer! How could I forget him? Has something happened to him?"

"Well, yes and no. He's ill, Father. He's ill and can't afford treatment and I wanted to ask Roger to see where he should go to get treatment."

"He's HIV positive?"

"Oh, no. He's completely negative. He has hepatitis C."

"My God, Rob, they treat that every day at Cole. It's almost as rampant as HIV among the gay population. As a matter of fact more cases of hepatitis C goes unnoticed, unreported, and untreated than HIV."

"That's what I wanted to know...I mean, if Dr. Ed at Cole..."

"Rob, for God's sake, you're one of my Briarwood boys. You and Timmy are Roger's and my family, one of our sons. Do you think you have to call to seek help for a friend? If you can get him on the next flight to Briarwood, I'll call Ed and have a room ready for him at Cole or Roger will as soon as he gets home."

"In my heart, that's what I knew you'd say. Maybe I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice and hear you say it to me."

"Well, I said it and I mean it, about getting Ian up here ASAP. Why don't you and Timmy come with him?"

"Once in the highlands, the highlands of Scotland," Rob began to sing.

"I know, the show MUST go on, but I miss you both."

"And we miss you, too," Rob said. "Oh, we're coming down for Jeff and Johnny's twins' christening."

"That's the best news I've heard all day. I only hope that Jeff and Johnny pick out a date soon."

"I bet all the Briarwood boys are waiting to hear the date."

"I haven't heard what they're naming the twins, yet."

"I think Alex and Ted are going to name them when you christen them."

"I hope Alex can overrule Ted's decision, otherwise, the kids will be named Maris and Mantel."

"Or Montana and Aikman," Rob added, laughing. "Whatever they choose, you know that Jeff and Johnny will oversee the names or there could be a big rift between the Clayton brothers."

"I don't think that will ever happen," Cliff said. "Now call me the minute you make a flight reservation for Ian so I can have someone meet him at the airport!"

"I will, Father,...and thanks."

"No reason to thank me. I love you and Timmy."

"Same here. You know, I've done over two hundred performances of 'Brigadoon', but every night, as I begin to sing, 'From This Day On', I think of you and Uncle Roger and always get choked up."

"Roger and I LOVED the show and the rest of you Briarwood brothers did... and we're all proud of you and so happy for you both."

"Thanks, Father. Goodnight."

"Good night, son."

A grin was beaming from ear to ear on Rob's face when he returned to Ian and Timmy.

"Get up!" Rob said.

"What?"

"I said, get up! You have a plane to catch!"

"Rob, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're going to a little town called Briarwood where they have a great big hospital at the Cole Institute and they have a bed waiting on you there to get you well and back to the show before our run ends."

"You called Roger?" Timmy asked.

"Nope. He was at the Institute, but I DID talk with Father Cliff. And one of them is going to call Dr. Ed."

"Who are Father Cliff, Roger, and Dr. Ed?" Ian asked.

"Well, Father Cliff and his partner, 'Uncle Roger' are Timmy's and my parents. Doctor Ed runs Roger`s hospital, the Cole Institute in Briarwood."

"Your what?"

"He's right," Timmy said. "And if anyone can get you well, it's our two fathers and Dr. Ed. They have special powers over young men who are sick."

"I don't know what either of you is talking about."

"You will," Rob said. "Do you suppose he'll be a Briarwood boy when he gets back to New York?"

"Probably, if Father Cliff has anything to do with it."

"What's a Briarwood boy?"

"Shut up and let's call the nurse to get that needle out of your arm so that we can go to your place and pack you a bag or two."

"But..."

"No 'buts,'" Rob said and yelled to Miss Stanley, "NURSE!!!"

<><><><><><><><>

The long, exhausting, and frightening day had been too much for Lee. He had heard Dr. Gonzalez all but predict his death, he had said goodbye to his brother AND to Fort Stockton, he had hitched a ride as far as Fort Worth with a stranger, a truck driver and as the miles drifted behind him, he had become rather sleepy and had dozed off in the seat of the semi- while the stranger drove. The driver's name was Joe. Lee must have been lonely or needed the comfort of a human touch, for, as he slept, he had crawled closer to the driver and rested his head on the driver's right thigh. Lee's cozy action did not disturb the driver as he said to himself while stroking Lee's hair, "Poor kid. I wonder what he's running from and where he's running to?"

Lee brought back memories to the driver at the time when he, too, had run away from his drunken father and whiney mother. Joe recalled hitchhiking away from his home that first night when he was sixteen. He had caught a ride from a trucker as well, only before the evening was over, the trucker had taught him nearly everything about male-to-male sex. The trucker had gone down on Joe first and then suggested that he do the same to the trucker. Soon the trucker had parked at a rest stop and had split Joe's anus wide open with his huge cock. Joe was hurting and was in so much pain, he could hardly return the gesture to the trucker who was anxious to feel a sixteen year old's prick plowing his ass.

That was nearly thirty years and thousands of rest-stop-blowjobs ago. It was a weird fraternity that existed between cross-country truckers. Nearly all of them were married with kids of their own, but as soon as they got onto the highway, they were in a man's world. No woman was allowed. Every other trucker's ass, cock, and balls were fair game to any other trucker. Often they would pick up a hitcher and trade a ride for a piece of fresh male ass. Those hitchers who were unwilling to pay the price didn't get a ride...at least not from a trucker.

Most of them were faithful to the wives they had left at home. It wouldn't occur to them to pick up a whore or some willing slut sitting at the counter at the next truck stop diner. That would be committing adultery and cheating on the wife, but sex among themselves was accepted. It wasn't gay sex. Gay sex is what queers did and there was nothing queer about a trucker sucking or fucking his fellow road driver.

Had it been twenty years earlier, Joe would have made Lee pay for the price of his ride to Fort Worth, but Joe had had so many strangers in the night that he had begun to grow weary. There was too much fuss and bother with it now, especially with the new leather and plush interiors that the cabs of the new trucks were equipped with. "There was a time," Joe thought, looking at the innocent boy whose head was in his lap, "that you and I would've had a fine old time, buddy boy. You're just lucky that I don't stay as horny as I used to be."

A coyote crossed the highway in front of Joe's cab and he quickly stepped on his brake to avoid the coyote massacre. The sudden movement of Joe's right leg and foot awoke Lee and he was a bit shocked and embarrassed to see where he had been sleeping. He quickly sat up and assumed his position on the passenger's side.

"Have a good nap?" Joe asked.

"Yes sir, I...I just seemed to've dozed off. I...I'm sorry if I cramped your driving."

"Oh, that's all right. I have a son about your age at home. He used to doze off in my lap that way when I read children's stories to him."

"My dad never read children's stories to me," Lee said, but quickly added, "but he read the Bible to me."

"I guess I'd've done better with MY son, if I'd read the Bible to him."

"Where is he now?"

"He's in a detention home for boys, back in Indiana."

"What did he do?"

"Oh, he started messin' around with a girl that was too young for him. She, uh, she felt she was in love with him. Hell, she was only fourteen...too young to know what love was and she...she wanted Jim, that's my son's name, she wanted Jim to marry her."

"At fourteen? How old was Jim?"

"Jim was fifteen, almost sixteen."

"Gosh! What happened?"

"Well, Jim told her that he was not old enough to get married...and then he made the mistake of tellin' her he didn't love her. Well, that's when she went home and told her daddy that Jim had fucked her."

"She lied?"

"According to Jim, she did, but there was no way to prove it."

"Couldn't they take her to a hospital and see if she, well, to prove that Jim hadn't violated her?"

"Oh, she'd been violated, all right, but not by Jim. I still swear to this day that it was her daddy who'd done it to her. But, NO, it was Jim who she accused and it was her who the judge believed and it was Jim who got sentenced to ten years for doin' it. When he gets eighteen, they'll transfer him out of the detention home and place him in a real prison to serve out the rest of his term."

"Good gracious! Wasn't there anything that anybody could do for Jim?"

"Nope...and that's why he is where he is."

"Wow!"

"You got a girlfriend?"

"No."

"That's good. Don't be messin' around with girls until you're a man. There's still plenty of time left when you're twenty-one. Remember that, son."

"I will."

"Why you goin' to Dallas?"

"To...to visit a friend," Lee lied. "His name is Buddy. He is or was my piano teacher...that is, until he moved to Dallas."

"Does he know you're a'comin'?"

"Yes sir, he's expectin' me."

"Well, I hope you have a nice visit with him."

"Thank you."

"Listen, boy, I have to turn off here about a mile up to go into Fort Worth and get the back of my rig. So do you wanna get out there and see if you can hitch a ride on in to Dallas? It's nearly four o'clock and I don't know how much luck you're gonna have gittin' a ride this time of mornin'. But if anyone stops for you, take a good look at them before you take a ride from them. There's a lot of mean people who'll do nasty things to boys like you, lookin' for a ride. Just be careful."

"I will, sir."

"And when you get to Dallas, stay clear of fourteen year old girls" he added mournfully

"I'll do that too, sir."

Joe pulled his semi cab to the side of the road for Lee to get out. Lee stepped out onto the side of the highway and a gust of cool air mixed with dust hit his face. It seemed strange to be alone on a Texas road very early in the morning and there was not a car in sight, coming or going in either direction. He picked up his suitcase and began walking east toward Dallas. In ten minutes or so, a few cars began to appear on the horizon in front of him, but nothing going in direction in which he was headed.

<><><><><><><>

"Look! There's one!" Eddie screamed as Skip's car sped down the highway.

"One what, asshole?" Skip yelled.

"A faggot! I seen one of 'em walkin' along side of the road."

"Numbnuts! That was just a hitchhiker! Not all hitchhikers are faggots. I seem to remember seein' you hitchin' a ride or two. Were you a faggot lookin' for a ride or some dick?"

"Eat shit and die, Skip!" Eddie hollered at him.

"He might've been one, Skip," Jerry said. "We ain't seen hide nor hair of anybody else for the past hour. Why don't you turn around and see if he's a faggot and get your rocks off so's we can go home. Fuck! It's gonna be daylight soon!"

"All right, we'll go see...but if he AIN'T one, I might have to plow one of your asses if you want to get home in such a hurry!"

Skip did a one-eighty turn with his car and headed back in the opposite direction. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to catch up with the hitcher. Lee turned around to see a pickup with three boys in the seat. He immediately stuck out his thumb.

"Hey, boy!" Jerry screamed from the window. "Whereya goin'?"

"Dallas!" Lee yelled back.

"It's kinda late to be on an open highway, isn't it?"

"I gotta ride as far as the turn off to Fort Worth. I haven't been walkin' that far. I just started."

"Whacha got in that suitcase? Gold bars or cocaine? You a smuggler?"

"No, just my clothes and stuff."

"Wouldja like us to give ya a ride?"

"Yes, that would be great!"

"What about it, Skip, you wanna give a smuggler a free ride to Dallas?"

"Ask him if he's got any gas money!" Skip said.

"Hey, Huck Finn! You got any money to buy some gas if we take ya?"

"Yes, sure."

"He's got money, Skip. So, do we give him a ride or not."

"Does he look like a faggot to you?" Skip asked in a low voice.

"Shit, I don't know. Just what is a faggot supposed to look like? Is he supposed to have some neon sign on his back of somethin'?"

"You can tell by the way they talk...real sissified. Does he sound sissified?"

"Yes, if you want me to say it, he SOUNDS sissified! Do you want to pick him up or not?"

"Tell him to put his suitcase in the truck bed and git in," Skip said, finally.

"Okay, Huck, you got yourself a ride. Throw your bag in the back and jump up here between us!"

Lee placed his suitcase in the truck bed while Eddie jumped out of the passenger side door to let Lee in first.

"Huck, you slide in between him and me, I always ride shotgun," Eddie said to him.

Lee got in and scooted close to Jerry. Eddie reentered the cab and slammed the door, pushing Lee even closer to Jerry and crowding Lee to the extent of feeling uncomfortable. Now all four of them were squeezed together in the seat of the truck. Skip took time to size up Lee before moving his pickup.

"What's your real name, Huck?" Skip asked.

"Lee."

"You mean like in the blue jeans?"

"What?"

"Lee Jeans! Don't you have a pair?"

"No."

"Shit! Everybody in Texas wears Lee jeans. You must not be a Texan. Whereya from?"

"I was born in Fort Stockton...lived there all my life," Lee replied, trying his best to be friendly and not show fear. "I got a pair of Levis in my suitcase."

"Hell, that's what Texans USED to wear. Now it's Lee's or all cowboys go nekkid!"

Jerry and Eddie laughed at Skip's joke, but Lee only managed a smile.

"Fort Stockton, huh?"

"Yes."

"Hey, guys, didn't we give a ride to someone from Fort Stockton...a few weeks ago, didn't we?"

Eddie and Jerry eyed one another before answering.

"Yeah, I think we did, Skip. He was goin' to Dallas, too."

"What's happenin', Lee," Skip chided. "Everyone from Fort Stockton movin' to Dallas? What is it? Some kind of immigration goin' on over there?"

"MIGRATION!" Jerry said, correcting Skip.

"Not migration, asshole," Skip snapped, "that's what birds do, jerkwad, didn't you learn nothin' in school? What was that guy's name, we gave the ride to?"

"I don't remember," Jerry replied, nonchalantly.

"It was Bobby, Robby, or somethin' like that," Eddie offered.

"BUDDY!" Skip yelled, "That's it! Buddy! Hey, Lee you know some guy from Fort Stockton named Buddy?"

Mentioning his friend's name, gave Lee a ray of hope. Maybe one of these guys knew where they dropped off Buddy."

"Yeah, I had a piano teacher named Buddy. He moved to Dallas a few weeks ago. Do you suppose it was him? What did the guy look like when you last saw him?"

'A friend of Buddy's, huh?' Skip thought. 'Looks like I got lucky and found me a faggot on my first try. Goddamn! What a bull's-eye!'.

"Oh, he didn't look too good the last time we saw him, did he guys?" Skip said. "He was sick and had an awful headache."

"Did you take him to a hospital or anything?"

"Nope, he never made it that far, did he, guys?" Eddie replied, getting in on Skip's joke.

"What do you mean, 'he never made it that far'? Did he get car sick and have to get out before he got to Dallas?"

"Yes sir, that's exactly what happened!" Skip said.

"Did you just leave him there...I mean, on the side of the road?"

"No...it was a little further off the road, wouldn't you say, guys?"

"It was plumb clean OFF the road...WAY off!" Eddie added.

Lee was beginning to get frightened and alarmed. He suddenly wished he had never accepted a ride from these three young strangers.

"Did any of you at least go see about him?" Lee asked.

"Oh, naw!," Skip said, "I think just after that, I seen him fall."

"That's right, he fell," Eddie said and quickly added, "I think that's when he hit his head on a rock or something."

"That's right, Eddie," Jerry chimed in, "I remember it now! He hit his head and there was blood pouring out of it, you know, like when you shake up a beer and pop the top. It spews. Your friend's blood was spewin' out of his head like a can of Bud. Hey, that's pretty good! Like a can of Bud...only it was Buddy." Jerry laughed and Eddie joined him.

"You know what?" Skip asked his two compatriots, "Buddy never paid us for the ride."

"I'm sure he would've. He had money in his pocket the last time I saw him."

"Oh, he wasn't gonna pay in cash," Skip said. "He was gonna pay me another way."

"You mean he didn't give you that blow job he offered you, when you was so nice to him?"

"No, and I didn't get to fuck his little ass, either."

"That wasn't very nice of him, not to pay his debt," Eddie chided.

"How about you, Huck? Lee? Or whatever the fuck your name is...do you give blow jobs like your friend?"

"No, I don't!" Lee said, sternly.

"How about your little ass? Ever been fucked?"

"No! NO! I HAVEN'T!"

"Well, how would you feel about paying me what your friend owed me?" Skip asked.

"I told you that I have money and I would pay for the gas!"

"I don't want your money. I want a piece of Fort Stockton chicken. My dick's kinda hungry!"

"PLEASE!" Lee began to plead. "I'd like to get out of the truck now."

"Oh, no! It's much too dangerous to leave a young kid like you all alone this time of a morning on a deserted Texas highway."

Skip revved up the motor and headed out across a wide-open space when looked vaguely like a desert with tall cactus.

"Where are you taking me? I wanna get out! PLEASE!"

Skip ignored Lee's pleas and drove faster, farther into the wasteland.

"You know what your friend tried to do to us?"

"No, I don't!"

"He tried to kill us.

"Buddy tried to kill all three of you? How? He didn't have a gun so far as I knew. He was always afraid of guns."

"Oh no! He had a new way of killing all of us...just by getting his infected blood on us. He told us he had AIDS and if the blood got on us, we'd get it too. Now to me, that was definitely a threat on our lives."

"What happened?" Lee asked, his voice quivering.

"Well, it was just a matter of self defense. We had to kill him before he killed us?"

"YOU KILLED BUDDY? BUDDY'S DEAD?"

"He appeared to be when we left him for the buzzards and coyotes."

As difficult as it was NOT to cry, Lee couldn't help himself. Tears poured from his eyes upon hearing of the murder of his friend. Suddenly he was even more afraid, because he realized that Buddy's fate might soon be his own.

Skip stopped his pickup with a jolt and Eddie opened the passenger door and he and Jerry wrestled Lee out of the cab and threw him to the rocky and sandy ground until Skip could get out of his side of the vehicle to join them. Lee was screaming, "STOP! STOP! STOP!" while shedding buckets of tears.

"Whacha gonna do to him?" Jerry asked Skip.

"First I think we oughta take off his clothes and get him good and nekkid."

Eddie reached to feel for the buttons of Lee's shirt, which was pressed between Lee's body and the dirt.

"Not that way, farthead!"

Skip reached for a hunting knife, which he wore in a scabbard on his western belt. The shiny knife blade glistened from the headlights of the truck.

"HOLD HIM DOWN!" Skip ordered to Jerry and Eddie, "I don't want to cut him and get AIDS blood all over me, just in case he got AIDS from his piano teacher."

Jerry and Eddie placed their knees on Lee's outstretched arms and shoulders while Skip knelt between Lee's legs. Lee took his knife and inserted it at the end of Lee's pants leg and slowly sliced the material all the way to Lee's butt. Then he did the same thing with the other pants leg. Then he cut from the top of one slice to the other, making a split across Lee's butt cheeks. Next he grabbed the pieces of the cut trousers and ripped them hard until Lee's backside was free from his pants except for his leather belt, which Skip sliced in two.

"Now, his shirt!" Skip announced as he took the tail of Lee's shirt and cut it all the way up the back to the collar. Then, he ripped the entire remainder of the shirt off Lee, leaving him only with his shoes, socks, and Fruit-of-the-Loom briefs.

"Now, I wanna see his ass," Skip said, ripping the shorts off Lee's lower torso. Lee was screaming loudly during the whole time of his disrobing.

"Look at that butt!" Skip said, admiring his prey. "Ain't that a pretty one?"

"Skip, you ain't gonna fuck him, are you?" Eddie asked. "What if he's got AIDS too?"

"I came prepared this time. I read up on safe sex. I got two rubbers in my billfold. If I'm careful, it shouldn't matter whether he's got AIDS or hemorrhoids! YESSIR! I'm gonna fuck me a genuine faggot!"

Skip pulled his wallet from his jeans and retrieved two Trojan packets, tore one of them open, opened his fly, pulled out his penis, and began to make himself "safe" for anal sex.

"My God, Skip!" Jerry exclaimed, "From the size of your dick, you're so big and horny, you're gonna split this kid's ass wide open!"

"That was my intention, exactly!" Skip replied. "Now hold him down good, while I make him a new asshole!"

As Skip came forward to place himself at the opening of Lee's anus, Lee suddenly was able to pull his knees up under him and with one last ditch effort, he landed a fierce blow with his shoes on his feet, right into Skip's naked scrotum. Skip didn't see Lee's action coming and he fell backward with a thud, writhing in pain, and grabbing his aching testicles.

Jerry and Eddie were so surprised at what they had seen, they reached for their fallen friend while Lee rose to his feet and began running as fast as he could toward the highway that Skip had just turned off. The cool morning air made Lee realize the when Skip opened the back of his shirt with the knife, he had cut Lee's skin up his spine and he was bleeding. He could feel the hot blood running down his back and into the crack of his butt.

Fortunately for Lee, he still had his shoes on, although the rest of his fleeing body was naked. He had never been a track star like his brother Jake, but Lee was running with all his might, running for his life. Skip was in too much pain to run after Lee, but Lee got about twenty feet ahead of Jerry and Eddie as they began to chase after him.

Somehow Lee managed to run as far as the deserted highway. He headed east toward Dallas and ran about fifty yards, with Jerry and Eddie close at his heels. There was an elevation in the road ahead, which went around a curve. Just as Lee approached the curve, he saw two big headlights coming from the opposite direction. The lights belonged to a big semi or an RV. Lee ran down the middle of the highway for the oncoming vehicle.

The RV saw Lee running and stopped as fast as possible, about fifteen feet from the naked Lee. The door of the vehicle opened and out stepped Tom Summerfield, wearing only a pair of Addida shorts and running shoes. The sun was beginning to rise and Tom's muscular bare chest appeared as if he were wearing an armor made of human skin. No sooner was Tom running toward Lee than Mike stepped from the RV, dressed the same as Lee, his huge pectorals bulging the same as his lover's.

"What's going on?" Tom cried out to Lee.

"HELP ME! OH, PLEASE HELP ME! THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!" Lee yelled.

"Who, for God's sake?" Tom screamed at Lee."

"THEM...THOSE TWO!" Lee replied pointing at his chasers.

Seeing the two muscular hunks get out of the van halted Jerry and Eddie in their tracks.

"Who the fuck are they?" Jerry exclaimed to Eddie. "Batman and Robin?"

"Or worse!" Eddie added.

"WORSE IS RIGHT!" Tom yelled at them. "What the fuck are you doing to this boy?" Tom walked toward Eddie and Jerry.

"Well, we're just having a little fun with him!" Eddie replied with a nervous grin.

"Looks to me as if you were trying to harm him, from the blood running down his back!"

"Oh, that!" Jerry said, "he fell down while we were running after him. It was all in fun!"

"That's not true!" Lee screamed. "They killed my best friend and now they're trying to kill me. There's another one of them, lying out there in the desert!"

"Three against one, huh?" Tom asked as Mike joined his side. "Looks like the odds are more even now...it's three against three!"

"Ah, shit, man, we got no beef with you. You ain't gonna fight us, are you?"

"For starters, I might!" Tom said, holding his ground. Then he turned to Mike. "Mike, get on the phone and dial '911'. I don't know if the Fort Worth or Dallas police will answer, but whichever does, tell 'em to send a highway patrol car out here.

"You bet I will!" Mike said, "You gonna be all right?"

"I think so! If I can play quarterback against eleven Bruins, I ought to be able to handle two punks!"

"Come on," Mike said to Lee, "let's get you cleaned up and get some clothes on you."

"Don't touch me!" Lee said, "I mean, don't let my blood get on you. I...I think I got AIDS!"

"Don't worry about that!" Mike assured him. "I've been through that already and I'm immune to AIDS!"

Lee gave Mike a puzzled look and followed him inside the Winnebago. Neither Tom, Jerry, nor Eddie had moved an inch.

"If either of you has any idea of trying to run away from me, I can run the dash faster than either of you."

There was a scuffling sound behind Jerry and Eddie. It was Skip coming toward them, still holding his crotch.

"Oh, is that the third musketeer?" Tom asked, seeing Skip.

"Who the fuck are you?" Skip cried at Tom.

"Well, since it's morning and you haven't been to sleep apparently, I can't be your worst nightmare, so I guess I'm your worst wake-up call!" Tom said. "I heard you guys murdered someone. Is that right?"

"I didn't!" Jerry said, "it was him!" pointing at Eddie.

"Did you see it?" Tom asked.

"Yeah."

"Did you report it to the police?"

"No."

"Then that makes you an accessory to murder!" Tom said to Jerry, and then looked at Skip. "Were you there too, when your friend, here, murdered someone?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have anything to do with it!"

"You're still an accessory after the fact."

"What the fuck is it to you, anyway?" Skip yelled at Tom.

"I'll answer that when you tell me why this kid that you were chasing had no clothes on? You weren't trying to rape him, were you? You know murder gives gays a bad reputation."

"We ain't gay!" Skip said, "And we ain't queers, neither."

"Thank God for the gay community's sake, anyway." Tom replied. "So what were you planning to do to him without his clothes?"

"Skip was gonna rape him!" Eddie cried out.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Skip hollered at Eddie.

"Attempted rape AND murder," Tom said. "I hear that Texas laws are not too lenient on those crimes. You'll probably get the electric chair or the gas chamber!"

"I ain't gettin' neither, you son-of-a-bitch!" Skip hollered making a lunge with his fist toward Tom.

Tom's huge palm grabbed Skip's fist and Tom bent Skip's wrist backward until his body crumpled to the ground. With his other fist, Skip aimed at Tom's crotch, which Tom counteracted by raising his knee hitting Skip solidly under his chin. Trying to defend Skip, Jerry and Eddie ran quickly toward Tom as Tom took one of each of their wrists and twisted until they were on the ground beside Skip.

"Wanna try something else?" Tom asked, with a warning.

Skip tried to grab Tom's legs for a second assault attempt when Tom kicked Skip squarely in the jaw. For good measure, Tom swung both his fists in opposite directions catching a cheek of both Jerry and Eddie. All three of the fallen attackers were bleeding profusely from various parts of their faces.

Mike came running back to be with Tom. Lee remained safely in the RV.

"Need any help?" Mike asked. "The highway patrol is on its way."

"That's good. Mike, why don't you go inside the van and get some rope from that chest in the back and we'll make sure that these bandidos don't try to escape until the posse arrives."

The situation was serious and dangerous, to say the least, but Mike couldn't remember when he had had more fun. He hadn't seen his hero being so brave and manly since the first night he had seen Tom playing quarterback at Briarwood U. He ran and got the rope. Tom took Skip's knife and cut the rope evenly to tie up the night marauders.

Ten minutes later, official Texas handcuffs replaced the ropes on the three. They were hauled off to the county jail while another squad of officers wrote down the details of the atrocious ordeal.

Soon the highway patrol cars left and Mike and Tom went inside the Winnebago to see to Lee's wounds. Mike had done the best first-aid that he knew how to do, but Lee's back was still bleeding. Tom reached for another bandage but Mike stopped him.

"Uh uh, you can't touch him, but I can!" Mike said. Mike took the gauze and tape and tried to a better job bandaging Lee. Tom asked a multitude of questions at Lee, getting all the facts concerning the possibilities of Lee's having the AIDS virus. Mike told them everything, even about his one and only jerkoff session with Buddy. He told them about Dr. Gonzalez, about his father, the puritanical preacher, about Jake, everything, leaving no stone unturned.

"Sounds as if we'd better go back to Dallas and have Lee admitted to the hospital," Mike said to Tom.

"NO! NO! I can't go there!" Lee said. "I have no money, no insurance, I can't go there, really!"

"Don't worry about a thing!" Mike said, "I know Dr. Frye at the Dallas Center for AIDS. He's chief of staff there, and a good friend of mine. I think he might be willing to do me a favor, if I ask him. I don't think you'll have to worry about money, insurance, or anything else after I talk with him!"

"What are you two guys, some kind of angels?" Lee asked in wonder.

"No, but we know a lot of 'em!" Mike said.

"Come on, guys, buckle up!" Tom said. "We're going to Dallas."

"WAIT! WAIT!" Mike exclaimed at Tom.

"What is it?"

"Would you take the time for me to go outside just once more?"

"For what? What did you lose?"

"Nothing, Tom...but I think I saw a couple of small cacti, growing along the road."

"Now that's a sure fired reason to postpone our journey!" Tom kidded. "For heaven's sake, run outside and dig up a few!"

"Thanks, babe, I won't be but a minute!"

Mike jumped out of the RV with a small spade and two clay pots. He was happy as a prairie jackrabbit.

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(To be continued in "I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes-Six"-chapter-72)