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-four
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"Passion is fine but passion burns fast. Passion's design seems never to last. Better a match, better a blend, He needs a lover--I need a friend.
From "Isn't This Better?"
Written for Barbra Streisand
in "Funny Lady".
Lyrics by Fred Ebb
Music by John Kander
Copyright 1975.
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Steve and Hal had met for breakfast every Sunday at Katie's diner ever since both of them had been old enough to drive a car. Neither set of parents was particularly religious, only attending services at Bethel Baptist Church, very emphatically, on Easter Sunday and Christmas. The rest of the year was hit and miss. It wasn't that the Carter and Jarvis moms didn't fix breakfast for their sons on Sunday; it was just a ritual for the two boys and their friends to congregate and brag or discuss their sexual conquests with their Saturday night fucks, and in livid detail!
Usually Randy, Tyler, and Wade joined them at Katie's, although Wade never had a story to relate. That was okay because the rest of the guys knew that Wade was still a virgin and he made an extra special audience to whom they could describe their pussy passions from the night before. Sometimes, when their girls were having their periods and sex was not all that possible, the guys made up stories just to see Wade's eyes widen and watch his crotch rise as they inventively bragged, watching his crotch from the corner of their eyes. It was all in fun. Randy and Tyler got laid occasionally, usually by girls no one else wanted to fuck...and since Randy and Tyler were eager and willing to ask them out for a Saturday night date, the girls overcompensated the two with extra special favors in appreciation. Whereas Hal might get his usual quick lay with Carolyn, Randy and Tyler were lucky if they got a handjob, a blowjob, or maybe even a fuck, sometimes reaching several orgasms.
It wasn't as if Wade didn't get the chance to get laid, as any of his four friends were more than willing to fix him up, once and for all. There was just something that kept Wade from imbibing in the fruits of female flesh. He'd never offered an explanation, any more than his friends had demanded one from him. They just assumed that with Wade, it might be a religious principle or something to do with the closeness Wade had with his mother.
But this Sunday morning was unlike any of the others. Hal knew exactly where to find Steve. Hal's mind was still reeling from hearing his brother's early morning declaration of love in his sleep. Hal knew that Steve was not queer, nor would he ever think of having queer sex with another guy, but Hal's head was about to explode with curiosity as to where Steve and Noah had gone the night before--and what they had done!
In all the years that Steve and Hal had been best friends, neither of them had ever excluded the other from any social event, but then, yesterday, Hal had purposely not called Steve to play pool with him and the guys and, in like manner, Steve knew that Hal didn't have a date planned with Carolyn, so why hadn't Hal been invited to go 'God know where' with him and his kid brother, Noah?
When Hal arrived at Katie's, Steve was already sitting in their favorite red vinyl booth, which could seat eight on date night. Neither Randy, Wade, nor Tyler was there yet. "Good," Hal thought. This would give him a chance to quiz his best friend and cautiously try to find out what had happened on Steve's second date in a row with Noah.
"Hey, there!" Hal said, as he approached Steve.
Both of them looked bleary-eyed, as if neither of them had slept much for the same, and yet different, reason...NOAH!
"Hey!" Steve answered. "We still talkin'?"
"Whacha mean?"
"I mean that little tiff between you and me at Smiley's yesterday, when you so carefully chose NOT to invite me."
"Hell, Steve, I was gonna call. I just assumed you knew where I'd be."
"Seems you called everyone else to meet you...all except me."
"Steve, you and me are like brothers...we always have been! We read each other's thoughts and know each other's moves. We don't have to call one another."
"Maybe not---unless you didn't want me to show up."
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't know," Steve said with a quiet edge. "Just skip it!"
"Uh, where did you and Noah wind up goin'?"
"Just drivin'. No where in particular."
"But you told Noah at Smiley's that you and him had somethin' special planned."
"Ah, shit, Hal! That was just my way of gettin' Noah away from those two cunts you were tryin' to set him up with."
"Hell, I WANTED him to go. Noah's old enough to get his first piece! Shit! You and me was a lot younger'n him."
"Noah isn't ready. He told me so!"
"He told you...and not me, his brother?"
"Sure, you were makin' such a big fuckin' deal out of it. I didn't want to force him to give up his cherry to the likes of those two whores."
"What did Noah tell you--that is, unless you don't trust me enough to tell me?"
"Hal, Noah ain't like us. Sex is special to Noah. He wants his first time to be with someone he cares about, so that he'll always remember it."
"Steve, pussy is pussy! There's nothin' special about it! Good Lord, I can't think of a girl in this county that one of us hasn't had. Well, maybe I haven't had as many as you, but there are a few like Carolyn that I've had and you haven't!"
"Did Carolyn tell you that I hadn't fucked her?"
"No, and she'd better not tell me that you have!"
"Well, relax your sphincter before you give yourself a hernia. I HAVEN'T fucked her."
"So, where did you and Noah go drivin'? Did you stop and get some beer?"
"I offered, but Noah refused."
Hal was ready to hint at a taboo subject.
"Steve, let me ask you somethin'."
"Shoot!"
"You've seen how much Noah has grown up. You've seen his big muscles and his new good looks."
"I'm not blind, Hal,"
"Well, don't it seem strange that he's not using his stamina to WANT to date a girl?"
"What are you gettin' at, Hal?"
"Shit! It's just all those stories I've heard...about things that happen between boy cadets at military school when a guy's away from home and his family."
"Hey! You accusing your own brother of turning queer?"
"If I hadn't known you all my life and if I didn't know about how much you liked fuckin' every girl in Hawthorne, I'd say you were turnin' queer for my kid brother!"
"Hal, you been smokin' weed or sniffin' white powder?"
"Shit, Steve, it's Sunday morning. You know I don't do drugs before breakfast,"
"Then why are you sayin' all those crazy things?"
"It's just I think Noah's got some kind of crush on you and I'm wonderin' if maybe you don't feel the same way about him?"
"Jesus Christ, Hal!" Steve replied, getting angry. "Do you think that if dick interested me, I wouldn't tried somethin' with you when we first began jerkin' off together. I never touched you, and never wanted to."
"Well, since Noah came home all muscled up, I thought maybe you might've been attracted to him."
"It seems that you're the one who's turned on by Noah's muscles. I could accuse you of wantin' to do somethin' sexual with him."
"You're full of shit! Dick doesn't do a thing for me...especially my own brother's dick. Shit! That's incest!"
"Then why are you insinuating that I have a hankerin' for Noah?"
"I just wondered about what you two was doin' the past two nights, ridin' around to secret places!"
"Hal, the fuckin' Dairy Queen is no secret place, not unless it changed locations in the past twenty-four hours! If I didn't know better, I'd swear you're actin' suspiciously jealous! What the fuck's goin' on in your head?"
"I don't know. I...just...I got a big problem, Steve.
"Since when have your problems not been my problems? So whatever it is, spill it and let's get it out in the open."
"It's just that...Friday night, Carolyn told me she's pregnant!"
"Holy shit! You and I both know how to be careful, so how the fuck did you slip up?"
"I don't know. Maybe one night I was drinkin' too much. Maybe when I went back for seconds, maybe I used the same rubber and some of my spunk oozed out. Maybe I put it on wrong side out and she got a full dose."
"What the fuck are you gonna do? You got the money to get her an abortion?"
"Yeah, I got the money," Hal replied, but his voice became softer and more serious. "It's just that I've been thinkin', and maybe I want this baby."
"Now I'm certain you've flipped out! You want to spend the rest of your life with Carolyn and some snot-nosed brat?"
"Not really, but the snot-nosed brat is my kid...and I want my kid...and if I have to take Carolyn along with the package, well, then..."
"God damn, Hal!"
"I know. It doesn't sound like me talkin', does it?"
"It sure as shit doesn't. What does Carolyn want?"
"That's where the irony lies. I don't think SHE wants ME!"
"What?"
"'s funny as hell. It's okay if we date steady and she lets me fuck her brains out every time I feel like it, but she don't love me enough to raise our kid together."
"WOULD you marry her, Hal?"
"I think so...I don't know. It's just that Hawthorne is so goddamned small and everybody knows everybody else's business, I don't want the people to brand my kid as bein' a bastard."
"Christ! You've been carryin' this load on your shoulders all weekend and you come in here and accuse me of queerin' your brother?"
"I'm sorry, bro. I don't know why I said all them things," Hal said, then suddenly stopped himself with, "Yes, I DO know! It was somethin' that Noah said in his sleep after he came home last night."
"What did he say?"
"Oh, he was mumblin...somethin' about 'hold me, Steve,' and then he said, 'I love you, Steve!"
"You're bullshitting me!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Well, you said he was asleep. Maybe he was havin' a stupid dream and didn't mean what he was saying!"
"What kind of dream would make him say, 'I love you, Steve'? That ain't normal for a kid to say."
"Well, rest your mind. Noah and I did NOT engage ourselves in ANY kind of sexual activity whatsoever! Even if I WAS queer, I sure as hell wouldn't try anything with my best friend's brother. I love you like my own brother too much. We're too close! Hell, I wouldn't do anything to your sister if you had one!"
"I know and I know I'd never fuck around with your sister if you had one."
"Let's get back to the REAL subject...you and Carolyn. What you gonna do? Does she want an abortion?"
"No, she talked like she wanted the kid, too."
"Then you two had better get your shit together and come to some kind of understanding. If you both want the kid and you don't want the kid to be born a bastard, you'd better get together and start deciding something."
"I know."
Just then, Tyler and Randy enter Katie's and came toward the favorite booth.
"Don't say a word to them about Carolyn and me," Hal said in a whisper.
"You know I won't. Just don't go off on a wild tangent and accuse me and Noah of-- well, whatever you were accusing me of."
"God! That's the last thing I'd do...even if was true."
"Mornin', gentlemen," Steve said, greeting Randy and Tyler. "Where's the monk?"
"I think Wade went to church with his mom," Tyler said, "I sometimes wonder how he became one of us?"
"Who else has he got to chum around with?" Steve replied. "Let's face it! None of us has ever said it out loud, but all four of us feel kinda sorry for Wade, and he sorta serves a purpose for us."
"A purpose?" Randy smirked, "What kind of purpose does a momma's boy serve for us?"
"You just said it, Randy," Steve replied. "The fact that he IS a momma's boy, there's lots of things we'd do, if he wasn't around...like getting into trouble...and Wade makes us stop and think before we go too far. Did you ever think about that?"
"No," Randy replied wonderingly.
"Well, THINK about it, asshole!"
Randy and Tyler ignored Steve's last remark and sat down in the booth. "You two ordered breakfast yet?"
"Nope."
"What are you havin'?" Randy asked.
"That's a dumbass question. We order the same thing we've been orderin' every Sunday at Katie's for years!"
"Well, today I might order somethin' different."
"You mean seven biscuits and gravy instead of your usual six?"
The four of them acknowledged the humor and laughed at themselves as Katie strode over, ostensibly to take their order. She didn't bother with a pad or pencil because she'd turned in their usual order as soon as Randy and Tyler came in the door.
After breakfast, Wade still hadn't shown up, and the four musketeers departed, each to his own way...Tyler and Randy to Randy's house to watch Sunday afternoon sports on TV, Hal to go see Carolyn. Steve drove home, thinking about what Hal has said about Noah's declaration in his sleep. Steve DID have feelings for Noah, but there was no one in Hawthorne with whom he could discuss them. The only gay person Steve had ever known was his cousin, Johnny Kane. Johnny had moved to Briarwood and later to Mackintosh, New Hampshire. Johnny used to run a crisis center in Summerville, where he discussed gay matters with kids who were confused about their sexuality. There were several things Steve would like to ask Johnny without incriminating himself. But then, even cousin Johnny knew about Steve's reputation with women and would never believe that Steve was asking about queer things that concerned himself.
Steve went home to an empty house, as his folks were having Sunday dinner with his dad's sister's family. Steve took a chance and dialed New Hampshire long distance to see if Johnny was listed in the Mackintosh phone directory. He was astonished when the operator gave him Johnny's home phone number. He dialed the area code and the first four digits before he hung up the receiver. He had lost his nerve. He took the piece of paper containing Johnny's number, folded it, and put it in his billfold. Maybe he would call Johnny later in the week...AFTER he had seen Noah one more time.
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Dr. Harvey Whitman reread scattered reports and diagnostic results as Ryan peered nervously at him from across the desk. Ryan had secretly visited Harvey a week ago to discuss a small swollen area in Ryan's right armpit. Ryan had decided not to say a word about this to Kyle until he was certain that he had nothing to worry about. Hell, Kyle had beaten HIV with total remission. Why should Ryan concerned with something he had experienced many times, like just before he came down with influenza or a cold? He knew that a swollen lymph gland was just a warning call from nature that there was some kind of infection in his body. How often had he had kernels of this nature on either side of his groin? EVERYBODY got these and with a couple of doses of Keflex or Cipro, they would be gone in a couple of days.
On Ryan's first visit to see the doctor, a couple of weeks earlier, Harvey had had his assistant stick a needle into Ryan's armpit to withdraw a tiny piece of tissue for a biopsy, just to cover all bases of analysis.
"What did you find, Dr. Whitman? There's no way in hell I've got the plague. Kyle has been my only partner for years and we still practice safe sex."
"Oh, no," Harvey replied. "You're free and clear of HIV and AIDS. It's just that I'm afraid we've encountered something a bit different and a bit more serious."
"What do you mean, Doctor?"
"Tell me, Ryan, have you awakened in the past month or so sweating or have you noticed any kind of lower back pain?"
"No, I feel fine."
"No sudden lack of energy or feeling tired and run down?"
"Nothing. Kyle and I still play tennis twice a week with Jay and Troy, plus I swim daily with the kids. Nothing tires me."
"That makes these reports even more unusual." The doctor's forehead creased with concern.
"Doctor, I was given a death announcement years ago by Doctor Ed with my HIV, so anything you say to me won't cause me to go into a stage of uncontrollable alarm and fear."
"This just might."
"Come on, Doc, I'm a big boy. Let's hear it!"
"The biopsy shows that you have advanced lymphoma."
"You mean Hodgkin's Disease?"
"Yes. Stage four."
"My God! It's treatable, isn't it? I mean, it's curable?" Ryan asked, almost in a panic.
"In most cases, it IS treatable, but the damage that HIV did to your immune system makes treatment somewhat problematic. I can't be sure how chemotherapy will affect your advanced condition."
"Are you saying that---it's hopeless?"
"From the miracles I seen here at Cole, I would never say anything is hopeless."
"By the way you're talking about my case, you don't sound very encouraging."
"Ryan, you're almost like a son to me, as are all of Cliff's Briarwood boys. It's painful to tell you the truth, but I love you too much to be dishonest with you."
"What do you recommend?"
"As your doctor, I would recommend you go for the full chemo dose."
"But, if you were speaking to me as your son?"
"Personally, I wouldn't do it, but then, I don't have two small children. If I were in your situation, I'd have to decide the best way to approach the end of your relationship with your lover. Granted, I could take the chemo and prolong my life a few more months, but would it be fair to him or to yourself, to go through the long agonizing treatment? You'll become weaker and more dependent on him. Toward the end, most likely you'll probably be bed-ridden and he will have to feed you, change you, and watch you slowly deteriorate, not to mention you'll lose your hair and become someone he or your children hardly recognized."
"You're saying that that's what Kyle, Danny, and Little Pete will have to endure?"
"I'm afraid so, son."
"What's the alternative, Doctor Whitman?"
"You could manage on pain killers for a while and lead a somewhat normal life."
"How much time are we talking about?"
"With stage four Hodgkin's, I'd say six months to a year."
"Jesus!"
"I'm so sorry, Ryan."
Ryan sat still, letting all of Harvey's words sink in.
"Doctor, Kyle and I were discussing taking the kids on a long trip around the world. Does that idea sound unlikely now?"
"I wouldn't plan a long trip, but a shorter one, say, three or four months might be possible."
"You think I should tell Kyle right away?"
"That's up to you."
"Then YOU won't tell him?"
"I'm bonded by client-patient privilege. Of course your medical records are not privileged to the hospital staff which in essence means your 'Uncle' Roger will know."
"Then, DON'T tell anyone. PLEASE!"
"If that's your wish.
"It is."
"Then what we've talked about today stays with us."
"Thanks, Doctor."
Ryan stood bravely to exit Harvey's office, but Ryan's burden was more than he could bear. He suddenly wished Cliff was here, OR Roger. Ryan needed someone to embrace him. He needed a shoulder to cry on...someone's besides Kyle's!
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The Alamo lived up to all of Mike's expectation. He had read about the Mexican-American war in books at school and had watched the John Wayne version of "The Alamo", as well as the Fess Parker/Disney version. Mike couldn't believe that he stood at the very spots where Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie fought for their lives. Tom was not at all surprised by the amount of souvenirs that Mike bought: a coonskin hat, even a musket replica...to find a special place near the cacti. Only God knows what Mike would purchase at the Grand Canyon. Tom didn't even want to imagine!
Their next stop which both Tom and Mike were dreading was Fort Stockton, at the Malone residence. They had to find a reason to meet Reverend Malone without revealing Lee's whereabouts and the condition they had left Lee in. The terms HIV and AIDS would be banished from their vocabulary once they reached the Fort Stockton city limits and would remain so until they exited. They also both knew from Lee's conversation with them that the subject of homosexuality was taboo. Neither of them was the stereotypical gay that Bill Malone was familiar with, so they decided to put on a "he-man" facade until they could assess the situation at Lee's house.
Tom had a bit of a problem maneuvering a huge RV in and out of some of the Fort Stockton streets. The streets were wide enough; it was going around corners in some neighborhoods that created the driving dilemma, until they finally found the Malone residence.
Once they had parked in front of the house, Jake came running out to see the massive vehicle, the like of which he had only seen in pictures or in commercials on TV at one of his friend's houses. To Jake, the Winnebago looked like an elephant in a circus parade. He ran toward the door as Tom opened it.
"WOW!" Jake exclaimed. "Excuse me, mister, but I never---can I have a look inside?"
"Sure," Tom replied.
"Welcome aboard, matey!" Mike chimed in, with his best pirate's voice.
Jake came inside the RV and the walk to the back end made it seem as if it was a block long. He couldn't believe all the modern appliances and convenience stocked in the craft, including a 54" flat-panel, wall plasma television.
"This is only a couple of inches thick!" Jake said. "Where do they put the tubes?"
"The what?" Mike asked.
"The TUBES! You know, the insides of the TV. Where are they?"
"I don't know," Mike said, "you'll have to ask my...my fraternity brother, Tom." Mike turned to Tom. "Tom, tell Jake where the tubes of the TV are hidden!"
Tom laughed, as Jake gave Mike a surprised look. "You called me 'Jake'! How do you know my name?"
'Damn! First mistake!', Mike thought. What could he say, 'You look like a Jake'? 'I read it on your shirt'? Mike was stumped for a reply. It was Jake who saved him in the awkward situation.
"You've seen Lee, haven't you?", he asked hopefully, his voice raising in excitement.
"Yes, Jake, we have," Tom replied.
"How is he? WHERE is he?"
"He's fine, Jake. He's in Dallas. We saw him there and he wanted us to stop by and see you. He's very concerned about you and your dad. Where is your dad, anyway?"
Jake dropped his head to answer, "He's in the hospital, only he doesn't know it."
"What do you mean, Jake?" Tom asked.
"He...he...starved himself, or as he put it, fasted every day after Lee left. He ate no food, drank no water, refused to go to bed to sleep. He just sat there in his chair looking out the window, waiting for God to send Lee home. Eight days and nights passed and I went in to check on him before I went to school and I found him unconscious on the floor. He was totally dehydrated was what the emergency medical guy told me before they took him to the hospital. I told him not to take Dad to the hospital because he didn't believe in them OR doctors. But the guy told me, by law he had to take Dad there."
"Has he regained consciousness, Jake?"
"Not yet. The nurse at the hospital told me he was in some kind of a coma...not a coma, exactly, but in some kind of deep trance where he didn't want to wake up and face reality."
"Jesus!" Mike uttered. "How long has he been in the hospital?"
"Over a week."
"And you've been staying here by yourself?"
"Uh huh. I kept thinking Lee would call," Jake said. "Then I began to hope Lee WOULDN'T call. I didn't want him to come running back here to see about Dad when I knew that Lee, himself, was sick."
"Have you been going to school on your own, every day?" Tom asked.
"Sure, I don't want to miss football practice in the afternoon. If you cut classes, Coach won't let you practice."
"What about food and groceries? Have you been eating properly?"
"I fix myself a can of special chili every night. I have my own recipe."
"You've eaten a can of chili every night for over two weeks?"
"Yep."
"Good Lord!" Tom exclaimed. "How would you like me to fix you a real meal?"
"I...I don't even know your names. You know mine and I heard him call you, 'Tom'."
"I'm Mike, Jake."
"How did you meet Lee?"
"That's a long story that we can tell you about over supper," Tom said. "Now, what's your favorite food besides chili?"
Jake didn't take but a second to blurt out, "Fried chicken. Is that TOO hard to cook?"
"I think we have a chicken or two in the freezer we can thaw in the microwave. Potatoes? Green peas? Broccoli?"
"No broccoli, please!"
"Why don't I start cooking while you take Mike and show him around your house?"
"Hey, do you have any cacti growing in your back yard?"
"Cacti?"
"You know...a cactus...and some more."
Tom laughed out loud.
"Sure, we got a bunch of cactuses growing wild all over the place." Jake replied.
"Cactuses? Is that what a true Texan calls them? Not cacti?"
"I never heard 'cacti' until you just said it!"
Mike looked at Tom and sneered, "See there, Mr. F. Scott Fitzscatterbrain? 'Cactuses'... from a REAL Texan."
"Get out of here before I take a frying pan to your backside," Tom joked.
Mike followed Jake out of the RV and around to the back of the Malone residence, which overlooked a vast desert with tall cacti and tumbleweeds. Mike was elated and began singing, "Home on the Range" at the top of his voice.
Tom could hear the song all the way inside the closed RV and smiled.
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The Cole Institute housed a huge indoor amphitheatre facilitating special areas equipped for wheelchairs and stretchers so that its patients could see the latest movies and be entertained, albeit secretly, by the likes of Hollywood and Broadway stars who donated their time and talents for AIDS and HIV victims. Since the stars wanted their visits to remain secret, no one ever knew who was going to be featured next. Unbeknownst to tabloids, the Cole Theatre had been entertained by the original singers of such songs as "People", "New York, New York", "I Left My Heart In San Francisco", to mention but a few.
Tonight's showcase featured one of their own and the whole hospital, including the staff, was buzzing with delight. Ian Sumner was giving a solo performance for Cole, thanking them for his cure of Hep C, and also polishing up his talent before returning to his role in "Brigadoon" next week.
The auditorium was packed. Cliff, Roger, Jay, and Troy were seated in the sixth row as the lights dimmed and a single spotlight picked up Ian at center stage. The intro started and Ian began, "Well, you see, I'll pretend I'm at home getting ready for a date. I take a comb, comb my hair, take a flower, smell it, put it in my lapel And then I spot the audience!"
Next he sang, "Once my clothes WERE shabby
Tailors CALLED me, "Cabbie"
So I took a vow--
Said this bum'll
Be Beau Brummel
Now I'm smooth and SNAPPY
Now my tailor's happy
I'm the cats meow!
My wardrobe is a wow! Paris silk! HARRIS tweed!
There's only one thing I need... Got my tweed pressed
Got my best vest
All I need now is the girl..."
They were lyrics Stephen Sondheim had written for the Broadway show, "Gypsy". Ian had played the role of Tulsa in the last revival in New York. The tempo changed and Ian tapped his way all over the stage. The applause was thunderous and maintained that decibel level after every number for the entire two-hour show.
Ian wowed the crowd with dance numbers from "A Chorus Line", "42nd Street", "Cabaret", "Chicago", "Carousel", "Oklahoma", even an impromptu solo he adlibbed, using the music of "West Side Story". He concluded his show with the sword dance from "Brigadoon" and those that could stand rose to their feet with shouts, clapping, and all the other noisy accolades that were possible.
When the last patient had been returned to his room or ward, Cliff and Roger met Ian in his dressing room. Ian used a glob of Albolene to remove his makeup. He was facing the mirror when his new "mentors" entered.
"That was amazing, Ian," Roger said.
Ian peered through one eye and said, "Didja really like it?"
"You're the biggest talent on Broadway!" Cliff added.
"...And now, I'm going back, thanks to you," Ian said, his eyes filling.
"You're too young and have too much to give to the world to let a disease hinder you from sharing your talent," Cliff told him.
"And I have a clean bill of health?" Ian asked Roger.
"According to the chart I saw, it`s spotless," Roger replied.
"Rob and Timmy will be meeting you at the airport when you arrive in New York," Cliff said.
"My God! When I think if they hadn't found me! When I think of what might've happened if they hadn't known you or about Cole..."
"That's all in the past, son," Roger said. "It's footlights and spotlights from now on."
"I feel so goddamned great!"
"You look it!"
"Now, I'm just missing one thing in my life."
"What's that, son?"
"I sang, 'all I need is the girl'. All I need is the guy. I've seen you two and how happy you are...and well, Rob and Tim, theirs was a marriage made in heaven. I want to find MY guy, fall in love, and share a life the way you guys do."
"You're going to find him, Ian, I can promise you," Cliff said.
"Well, if Father Cliff says it...it's gonna happen! Rob and Tim sing your praise day and night. Now I can sing along with the two of them. Of course, I'll have to sing about Roger, as well."
"Do it on stage, Ian, where your talents belong," Roger said, "Now, finish dressing and come out and meet your public."
"The guys were great, weren't they? What an audience they are!"
"You gave them another ray of hope and they were just showing their appreciation."
"Was that it?"
"You better believe it!"
"Troy and Jay are going to drive you from the hospital to the airport tomorrow and please!...no matter how many he asks for, only give Jay ONE autograph!"
All three laughed as Cliff and Roger turned to exit the dressing room.
"Thanks, 'Uncle' Roger. Thanks, Father," Ian said.
Roger looked at Cliff and said, "Do you think we should tell him now?"
"Go ahead," Cliff replied.
"Ian, if you ever had a doubt...you ARE a Briarwood boy."
Ian smiled warmly, as Cliff and Roger left.
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Tuesday night, the phone rang at Steve Jarvis' house.
"Hello?" Steve answered.
"Steve?"
"Noah?"
"Yes."
"How're ya doin', buddy?"
"Fine. What are you doing?"
"Nothin' much."
"I was wondering if we could meet and talk?"
"Sure! Where are you?"
"The Motel 7 in Greenport?"
"What the hell are you doing there?"
"I'm in room 218, if you can drive over here."
"Well, sure, but what's this all about?"
"I'll tell you when you get here."
"All right, but it'll be nearly an hour before I get there."
"That's okay. Take your time."
"You're ALL RIGHT, aren't you?"
"Yes, but I'll be better once you get here."
Steve hung up the phone. His parents had gone to play cards at the Powell house and he was all alone. The day before, he had tried calling his cousin Johnny in Mackintosh, New Hampshire, but had only spoken briefly to some guy who had told him that he was the father of Johnny's children. This comment had confused and startled Steve so he slammed the receiver down without getting the chance to talk with Johnny. Steve decided to take a chance and dial the number once more and hopefully, Johnny would answer this time.
"Hello?"
"Johnny?"
"Yes?"
"This is Steve."
"Pardon, Steve who?"
"Steve Jarvis, your cousin in Hawthorne."
"Good heavens. This is a bit of a surprise. Is everything all right with your mom and dad?"
"They're both fine."
"That's good to hear. My...uh...other half said that you had called earlier and you were the only Steve Jarvis that I know. I really couldn't understand your calling me unless there was a death in the family or something."
"No, no deaths."
"Well, what can I do for you, Steve?"
"I need to talk to someone about a problem and I knew that you used to run the crisis center in Summerville and I thought you'd be the person I'd best talk to."
"Steve, you're not suicidal, are you?"
"ME! Fuck, no!...At least not yet!"
"So what is this big problem that only I can talk to you about?"
"I don't know where to begin," Steve said. "I guess I should start by offering you an apology."
"For what?"
"Oh, the way I've always kept a distance from you. You never kept it a secret that you were quee...that you were gay."
"No, I didn't."
"I, just like the rest of the family, never wanted to have anything to do with you after we all found out...and then, when your mother died and we had to meet face-to-face...well, I didn't have much to say to you, even then."
"That's all right, Steve. That's blood under the bridge."
"Maybe...but now I want to tell you that I'm sorry."
"Your apology is accepted, Steve. Now, what's your problem?"
"I have a problem that only you can understand."
"Well, if you suddenly tell me that you're gay now, I'll find that difficult to believe."
"It WOULD be difficult to believe at that, wouldn't it?" Steve said, after a pause.
"Is THAT what you're trying to tell me?"
"Oh, no! I haven't changed my ways. I still fuck every girl who'll spread her legs."
"Then, what is it?"
"I...I...Well, there's this kid...a boy, he's seventeen or eighteen years old and, well, his brother's my best friend."
"And?"
"Well, this kid...this boy seems to think he has a crush on me."
"He's gay?"
"He thinks he is, although he swears he's never had sex with anyone."
"And he wants you to be his first?"
"Something like that."
"Oh, boy," Johnny sighed.
"I know."
"You're not going to do it, are you?"
"I have no intention of doing it."
"That's a relief. Sex, the first time, with anybody can be very traumatic or very enjoyable. It should be special for him. Knowing you and your reputation, Steve, he'd just be another notch in your belt when you got through."
"Johnny, I don't feel that way about him."
"What do you mean?"
"I...I have special feelings for him. I...I care about him."
"That's still treading on dangerous ground, Steve. Do you want to break the kid's heart just to add him to your list of conquests?"
"No. I know how you feel about me and everything you say is or could be true. It's just that..."
"What?"
"Could a guy like me ever love another guy? Can a person change that way?"
"It depends on the individual, but you've never shown me anything to indicate you could feel that way about someone who's the same sex as you."
"Do you see now why I called you?"
"I'm beginning to."
"I really DO care about him. I care about him so much, it's bothering me. I think about him when I go to bed at night."
"And you're sure this is just not some way of getting his cherry and dropping him?"
"Hell, no! I could've had sex with him several times. But something kept stopping me. I wanted him...but I didn't want him."
"In other words, you LIKED being his friend so long as it didn't resort to something physical? Is that it?"
"Not really! Ah, shit, Johnny! When I jerk off at night, he's all I think about and it's scaring the hell out of me. And besides, you know goddamned well how the people in Hawthorne know everything that happens to everybody. You know how the whole town feels about quee...gay people!"
"Only too well, Steve."
"Yes, and I'm one of them...I've always been just like them."
"And now?"
"I don't feel that way any more...at least not since I've been around Noah."
"That's his name? Noah?"
"Noah Carson. His brother Hal has been my best friend all my life."
"Have you talked with Hal about this?"
"Fuck NO! He'd probably get a gun and shoot me and Noah, both."
"Then Hal has no idea of how his brother feels about you?"
"Maybe."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, Noah, he talked about me in his sleep, about wanting me to hold him, and he said he loved me, and Hal heard him."
"Wow! And now your predicament is coming to a head?"
"Johnny? Could you just forget for a moment that I'm your cousin; try to think that I'm just a stranger who called you in the night, like those that you used to talk with at the crisis center?"
"I'll try."
"Then, as a stranger, would you tell me to take Noah to bed or not?"
"To what end, Steve? For what purpose?"
"Aw shit! Do I have to spell it out for you? I need to know if I'm gay or not!"
"And if you're NOT, and you get angry with Noah...or disgusted, and leave him in a lurch? What would that do to Noah?"
"Like you said--break his heart, I suppose."
"Then why do it?"
"Because...because...GODDAMMIT! I think I'm in love with him! THERE! I said it!"
"Steve, I SHOULD be bitter by the way you've shunned me and avoided me all our lives. I should be angry for the names you called me and for all the jokes I've been the butt of, but I won't. Although I'm sure neither you, nor the rest of your family, would ever approve, I have a lifetime companion. We had twin sons. My partner is a priest, a man of God, and we love each other as much as any heterosexual couple ever could. Yes, I know how it feels to love another man. I've never felt the insides of a woman's vagina. I've never felt a woman's breast or her compassionate kiss...but I have known Jeff's. Sex is not like a disease like alcohol or drug addiction, although sex can be addictive. With sex, you can't just 'get the cure' and change your habit, like going from Jack Daniel's to straight Coca-Cola. What makes it even worse is that there's another person's feelings involved. He or she is not like an old empty whiskey bottle that you throw away when all good times are gone."
"You're tellin' me NOT to do it?"
"Truthfully? No!"
"Then what should I do?"
"Talk with him. Get to know him. Find out why he feels the way he does about you. Find out if you could love him if NO sex was ever going to happen between the two of you. If he wants you to love him, then LOVE him, but don't fuck him and both of you regret it later. I talked to too many kids who lost their virginity to some sex bounty hunter, just before they cut their wrists, took an overdose of pills, or blew their brains out with a pistol. Is that the kind of memory you want to garner for the rest of your life?"
"No."
"Then think about it, Steve! For the first time in your life, think of somebody's feelings above your own."
"You don't think it possible that I could turn gay?"
"Not really."
"But what if I DID?"
"I'd still want you to talk with him and get to know all about him first. Let me ask--have you kissed him?"
"Good God, no!"
"Does kissing a man seem so repulsive to you?"
"Sorta..."
"But fucking his ass, doesn't?"
"I haven't fucked his ass."
"Maybe not, but you're sure as hell thinking about it, aren't you?"
"I don't know, Johnny. You see, just before I called you, Noah called me and asked me to meet him at a motel."
"Are you going?"
"Should I?"
"To talk with him, yes...to jump his bones, no! Steve, how many times have you been in love?"
"None, really."
"You've never said, 'I love you', to any girl?"
"No, I haven't."
"And how many girls have you screwed?"
"Hell, I don't know! Hundreds! More than my friend, Hal."
"And of all the girls you screwed, how many of them did you go steady with? How many of them got a second date with you?"
"None of 'em, unless I was horny."
"Jesus Christ, Steve! Listen to your own confession! Not one girl has ever meant enough to you to tell her that you loved her?"
"I guess not."
"Then why ruin this kid's first chance at happiness? Why screw him and let him slice his throat with a butcher knife when he finds out you won't be calling him or needing him again?"
"You think that's what he might do?"
"That's what thousands of kids do every night...boys and girls."
"All right, I'll go meet him and talk with him...NOTHING MORE... just TALK with him."
"That's a good beginning."
"Thanks, Johnny, for telling me like it is."
"You called, you asked, and I answered. I probably didn't say what you wanted to hear, but I had to be honest with you."
"I appreciate that, Johnny."
"That's okay."
"Can I call you again?"
"Sure, Steve, anytime. I know our family relationship has been somewhat strained over the years, but we are kin and I'll be glad to talk with you whenever you call."
"Thanks. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Steve."
Steve sat silently in his chair for a long time before he placed the receiver back in its cradle. He was glad he had talked with Johnny, but he found himself more intimidated by the thought of facing Noah in a motel room. He raised his arm to get a whiff of his pit and decided he would prolong his meeting with Noah by showering and changing his clothes.
He went into the bathroom to turn the hot water of the shower full force before he stripped to bathe. He stood in the shower with his back to the nozzle and let the water pulsate on the taut muscles in the back of his neck. He washed his entire body with shampoo while a large amount of suds accumulated in his groin area. He lowered his right hand, but was not surprised to learn that he had a larger than life erection bulging in his fist. He thought if he could masturbate two or three times in a row, then all sexual tension would be dissolved once he encountered Noah. Slowly, he began to move his foreskin up and down to hurry his first ejaculation. He almost began to cry when he discovered that all his sexual fantasies involved Noah's firm muscular body. He wanted Noah. He had to have him...Johnny be damned!
Steve didn't reach an orgasm at all. He was too upset. He kept asking himself why Noah had rented a motel room. He knew damned well, but he didn't want to admit it. How could he betray his own masculinity and his vast affinity for a woman's vagina for another guy's--a kid's at that--penis? He knew that the first time he touched Noah or Noah touched him, every bad thing he'd ever said about queers would be thrown back in his own face!
He dressed, clumsily, nervously trying to button a new shirt. His hands were shaking. He didn't HAVE to go meet Noah, he told himself. There were thousands of excuses he could use, as he'd so often excused himself from asking a girl out on a second date. But Noah was sitting alone in another small town near Hawthorne, waiting eagerly for his arrival. It took him almost two hours to arrive at Motel 7, after his talk with Johnny, his shower, and driving slowly, his heart pounding.
Nearly all the parking spaces at the motel were full, as this was a favorite 'fuck' motel for anyone who had no other place to go with his girlfriend. He parked, cut off his lights, and crept out of the car, looking around carefully to make sure no one noticed him or his car. He went up the metal staircase to the second landing and tapped lightly on the fire red door of room #218.
"Steve?" Noah whispered through the door as he opened it as far as the chain latch would permit.
"Yeah."
Noah opened the door and Steve entered.
"I was so worried. You said you'd be here in an hour and I was worried that you'd wrecked your car or something."
"No, I had a few chores to do before I could drive over here to Greenport."
"I'm glad that you came," Noah said.
"So, what's up? Why the mystery? What are you doing in a motel room in Greenport, for God's sake?"
"So that I could do this!" Noah said as he sprung toward Steve, putting his arms around Steve's neck, and quickly pressing his lips onto Steve's.
At first, Steve's manly instincts countered his feelings and he reached for Noah's hands to remove them from his neck and pry himself away from the kiss.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Steve said, "Not so fast. I don't know if I'm ready for all this."
"Steve, I love you," Noah blurted out, waiting to hear Steve's reply.
"Noah, PLEASE! STOP IT! You don't know what you're sayin' and I'm not sure if I wanna hear it!"
"Steve, I KNOW you feel something for me! Why else would you have invited me out two nights in a row...without HAL?"
"I don't know, Noah. I've asked myself that a dozen times since Saturday."
"Steve, I want you to hold me. I want you to make love to me."
"Now wait, Noah, I can't do that. I'm straight and you damned well know it!"
"We can turn the lights out and you can pretend I'm a girl."
"That might be all right for a few seconds until I felt a big cock poking me in front. That'd be the end of my pretending."
"Not for me."
"How did you get down here and what made you rent a motel room? Did you have a fight with your folks or somethin'?"
"I borrowed Mom's car and told them I was going to Eddie George's to spend the night."
"Who's Eddie George?"
"No one. I made him up. I told Mom that Eddie was a classmate from Baylor and his folks were driving to Florida and they were holding up in Greenport for the night."
"And she believed you? She let you come spend the night with Eddie George?"
"Hook, line, and sinker!"
"Well, how'd you know that you would reach me and I would come down to join you?"
"I hoped you had the same feelings for me that I have for you."
"AND that I couldn't resist you? Is that it?"
"Yes."
"Noah, we need to talk."
"Okay, but could we talk lying down?"
"No."
"Please."
"All right, but no hanky-panky."
Steve hadn't noticed that Noah was only wearing a robe when he opened the door. Noah walked over to the bed and threw back the bedspread and top sheet. Next, he removed his robe to reveal he was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts. Noah turned off the bed lamp and lay down on the far side of the bed and extended his left arm and hand for Steve to join him.
"Don't you wanna take off your clothes?" Noah asked.
"NO!"
"At least take off your pretty new shirt so that it won't get wrinkled. It IS new, isn't it?"
Steve was almost embarrassed by letting Noah know that he had worn his new duds especially for him.
"All right, my shirt, but I'm leavin' my pants on!"
Steve removed his shoes, socks, and shirt and placed it on the big brown Naugahyde chair next to the window. His chest was smooth. He didn't shave it, just no hair grew there. He did his best to flex his pectorals, knowing how solidly virile Noah's chest muscles were. Noah rolled over on his left side as if he wanted Steve to spoon him. Steve complied by assuming the position but made certain that his crotch did not touch Noah's buttocks. He tried to leave three or four inches of space between their lower bodies. Noah reached for Steve's arm and placed it across his own arm and chest.
"Now, let's talk," Noah whispered.
"Noah, we shouldn't be doin' this," Steve began.
"But who's gonna know?"
"You and me. That's who."
"Tell me the truth, don't you like lying here like this, holding me?"
"No, I don't. I can't relax."
"Why?"
"Dozens of reasons. We're both guys. You're younger than me. Your brother is my best friend. How's that for starters?"
"But doesn't it mean anything to you when you know how much I want to be near you?"
"Noah, no doubt when you go back to military school in the fall, you'll find some nice guy your own age, and you'll hit it off and the both of you will be real happy."
"But I don't want another guy. I want you."
"I really think I should get up and go home, just as you should."
"If I said 'yes', would you do me a favor?" Noah asked.
"That depends."
"It's nothing much."
"All right, what is it?"
"Would you let me put my hand down your pants and let me feel it?"
Steve knew that the request could never be granted because his lying next to Noah had made his cock hard as a lump of coal.
"Of course not!"
"All right, will you just let me see it?"
"Noah, this is embarrassing and our situation is getting out of hand."
"I wonder what Hal would say if he knew you'd met me in a motel?"
"Oh, you're gonna resort to blackmail now, are you?"
"If I have to."
"All right, what will it take to please you, so that I can go home?"
"One look."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"Okay, but I don't want you getting no crazy ideas. You see, lying here like this, holding you in the dark made me kinda feel like I was with a woman. So I'm afraid I have a hard on...but YOU didn't give it to me. Got that?"
"Sure, let me turn on the bedlamp and take a look at it."
"ONE LOOK! REMEMBER?"
"I promise."
Noah reached over Steve's body and flipped the light switch on the lamp, then returned to his side of the bed for Steve's "unveiling". Because of his erection, Steve was having one hell of a time lowering his trousers below "dick level". His zipper wasn't completely unzipped which added to his difficulty. Noah reached for the zipper tab and completed the job. With a huge push, Steve lowered both his pants and shorts at the same time to mid-thigh. Noah observed the motion like a child watching a gold fish in a bowl for the first time. Steve's penis made a slapping sound as it flopped against his lower abdomen. Never had Noah seen a more beautiful specimen of manhood in his life, as Steve's cock was a sight of perfection. His testicles so round and full. Soft, dark brown hair enveloped Steve's entire crotch area. It took every ounce of Noah's strength to keep from grabbing his phallic idol and worshipping it with his hands and mouth.
Steve sensed what Noah was thinking and feeling and, for a split second, he almost said, 'If you want it, take it." but decided against it because who knew where THAT would lead?
"Seen enough?" Steve finally asked.
"For now."
"Good! Can I put my clothes on and leave now?"
"Yes."
Steve pulled up his trousers and refastened them. Then he put on his socks, shoes, and shirt. He went into the tiny bathroom to look into the mirror and comb his hair. Noah hadn't moved. He was still in bed.
"You gonna go home now, too?" Steve asked him.
"No, I gotta stay here the rest of the night with Eddie George so Mom won't get suspicious."
"Are you gonna be able to go to sleep?"
"Maybe after I jerk off a time or two, thinking about you."
"Noah, please! You're creating a block in our friendship. I can't let anything happen between us."
"Steve, you said you were being honest with me."
"Yes."
"Then tell me one more thing and answer honestly."
"What is it?"
"When you jerked off the past night or two, have I been in your fantasies?"
"Damn! You won't give up, will you?"
"Well, have I been in your fantasies or not?"
"What if I said, 'yes'?"
"Then I'd say I have a chance to have you."
"And if I said, 'no'?"
"I'd keep trying."
Frustrated as he was, it took every emotional fiber in Steve to keep from going over to Noah, kissing him, ripping off his clothes, and making love to him all night. Steve finally said goodnight and closed the door behind him where he rested his aching head for a few moments to gather his thoughts--and gain some control over his manhood. God, how he loved that kid! But for the first time in his life, Steve had listened and taken heed from his cousin Johnny, who had told him to wait and see...and that's just what Steve planned to do...wait and see.
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(To be continued "Briarwood"---BOOK SEVEN--chapter-seventy-five.)